This fills the text of the prompt, but not the title.
Some nights, when he's between targets, waiting for supplies, and exercising any more would be counterproductive, Frank has time to think. That's always the worst. But the worst thoughts of all revolve around Matthew Michael Murdock.
What would it be like, Frank wonders, if Maria had just told him the whole truth from the start? How would he have handled it? His life had already been so full; would he have ditched her as too complicated? On the other hand, he had grown to love Lisa so quickly; he couldn't imagine being content with knowing about little Matthew and Maria's abandonment of him, and the arguments and cold war that characterized their last few months of married life may have come at the beginning of it, instead. Without the strong foundation they had built together, would they ever have lasted, or would she have abandoned him without ever looking back, like she had Jack and Matthew Murdock?
Frank remembered when he had thought that Jack Murdock might be a threat. Lisa had told him about her first marriage while they worked out the details for her second, and he had been concerned about the tears in her eyes and the catches in her voice when she had talked about her former husband's temper, had explained how it had become too much and she had realized she had to walk away. He had looked into it, but not too far; he had learned that Jack Murdock had not contested the divorce, that he didn't seem to have the resources or the personality for vendetta, and let it go, content that Maria was free and clear and, most importantly, all his.
At the time, he had hated the thought that Maria clearly had a type: Catholic and dangerous. He had consoled himself with the thought that he didn't have the flash-fire temper that "Battling Jack Murdock" was known for, that Maria would never have a reason to leave him. When the existence of Matthew Michael Murdock had burst upon his awareness, he had finally done his due diligence, and found the information he should have known much earlier about Maria's first marriage. All of it pointed to another similarity with himself that Frank found more endearing with the passage of time (and, not incidentally, Jack Murdock himself): they both apparently loved their children fiercely. Everybody agreed that Jack was utterly devoted to his son.
So maybe Frank wouldn't have made any demands that Maria would have found too crazy for the beginning of their married life, since little Matthew Michael Murdock seemed happy and safe enough with his dad. But that would have changed, Frank thought, with that father's death; Frank would have insisted they get him, not leave him to be raised by a bunch of nuns. Not that he had anything against the sisters; but they weren't family.
Oh, he had been so angry with Maria, when he discovered what she had hidden from him. Unlike Jack Murdock, his temper, once roused, was slow-burning but implacable, and it had never been roused against Maria before. Maria had finally succumbed to his demand, attending Matthew's college graduation with him, the two of them cheering loudly as he crossed the stage despite the fact that they were supposed to hold it until the end. Even so, it was a full three months from the time he discovered the printout Maria had left in the printer tray listing "Matthew M. Murdock, summa cum laude" among the upcoming graduates to the picnic which was his signal that he was finally ready to reconcile, to end the silences that had sprung up between them after the children went to bed. He bitterly regretted, now, that he had ever shut out his wife like that at all, and particularly for what turned out to be the last few months of her life.
So, yes, sometimes Frank wondered what it would be like to have raised little Matthew. Mostly, though, he was grateful that the young man had been spared his mother's and half-siblings' murders. He realized, watching what would have been his stepson if other choices had been made cross the stage to receive his J.D., that he wouldn't wish his anger and fierce desire for justice that outstripped what the law could supply on anyone so young, let alone one so unequipped for his life as the handicapped, idealistic, intellectual young man being enthusiastically cheered by the next graduate in line. He was grateful that this last little piece of Maria walking around in the world was safe, both from his crusade and from his enemies. Frank promised himself to stay far away from Matthew Michael Murdock, so that he would never be caught in the crossfire or in his crosshairs. Maria had been right, after all: Matthew was better off as he was.
[Minifill, sort of] Maria Castle was Mrs. Murdock
Some nights, when he's between targets, waiting for supplies, and exercising any more would be counterproductive, Frank has time to think. That's always the worst. But the worst thoughts of all revolve around Matthew Michael Murdock.
What would it be like, Frank wonders, if Maria had just told him the whole truth from the start? How would he have handled it? His life had already been so full; would he have ditched her as too complicated? On the other hand, he had grown to love Lisa so quickly; he couldn't imagine being content with knowing about little Matthew and Maria's abandonment of him, and the arguments and cold war that characterized their last few months of married life may have come at the beginning of it, instead. Without the strong foundation they had built together, would they ever have lasted, or would she have abandoned him without ever looking back, like she had Jack and Matthew Murdock?
Frank remembered when he had thought that Jack Murdock might be a threat. Lisa had told him about her first marriage while they worked out the details for her second, and he had been concerned about the tears in her eyes and the catches in her voice when she had talked about her former husband's temper, had explained how it had become too much and she had realized she had to walk away. He had looked into it, but not too far; he had learned that Jack Murdock had not contested the divorce, that he didn't seem to have the resources or the personality for vendetta, and let it go, content that Maria was free and clear and, most importantly, all his.
At the time, he had hated the thought that Maria clearly had a type: Catholic and dangerous. He had consoled himself with the thought that he didn't have the flash-fire temper that "Battling Jack Murdock" was known for, that Maria would never have a reason to leave him. When the existence of Matthew Michael Murdock had burst upon his awareness, he had finally done his due diligence, and found the information he should have known much earlier about Maria's first marriage. All of it pointed to another similarity with himself that Frank found more endearing with the passage of time (and, not incidentally, Jack Murdock himself): they both apparently loved their children fiercely. Everybody agreed that Jack was utterly devoted to his son.
So maybe Frank wouldn't have made any demands that Maria would have found too crazy for the beginning of their married life, since little Matthew Michael Murdock seemed happy and safe enough with his dad. But that would have changed, Frank thought, with that father's death; Frank would have insisted they get him, not leave him to be raised by a bunch of nuns. Not that he had anything against the sisters; but they weren't family.
Oh, he had been so angry with Maria, when he discovered what she had hidden from him. Unlike Jack Murdock, his temper, once roused, was slow-burning but implacable, and it had never been roused against Maria before. Maria had finally succumbed to his demand, attending Matthew's college graduation with him, the two of them cheering loudly as he crossed the stage despite the fact that they were supposed to hold it until the end. Even so, it was a full three months from the time he discovered the printout Maria had left in the printer tray listing "Matthew M. Murdock, summa cum laude" among the upcoming graduates to the picnic which was his signal that he was finally ready to reconcile, to end the silences that had sprung up between them after the children went to bed. He bitterly regretted, now, that he had ever shut out his wife like that at all, and particularly for what turned out to be the last few months of her life.
So, yes, sometimes Frank wondered what it would be like to have raised little Matthew. Mostly, though, he was grateful that the young man had been spared his mother's and half-siblings' murders. He realized, watching what would have been his stepson if other choices had been made cross the stage to receive his J.D., that he wouldn't wish his anger and fierce desire for justice that outstripped what the law could supply on anyone so young, let alone one so unequipped for his life as the handicapped, idealistic, intellectual young man being enthusiastically cheered by the next graduate in line. He was grateful that this last little piece of Maria walking around in the world was safe, both from his crusade and from his enemies. Frank promised himself to stay far away from Matthew Michael Murdock, so that he would never be caught in the crossfire or in his crosshairs. Maria had been right, after all: Matthew was better off as he was.