daredevilkink | Daredevil Prompt Post #11

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Daredevil Prompt Post #11

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Devil’s Night – One Year Later

The pale moon is high and full in the sky, swallowed whole by the storm-dark clouds. Shepherded by their anxious parents, the last little trick-or-treater scurried home hours ago, the last straggling drunk college students in their skimpy costumes are staggering back to their halls, and now more malicious souls creep through the night playing their dark games.

Brett Mahoney should be on patrol. They know separate three gangs are taking advantage of the confusion to bring in large shipments of drugs and there’s already been five robberies. But instead Brett’s tucked away at the back of the bullpen staring down at the silver flask in the bottom drawer of his desk. He did go out but the gaudy costumes, ghoulish decorations and rowdy high spirits had driven him back into the sanctuary of his shadowed station.

It’s all too similar to last year. It could be last year, when he took a call because he knew the address and drove over to find his childhood friend sprawled out in the street broken and dying. Foggy had barely been conscious, he’d blinked a couple of times at Brett and let out a soft sigh of a word that Brett only recognized because he knew Foggy was begging for his husband. Then Foggy died there in the street, Murdock’s name his last breath, and all Brett could do for him was reach out with a shaky hand and close Foggy’s eyes for the final time.

Gun tight in in his fist, Brett run up four flights of stairs, heart pounding loud in his ears – and was too late again. Murdock was splayed out on the coffee table like an obscene center-piece, ink-dark blood dripped over ash-white skin.

Brett pressed two fingers to his bruised throat and found a faint thready fading pulse. He grabbed the blanket from over the back of couch, the normality of the soft fuzzy cream wool under his hands steadying him until he looked back at Murdock and froze. Absurdly the thought twisted through his mind that he couldn’t touch Murdock because he’d get the blanket dirty. The more relevant objection that he didn’t know how to touch Murdock without hurting him held him in place. There was so much blood he couldn’t work out where he could apply pressure to staunch it, or even if he could.

It seemed he stood there for hours watching Murdock bleed out but it could only have been moments before the sharp wail of the ambulance shocked him into motion. He draped the blanket over Murdock in a pathetic attempt to ward off the patiently waiting death, spun on his heel, and hurried away to fetch the ambulance crew.

He risked one backward glance – the blanket was already stained rusty with Murdock’s blood.

Brett shakes himself violently, emerging from his memories with a frantic gasp for air, heart stuttering his chest. He decides screw it, he’s been sober five months, he can risk a drink. Sliding onto his knees, he snatches up his silver flask, spins the top with practiced fingers and takes a gulp, raw whiskey making his throat burn and his eyes sting.

Murdock, stubborn little shit that he was, managed to live another thirty hours. Brett stayed with him, almost jumping out of his skin when Murdock’s body spasmed, his hand clenching down on Brett’s and his sightless eyes flew open, staring blank and empty at the ceiling. Brett has no idea how, because Murdock was blind and there was no chance to say anything, but he’s still convinced that half a second of consciousness was enough for Murdock to realize Foggy was gone, because with one harsh exhale he breathed out the last of his life and his body died as it slumped back against the too clean sheets.

Brett takes another slug of whiskey as he remembers what happened next, or rather what didn’t happen. When he staggered down to the station, still groggy even after sleeping away the day, he found that while he’d waited those long hours at the hospital his co-workers – not colleagues, not friends, never again – had wrapped up the case as violent home invasion. Some poor homeless guy too spun out on drugs to even know what day it was had confessed and taken a plea deal to avoid trial. All wrapped up so nice and neat all that was missing was a big shiny bow.

He may have punched some people then, but was just patted on the head, sent home on leave, and allowed to come back when it was clear he wasn’t going to rock the boat. Brett had just nodded along. He’d have been happy to tip the whole boat over, but what good would that do, he’d only get shot in the back for his trouble, and nothing else would change. It was better to keep his head down and eyes open and maybe he’d get a chance.

At least that was what he tells himself every day to justify not fighting. He hadn’t taken Fisk’s money but he might as well have done and somedays he can’t stand living in his own skin. He leans back against the wall and stares up at the black clouded sky as whiskey and tears burn through him.

As he watches, for a just moment, the ghostly light of the moon breaks through the darkness.

Ohhhh whoa. This is so good!!

Thank you

This is amazing.
Brett's frustration and loss of his friends led him to become something he never expected and he's ashamed of himself.

I bet if Foggy si to come back he will tell him not to worry taht Matt will take of everything while eh ask Bree how Bess is doing and if she wants some cigars.

Yes Brett's trapped without anywhere to turn. I don't think Foggy's the sort that comes back though.

OP back to say THANK YOU SO MUCH! This is absolutely fantastic!

Thank you, I'm pleased you like it

I love it. It really underscores the state of the neighborhood without Daredevil's influence. I'm excited for the rest!

Thank you. Regardless of whether you think Daredevil's a good idea or not, things would be worse without him.

Sarah shoves her fist tight against her mouth to stifle her tears, it’s not babyish unless you’re sucking your thumb, Mr Matt said so, his own knuckles chewed red raw. Struggling out of bed – it’s no sanctuary anymore – she slides down beside it and huddles up there dragging an old towel around her as a makeshift blanket. It smells of dust and dirt but nothing worse like musk or sweat so she buries her nose in it and breathes deeply. She’s still cold but she doesn’t mind that, it’s better than the suffocating heat and press of flesh.

Eventually she stops shaking and swipes at her watery eyes. Lifting her head, she stares out the window at the dark night sky and remembers. Remembers when she held the door of the convenience store for blind man with a white stick and he gave her a dollar and told her to keep it for something important and that evening the her parents’ doorbell rang sharply and the blind man, Mr Matt, and his husband Mr Foggy were at the door.

Her daddy shouted and yelled and called them a couple of fags but Mr Matt and Mr Foggy kept on smiling and Mr Foggy explained how they were lawyers who they stopped bad things from happening and people could hire them to protect them for nothing more than a dollar. Sarah had looked at Mr Matt and he had taken off his dark glasses off, looking down at her so kindly, that Sarah had run up to him and held out the dollar clenched in her fist.

“Will you protect me?”

“Of course,” said Mr Matt. He took the dollar and bounced it gently in his hand. Sarah had watched the silver dollar fly through the air and dance over Mr Matt’s scrapped knuckles as her daddy yelled about how they couldn’t just break into his house and order him around but Mr Foggy wasn’t frightened at all, just said how he knew all sorts of important people like judges and could make life very unpleasant for people who hurt his clients.

Daddy had shouted some more and her mommy had too, so Mr Matt tucked away the silver dollar and picked Sarah up and took her out for hot chocolate while Mr Foggy talked to her parents. Mr Matt didn’t ask her any questions she couldn’t answer like the social worker ladies did and the hot chocolate was nice – Sarah didn’t expect anything to actually change though.

But from that day on, every time her daddy came into her bedroom, before he could do anything there would be a ring on the doorbell and Mr Matt would be there asking to see his client and her daddy would get mad but Mr Matt would smile and smile until her daddy got so mad he’d say, “Fine, do whatever the hell you want,” and Mr Matt would take her out for hot chocolate and then back to his apartment and Mr Foggy would be there blinking sleepy and say, “Oh God again,” and “Come in, come in,” and there would be a bed made up on the couch just for Sarah.

One time her daddy got really, really mad and he hit Mr Matt and Sarah had sobbed because she thought Mr Matt would go away and never come back. But Mr Matt had just laughed and said,

“That wasn’t very clever was it Mr Galbraith, hitting a defenseless blind man. Tch, tch, that won’t play well in court at all.” Then Mr Matt pushed her daddy up against the wall fists in his shirt, “Assuming it even gets to court and I don’t just go with my first impulse and beat you to a bloody pulp, do you understand me, Mr Galbraith?”

Her daddy said, “What the hell?” and, “You’re supposed to be blind for fuck’s sake,” and more and more bad words until Mr Matt shook him,

“I said, do you understand me, Galbraith?”

“Yeah, yeah, I understand you.”

After that Sarah didn’t have to go home hardly at all and Mr Matt and Mr Foggy’s couch ended up pushed across the room to make way for a camp bed because, said Mr Foggy,

“I don’t want her suing us for her chiropractic bills if she spends the next ten years sleeping on the couch.”

Then one day her mommy collected her from school and wouldn’t let her go. Sarah had been scared, but only a little bit, because she’d know if her daddy opened her bedroom door Mr Matt would come.

But in the morning her daddy had been all smug and grinning and Sarah had hated him with her whole heart. Her daddy was right though, Mr Matt and Mr Foggy wouldn’t be coming over anymore because bad men had broken into their home and Mr Matt had been hurt really bad, like nobody should ever be hurt, Mr Matt said so. Then the bad men had beaten Mr Matt and Mr Foggy until they died.

Sarah had cried and cried until her eyes were dry and hurting but she still couldn’t understand how the world could have no more Mr Matt and Mr Foggy. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right. No more Mr Matt laughing and saying,

“How can you be worse at cooking than me, I’m blind for f-freak’s sake.” (Mr Matt always pretended not to swear if he thought Sarah was listening) and Mr Foggy would laugh and say,

“No fair, your super-sensitive snozz can tell things are burning before they even start burning.”

“That doesn’t even make any sense Nelson.” And then they would hit each other with the oven mitts, not hard or anything, laugh some more, and then order take-out. They’d even let Sarah pick her out her own meal.

Sarah loved Mr Matt and Mr Foggy and now they’re dead and she can’t bear it. She’s all alone, there isn’t anybody to stop her daddy when he opens her bedroom door at night.

She stares up at the sky, at the moon shining as bright and gleaming as the silver dollar dancing in Mr Matt’s hands.

As she watches, before the dark clouds can cover the light, a shadow breaks free and darts across the circle of the moon. For a moment she thinks she sees the shade of a great, black, bird.

Were you aiming for my heart? Even if you weren't, that's what you hit. Excuse me while I go crawl into a small corner somewhere and tape together the broken pieces.

Keep writing dear, you are fantastic.

That ending scene of Sarah loving Matt and Foggy and watching the moon gave me actual shivers, anon. Shivers!!

Oh this was heartbreaking.
he dinamic you created between Mat and Foggy is beautiful and they both fought to protect the lil girl.

I do wonder. On that night how they got them, couldnt Matt hear them coming?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Daredevil Prompt Post #11

Fill: Matt/Foggy The Crow AU. Major character death. Self harm 1/3

Re: Fill: Matt/Foggy The Crow AU. Major character death. Self harm 1/3

Re: Fill: Matt/Foggy The Crow AU. Major character death. Self harm 1/3

Re: Fill: Matt/Foggy The Crow AU. Major character death. Self harm 1/3

Re: Fill: Matt/Foggy The Crow AU. Major character death. Self harm 1/3

Re: Fill: Matt/Foggy The Crow AU. Major character death. Self harm 1/3

Re: Fill: Matt/Foggy The Crow AU. Major character death. Self harm 1/3

Re: Fill: Matt/Foggy The Crow AU. Major character death. Self harm 1/3

Re: Fill: Matt/Foggy The Crow AU. Major character death. Self harm 1/3

Fill: Matt/Foggy The Crow AU. Major character death. Self harm 2/4

Re: Fill: Matt/Foggy The Crow AU. Major character death. Self harm 2/4

Re: Fill: Matt/Foggy The Crow AU. Major character death. Self harm 2/4

Re: Fill: Matt/Foggy The Crow AU. Major character death. Self harm 2/4