It's just been that kind of night. Matt's been acting weird, which isn't surprising he's always been weird, but today it was weirder. And Karen knows that the injuries from his "car accident" are still hurting him, even if he doesn't say anything. She's been seriously considering dragging him to the hospital to get his immune system looked at, because he should be healed by now. And Foggy….well. Foggy's been sneaking around with his soulless ex and pretending like she and Matt don't know about it. Not that she cares. Not that she had any kind of claim to him anyway. But it's been a shitty, shitty day and Karen is happy to be heading home. Unfortunately, Hell's Kitchen has a turning a night from bad to worse. In her case, it's in the form of a kid.
"Jesus shit," Karen swears, kneeling in a puddle of the girl's blood and whipping out her phone to call 911. The girl is conscious, but barely. "Hey, hey stay with me. Help's on the way, okay? What's your name, tell me your name." Karen has to fight to keep her voice steady. She's not the one bleeding to death in an alleyway. The girl groans and tries to move, but Karen forces her down. There's something buried in her side that is making the bleeding worse and her eyes are rolling in her head. "My name's Karen. What's yours?"
"Cass…Cassandra," the girl manages through the mouth full of blood. God, it's everywhere. "My…my name's Cassandra."
"Okay, Cassandra, help is coming, just stay with me, okay?"
"The kid," Cassandra grinds through her teeth. "What…where's the kid?"
"What kid?" Karen asks. "Cassandra, is someone else hurt?"
"They were…they were…" her voice strains as she tries to sit up again, twisting whatever is ripping into her side. Her breath is coming in short, quick gasps. "Jesus. Where…is he?"
"There's no one else here," Karen says helplessly, pushing her hands against the girl's side to stop the bleeding. Or try to anyway. Cassandra screams, her body convulsing once before her eyes flutter closed.
"Cassandra?" Karen shouts, trying to wake her back up. "Cassandra!" There are sirens in the distance but she doesn't know if they're for her. This is Hell's Kitchen after all.
Cassandra wakes to the mechanic beeping of a heart rate monitor. It doesn't take her long to realize where she is. Hospitals have a very distinct smell, like antiseptic and death and unshed tears and it's everywhere. How she got there is a different question. She doesn't remember much from before, just the copper taste of blood in her mouth and the screaming pain of being stabbed in the side with God-knows-what. She keeps her eyes closed, belatedly realizing that she's not alone in the room.
"You're awake." The woman from the street. Cassandra has to think for a moment before she can remember her name. Karen. Karen with the frantic voice. Cassandra struggles to sit up and Karen jumps to her feet. "No, you shouldn't move. The doctors say it's a miracle you weren't killed." Cassandra's mouth twists into a frown. Sure as hell doesn't feel like a miracle. It kind of feels like she got scraped off of death's door. "How do you feel?"
"Like I got stabbed," she replies, wincing. Talking hurts.
"They took a six inch piece of jagged pipe out of your side," Karen explains, moving to stand by the bed. "You're lucky."
"I feel lucky," Cassandra says, opening her eyes without thinking. Predictably, Karen sucks in a shocked breath and her heart jumps in her chest. "I've been told my eyes are a little unsettling…sorry. If it makes you feel any better, I can't see the look on your face." She can, however, feel embarrassment and guilt rolling off of Karen in waves.
"I'm sorry," Karen says quickly. Cassandra shrugs – or tries to, before pain radiates through her entire body.
"Ow. Shit. Don't be…" she trails off. Whatever they've pumped into her system is starting to make her feel woozy again, dulling her senses. "Thanks. For…stopping." Not many people do nowadays. Especially not for a skinny blind kid.
"Cassandra, is there anyone I can call?" Karen asks and it sounds like her voice is being filtered through water. "Do you have a family? A mom or dad to come get you?"
"No," Cassandra mumbles, her eyes fluttering closed again. "Just me."
She doesn't know how long she floats in and out of consciousness. Time is kind of hard to track when you can't read clocks. Her moments of sleep are drenched in wet blood and stink of metal and fear. When she finally wakes, it's a quick, painful wrench from the still and quiet. God she hates hospitals. The heart rate machine next to her is screeching, screaming in her ear and there's someone sobbing in the adjacent room. The whole building pulses with pain and heartbreak and illness and Cassandra can feel it all pressing against her skull. The pain medication has been blocking it out for her, but the drugs must be wearing off, because everything is flooding back in again.
This time it doesn't take long for her to sense someone in the room with her.
"Who's there?" she asks, her voice rasping and soft. "Karen?"
"Karen went home," a male voice says. "I'm Matt Murdock." There's a creak as Matt stands up and the familiar tap of a plastic cane on the floor.
"You're blind," she says. It's not a question.
"So are you. Good ears."
"You know what they say about the other senses compensating," Cassandra says before something occurs to her. "Do you even know Karen? Or did they just send a blind man to talk sense into the blind kid with a death-wish?"
"Well they didn't tell me you had a death-wish," Matt replies. Cassandra can hear his smile. "Yes, I know Karen. We work together." Cassandra waits for the lie. It doesn't come. "Can you tell me what happened? How you ended up in the street with a piece of pipe in your side?" Cassandra slowly pulls herself into a sitting position, gritting her teeth against the pain. Breathing deeply, she forces herself to concentrate, zeroing in on the vibrations filling the room and blocking out everything else. He isn't a cop; she doesn't feel the metal of a badge. But something about him is distinctly lawful. And something is very, very dark. She lets out a breath and relaxes, allowing the rest of the vibrations back in. The woman in the room next door has stopped crying but the air is still salty with saline.
"I was in the wrong place at the wrong time," Cassandra answers. Lies. "I was walking home and I got jumped. I'm not exactly intimidating." Blind and five-foot-nothing, Cassandra makes an easy target, but no one expects her to come out swinging. Who'd suspect a kid who can't see to be able to accurately throw a punch?
"Karen says you were asking about a boy when you passed out. Who is he?"
"There were several, they were the ones beating up on me," Cassandra lies again.
"There wasn't someone you were trying to find in particular?"
"I was just trying to get home," Cassandra insists, feeling irritation prickle under her skin. He doesn't believe her. It's rolling off of him in waves, clogging up the air.
"And where is that, Cassandra? Karen said that you don't have any family."
"God, you're from social services, aren't you?" she accuses, narrowing her useless eyes. Not that he can see them anyway but it's an old habit that's hard to get rid of. "Buddy, I'm nineteen, so if the nuns are still looking for me, you can tell them where to shove it." Jesus Christ. You run away from one exorcism and the whole system collapses.
"I'm not from social services, I'm a defense lawyer." A blind lawyer? Finding legal books in Braille must have been a pain in the ass. "How long have you been homeless?" Cassandra bites her lip. She doesn't want to tell him. She's grateful to Karen for pulling her off of the street and getting her help, but she never asked for it.
"Almost two years," she answers finally, truthful for the first time. Usually she holes up in an abandoned theater by the river. It's safe and thoroughly dilapidated; plus, Cassandra made sure to spread a rumor that it's cursed. For someone like her, it's as good a home as any.
"That's a long time for a blind kid to be on her own."
"I can take care of myself."
"Clearly, when you managed to get yourself stabbed walking to the home that you don't have."
"We can't all be defense lawyers. How do you stomach that anyway? Defending creeps and criminals?" It's a weak stab at changing the subject, but Matt takes it.
"I'm not that kind of lawyer. My partner and I only defend the innocent."
"And what if they're lying to you? No offense but you and I don't have the gift of reading body language."
"That's true," he says. "But sometimes you just know." Cassandra snorts. That doesn't sound like a good way to run a law firm. Then again, sometimes she can tell when someone's lying, despite being decidedly sightless. The silence stretches for a moment too long to be comfortable before a nurse bustles in, along with Karen and a man whose voice Cassandra doesn't recognize. She nearly gags on the smell of his cheap hair gel. Matt hovers unhelpfully as the nurse changes her bandages and asks her to rate her pain. With some luck, she should be out of here soon. Unfortunately, everything they've done to keep her alive is starting to rack up some serious bills and she's got no way to pay any of it. She's nineteen and homeless. Hopefully she can find a way to slip out and disappear without anyone noticing.
While the nurse takes out her IV drip, Cassandra clicks her tongue, following the vibrations as they bounce off of the walls and out the open door. It's a straight shot to the exit and the guard rotation in this hospital is slow and lethargic. It shouldn't be a problem to get herself out, provided she can snag some clean clothes and that no one sees her eyes. Not that she knows what they look like exactly, but they attract attention. Not everyone is as polite as Karen.
"How are you feeling?" Karen asks gently when the nurse leaves.
"Like I'm choking on hair gel," Cassandra replies. Whoever the new man is, he really needs to tone it down. "Buddy, I don't mean to be rude but that stuff reeks."
"Christ, she's got a nose like you do," the new man says and Matt laughs.
"Is it really that bad?"
"Yes," Matt and Cassandra reply together.
"Cassandra, this is Foggy," Karen introduces. "He's Matt's partner at the firm."
"Foggy?" she repeats. "They let you practice law with a name like that?"
"Technically my name is Franklin," Hair Gel says. "But the ladies call me Foggy." The temperature in the room spikes and Cassandra can only guess that Foggy winked. Office romance. Nice. The three of them stay for a while, making awkward conversation; none of them know what to say to her and it shows. Karen feels responsible for dragging her out of the gutter and the other two are just here to support her. Cassandra doesn't hold it against them. That Foggy guy is funny, even if he does smell, but there's something about Matt that bugs her. Something off with his signature that she just can't place.
Cassandra waits a few hours for the hospital to quiet – quiet is a relative term for hospitals. Even when the majority of patients are asleep, orderlies still bustle around, mopping, fixing, stocking. The groans of sick patients are endless and everywhere is the electric humming of the machines keeping people alive. Getting out of bed takes longer than she anticipates. She's been off of the pain medication for almost six hours and honestly, drugs sound like a great idea right now. If not for the pain, then for the vibrations. Everything inch of this building is vibrating with pain and misery and it is hurting her. Finally, Cassandra manages to slip out of the room, clicking and feeling until she finds a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. They're too big, but they'll do. She's nearly out of the parking lot when she feels someone behind her.
"They had bets, you know," Matt says, his cane tapping. "On whether or not you'd run."
"Who won?" Cassandra asks, trying not to seem like she's been caught redhanded, which she has.
"Foggy. He's good at betting. Lucky for you, and the hospital, we took care of the bills and got you discharged. You're free to go."
"And you couldn't tell me that when the sun was up?"
"You made fun of Foggy's hair. He's a little sensitive about that. I've been told it's long and the ladies love it." Ah yes, Foggy and the ladies. Absently, Cassandra wonders if he knows about Karen's little crush, or if that's one of those things that she should keep to herself.
"Look," she says. "Tell Karen I said thank you. To all of you. I appreciate everything you've done for me, but I'm better off on my own." Cassandra doesn't wait for a reply, turning back towards the street. It'll take a while to get back to her side of town, but she can manage.
"I used to think that," Matt says, stopping her dead in her tracks. "I used to think that it would be better if I just went off somewhere and buried my head in the sand. I didn't get that far. Looks like you did."
"So what?" Cassandra asks. "Are you going to rescue me Mr. Murdock, attorney at law? Because I think that would literally be a 'blind leading blind' situation." He laughs.
"No. I don't think you need much rescuing, Cassandra. But I can give you a place to crash until you can find somewhere better. I've got plenty of space."
"You want me to just go with you to your apartment. I don't know you."
"Would you believe me if I told you that Karen said the same thing? She was our client before we started working together, and someone was trying to kill her. I offered her protection and now I'm offering you a place to stay." He laughs again. "This time it's a little less stressful on my part." Cassandra tilts her head, feeling for the familiar pulse of a lie, of malicious intent. There isn't any. He's sincere.
"Fine. But this place of yours better be nice."
So I have been sucked into Daredevil hell and this is what happened. Also I swear Cassandra/Matt isn't endgame, I'm not into pairing my OCs with the main characters. Hope you all enjoyed and please review!
