I just finished Luke Cage, and I am overwhelmed with feels so I had to write something. These are inspired from scenes in Episode 11 and Episode 13. So there are spoilers.

Until Later

Claire Temple had seen a lot of in her life – some terrible, some heart-wrenching and some downright amazing.

But one of the most painful things to watch was to see Luke in handcuffs.

He was innocent. She knew it. The hostages he saved knew it, too.

Her gaze was drawn to the flash of silver binding his hands together. Those handcuffs were nothing to him. He could easily snap them like twig to free himself. Instead, he let the police officers led him away. That was the only way to minimize any further violence. The only way to prevent the police officers from opening fire with the newly acquired weapon the Mayor had just sanctioned.

She knew he wasn't worried about himself. He was prepared to pay the price after all when he squared his shoulders to face Willis Stryker but should the police fire those weapons with those rounds of Judas, the danger was incomprehensible. The bullet missing him meant that it could drill through a wall and explode, and maybe even bring the entire Harlem Paradise down. He couldn't have that. Not when she was still inside, not when Misty was still in it.

So he surrendered.

And she watched, wondering what he had planned because going back to prison was the last thing he wanted.

She didn't think he would notice her standing alone by the footpath watching him being led away but then he stopped as the crowd chanted around him. He glanced over his shoulder at her.

"Go," he mouthed.

She didn't want to but she had a promise to him down in that basement.

Claire was no longer there to see the manacles secured around his ankles.

The second time was worse. The pain started as a slow ache in her chest.

There were no cuffs this time, just two Marshalls escorting him out of the precinct back to Seagate, the one place Luke never wanted to return to. The first kiss they shared right in that hallway was filled with a desperate need for her to see him again and she wished it hadn't been so.

Claire had no idea how long she had been standing there alone until Misty approached, a sympathetic hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Claire."

She nodded, forcing a small smile on her face.

"Is there anything you need?"

"I should call Matt," she said quietly, pushing her hair away from her face. "I need to call Matt."

I've never written anything for Marvel, so here's a first :)