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This is part of a series, check out my profile for the other stories.
"You realize that our mistrust of the future makes it hard to give up the past."
Chuck Palahniuk
Chapter One
A chill ran over Clara's exposed skin, the wind pricking at her neck, as she crouched, perched on the rooftop of an abandoned warehouse. Hidden in the darkness, the only source of light being the sliver of moon above her, she had free range to observe the movements of the officers surrounding the place. Dirty cops, she knew it, she could practically smell it on them. She turned her focus to the building, or more importantly, to the men inside. There were two of them, one of their mind's was foreign, a stranger, but the other wasn't, the other was very familiar, a mind she knew very well.
Two of the cops moved into the alleyway beneath her, no doubt doing the rounds of the building. Now was her opportunity.
She reached out her hand, wiggling her fingers, causing the trash cans to start shaking. The men nearly jumped out of their skins, aiming their guns at the now immobile trash cans, relaxing a bit.
"There's nothing here." One said to the other, "Probably just a rat or something."
"Yeah," the other agreed, "Let's go."
Smiling smugly to herself, she watched as the pair of them retreated back to safety. Quietly, she jumped down onto the fire escape, making her way down to the ground. She slid through the shadows, completely undetected, into the warehouse.
Stretching out her mind, she found the two men, a level below her, heading out into the tunnels.. As much as she loathed having to take the stairs, the lack of an elevator meant that the only other way would be to fall. And she hated falling even more.
"Hey." She called out, knowing that he was probably already aware of her presence, as she neared the hole in the floor where the grate had been, "Just warning you, I've almost reached you, so if your company has a weapon, tell him not to shoot me."
"Clara?" He called out, as she lowered herself down the ladder, "What are you-"
"We don't have time for questions," she said, turning the corner, eyeing the other man, "But first, I need to know who this is."
"Vladimir," Matt answered, "He's a criminal."
"Good to know"
"Where are we?" Asked Vladimir
"Access tunnels," Matt explained, "The city was built on a network of these, most of them closed up years ago."
"Alright," he announced, as they both moved to support the wounded Vladimir, "We need to keep moving, find our way to the street."
They made it around another bend, gently resting Vladimir against the wall, beside the door. And, despite Matt's attempts, it wouldn't budge.
Ordinarily, Clara would have offered her own superhuman assistance, but she strongly suspected that blowing a door off its hinges would lead the SWAT team currently searching the abandoned building, straight towards them.
"Do you trust me?" She asked
"Yes."
"There's two of them, you deal with them," she instructed, "And I'll make sure none of us get splattered with bullets."
"Alright."
Just as he agreed, the two men rounded the corner, and Clara three out her hand, pushing Vladimir back towards the opposite wall. Then, she swung both her arms towards either sides of the tunnel, sending the guns away from the men.
Watching on, Clara was sufficiently impressed by Matt's skill as he took out the, no longer armed, men. And in a non-lethal way. It was strange for her, having been taught in her training to always go for the kill, to see someone so actively avoid it. Strange indeed.
"Let's go." said Matt, stopping when he noticed a light shining on him, coming from a leftover gun that Vladimir had gotten a hold of, "There's five more coming, all working for Fisk, probably not even real cops. We don't have time for this."
"I think...maybe I stay." said Vladimir
"We can still make it outta here," said Matt, "You turn evidence on Fisk."
"He controls the police, judges," countered Vladimir, "There's only one to stop him, you know this."
"No. I'm not a killer."
"The moment you put on the mask, you got into cage with animals," said Vladimir, "Animals don't stop fighting. Not until one of them is dead."
"What Fisk did to me, he will do to you," he continued, "And he will do it to everyone you care about. Will you feel the same way then? Or will you be man, and do what you know you must do?"
"The animal who controls money, his name is Leland Owsley," Vladimir told them, "He'll give you what you think you want. But it won't be enough. You know that now, don't you. Go."
"Удачи." (Good luck) She told him, Matt giving her a quizzical look, before she grabbed onto his arm, pulling him down the tunnel
Gun shots rang out as they made their way through the barely lit tunnel. Clara threw a look over her shoulder, hesitating for a moment. Matt did no such thing. Not even showing the slightest physical reaction. Stoic as ever.
Thankfully, Matt waited until they had returned to his apartment, to begin his questioning of her.
"Why are you here?"
"Ah, first things first, sit on the couch, take your shirt off." Clara instructed, and he reluctantly followed, "Luckily, I predicted that you'd need medical assistance, and left some supplies here."
"You broke into my apartment?" Matt asked, as she grubbed her bag from where she'd left it
"Kinda, sorry."
As far as paitents went, Matt was a pretty good one. He handled the pain well enough, his winces only minor. His expression was stoic, carefully calculated, refined. It wasn't until she was finished, that he spoke.
"How did you find me?"
"I'd been following the news, wanted to find out who the masked vigilante was." She explained, momentarily moving away to retrieve a beer from the fridge, "Knew where the major crime areas are, waited on the top of the building until something happened."
"How many nights did you spend up there?"
"A few."
"Still don't sleep much?" He asked. It was a simple question, but this was intimate knowledge, that few knew. Because, he'd experienced first hand her sleeping patterns.
"Not really."
As she sat back down, he reached out his hand, expectedly.
"You're not getting a beer, alcohol thins the blood." She reminded him, "Don't want to bleed out on your couch."
"How did you know it was me?"
"Educated guess mixed with some research." Clara shrugged, "What else have you been up to?" She asked, taking a swig of the beer, the alcohol rushing down her throat, "I mean, besides beating up bad guys on your nights off. A completely normal past time, I'm sure is shared by many."
"I'm a defence attorney," he said, "Foggy and I started up our own firm."
"You were still studying law the last time we spoke," she said, "You did always want to help the innocent, clean up the streets and what not."
"What about you?" He asked, "Fighting aliens, taking down government agencies."
"Uh, yeah," she said, tucking her hair behind her ear, "I guess there's a lot I didn't tell you about. I'm sorry, for keeping secrets, it's a habit, I'm trying very hard to break."
"I understand," he replied, "Sometimes you have to keep things from your loved ones in order to keep them safe." And Clara knew he was talking from personal experience.
"Does anyone know about this?" She said, "Your nightly escapades."
"Only one. Claire, she's a nurse, she found me in a dumpster after a fight, patched me up." He explained, "You're concerned." He remarked, causing her to raise her eyebrow, and even though she knew he couldn't see her face, she felt like he knew her reaction, "Your pulse sped up. I've only heard it do that when you're worried."
"Of course I'm concerned," she said, "You putting not only your body, but your life, on the line. What if you don't get away next time?"
"I'll be fine." He assured her, "I'm sure this is nothing compared to what you've done."
"How much do you know?" She asked, her voice lowering, "About...me?"
"I know that you fought against an alien army to save New York." he said, "And helped to stop Hydra from killing everyone."
It was the truth, but it was exactly what he thought she wanted to hear. Matt always had a habit of knowing what she wanted, and he always delivered.
"You seem very calm for a man that found out his ex-girlfriend was a spy," she said, taking another gulp of her beer, "I'm kinda hoping you freaked out at least once."
"Foggy reacted worse." He said, "I always knew there was something more to you."
"And why's that?"
"Your pulse rarely ever wavered," he said, "And I know for a fact that no one tells the truth all the time."
"When did my pulse waver?" She asked, "Besides the times I was concerned for you."
"When you left."
"You know, I broke up with you because I was called out on a mission," she said, "And when I came back a month later, you had a new girlfriend."
"I thought you weren't coming back." He told her, apologetically, "If it's any consolation, we didn't last long. She said I was still hung up someone else, I s'pose she was right."
"What's your definition of not lasting long?" She asked, "I thought you only dated girls a month or two?"
"We lasted almost a year"
"Nine months actually," Clara corrected,"Guess we were both special to each other," she said, "Still the longest relationship I've had in a far while. Flings and failed attempts at relationships dictate my love life."
"So, there's been no one else?"
"I didn't say that." She said, "There was a guy, but he was apart of my mission, and our entire relationship was based off of lies. And then I had to leave anyway."
"Why?" He asked, "Got called back home after going rogue?"
"No, I found out that Captain America was still alive," she said, "And that's the other overly complicated relationship."
"Why? Wouldn't you bond through shared life experiences?" He asked, her lips pulling into a smirk. So he did know more about her then he let on.
"Well, we were finally getting somewhere," she explained, "But finding out that my presumed dead husband/his best friend, isn't so dead, kinda put a damper on things."
"I'm sorry." He told her, unable to say anything more then give his condolences
"That's okay, I've got some major trust and commitment issues anyway." She admitted, "What about you? Something going on with the nurse?"
"Possibly," he said, "I don't know."
"I used to be a nurse." She mused, "I was an army nurse actually, during WWII."
"Do you miss it?" He asked, and she knew he was talking about more then just her previous profession
"I used to miss it a lot," she sighed, "But it was another life. A few lifetimes ago actually. The past's the past, it can't be changed and we can't go back. I starting missing it less after I accepted that."
"I know what that's like."
"So, what's the big picture here?" She asked, "Who's this Fisk guy?"
"He's running a criminal operation," said Matt, "He's got most of the police force on his payroll."
"Corrupt government employees," she said, "Never the nicest to deal with, always make things difficult."
"Very."
"What are you planning to do?" She asked, "Take Fisk out of play?"
"Cut off the head of the snake and the body flounders."
"And how do you know two more won't grow back in his place?"
"So you're saying I shouldn't even bother?"
"No, I'm asking if you know what you're signing up for," she said, "Fisk is one piece of a much larger problem. And to be honest, getting him locked up, whilst obviously a good thing, could potentially cause a lot of trouble."
"How so?"
"The King falls, and everyone scrambles to claim the throne," she said, "That's what you're signing up for. The problem won't end with Fisk."
"Never thought it would."
"What will you do? If you refuse to kill him," she said, "And if he truly is as powerful as you say, how are you gonna take him down?"
"I'll find a way." He said, "There must be something I can use to bring him down."
"I'll see if I can find anything."
"I can't ask that of you."
"You're not asking, I'm offering." She said, "I want to do everything I can to prevent it coming down to you being forced to kill him."
"What, do you want to save my soul?" He asked, "I thought you weren't religious."
"I'm not," she agreed, "But take it from me. Religion aside, killing isn't easy, and the guilt it causes is not something I would wish on anyone, especially not someone I care about."
"Why did you come into the building?" He asked, "You could've been hurt. I could never live with myself if you got hurt because of me."
"Trust me, I can definitely hold my own." She chuckled, "Besides, I doubt Fisk could take on the Avengers if something did happen to me. You don't have to worry about me, I didn't get to ninety four by being careless."
"You haven't aged a bit."
"And how would you know?"
"May I?" He asked, reaching out his hand
"Of course." She replied, taking his hand, guiding it to her cheek
His fingers slid over her skin, her cheek, her forehead, her nose, her lips.
"You still look the same," he told her, his other hand moving to her hair, "Your hairs shorter, did you cut it?"
"Thought I needed a change, adapt to new situations, and all that."
"Did it help?"
"No, but it was worth a shot."
Matt smirked at her, and she chuckled along with him. Shrugging off trauma was a specialty of hers. Sensing her discomfort, he cleared his throat, before speaking up.
"Where are you staying?"
"Why? You offering?" She teased, her lips pulling into a cheeky grin
"I don't think you'd enjoy sleeping on my couch," he reied, "The glowing sign might annoy you."
"Probably. But I've slept in worse conditions."
Silence passed over them, and the weight of the situation, that she'd been pushing back against, finally collapsed on her.
Because she was sitting on a couch drinking a beer with Matt Murdock. With the man, who despite the brevity of their relationship, she'd been madly in love with.
When they were together, they were just two normal people, in a normal relationship, with normal lived. Not weighed down with baggage. With anger and grief. With the reality of their circumstances.
Not like they were now.
"Do you want to see it?" Clara asked, sharply snapping both the silence, and the tension, that had filled the room
"See what?"
"The sign." She said, "Or, anything else for that matter. Anything at all."
"How?" He asked, his voice raising slightly
"Just, trust me." Clara whispered, "Okay. I'm not going to hurt you."
After some deliberation, Matt opened his mouth, "The sky." He told her, "That's what I want to see."
"Okay."
Leaning forward, she softly placed her hands on his cheeks, her fingers brushing his skin. It was a familiar feeling, but an old one, like a book you loved and start re-reading a few years later. Everything's the same, but different.
It took a few moments for her to decide on the memory to show him. But she found it, the perfect one.
"Matt, you have to open up your mind, okay, let me in," she instructed, her voice soothing, "Don't fight against it. Alright?"
"Alright."
I had some technical difficulties uploading the full chapter, so the rest of this chapter is in the next.
I've added a new chapter to A Series of Occurences that is Clara/Matt, and I've also added Matt to the poll.