A/N: Rewatching Daredevil, and Claire always deserves more fic.
Afterwards, you like to imagine that you were philosophical about it. That there, in that moment, you looked at blood and brokenness and made a choice.
You like to imagine that you wanted to get involved in this.
But you're practical. Not one for fancy decisions—you never have been, anyway. There's never time. So even now, when it's all over, and you have fallen in and out of love, in and out of heartbreak, never really letting go—you can only pretend for so long.
For people like you, it would be easier to jump off a cliff than to climb a mountain.
For people like you, you act before you think, and you lead with your heart and your hands.
So even though you like to imagine that you knew what was coming, that you knew what you were doing, every step of the way, you know that you didn't really think.
You pulled him out of the dumpster and carried him upstairs. You tended his wounds and answered his calls and you fell in love with a man who couldn't save you from yourself.
The cliff was higher than you thought.