298. Reverse Sides AU! (Everyone on dark side is light and everyone on light side is dark) – ft. Wilson Fisk and Wesley, + Daredevil
"Wesley, what just happened?" Wilson stared at the fires through his window. Fear gripped him, and he didn't know- those were the Ranskahov brothers' buildings. His business-partners' buildings were just bombed. "Wesley-"
"I'm trying to find out, sir," Wesley interrupted, texting and emailing at the same time, phone in one hand, thumb delicately, quickly, perfectly tapping the screen, laptop in front of him with the other hand flying, gliding, dancing across the keys. "Madame Gao is safe, and so are the others – the brothers are missing though." Wilson downed the rest of his champagne, tensing as the clicking of keys paused. "Anatoly has been spotted. He's…he's on fire, and fighting the Devil of Hells Kitchen."
On fire.
"The Devil set the bombs, didn't he?" Wilson whispered. "Didn't he, Wesley?"
A pause.
"It seems so, sir."
Wilson's face twisted and crumpled, eyes stinging as he turned, throwing his champagne glass, screaming pure noise. His friends, his partners – Anatoly would probably be dead by sundown, and there was no way Vladimir escaped from the fires unscathed. Everything was falling apart around him, one pillar crumbling at a time.
And all because of him – him being the man in black, the Devil of Hells Kitchen, who seemed to take offence to his very existence.
"Wesley, I need him taken care of. This world…there are so many people with powers, and who get away with the worst of crimes. The man in black must be," Wilson's face became pained, "he must be eliminated. Contact someone who can bring him in, or, if they have to…"
"Sir," a hand rested on his elbow, "Are you sure?"
"It goes against all my basic principles, but…yes. He is too dangerous." Wilson sat down, putting his face in his hands. "Tell Vanessa that we are moving up our visit to see my parents to this weekend. Then find some time for yourself, James."
There was a short silence, before, "Sir." And then Wesley left, leaving Wilson to his thoughts, and to his guilt.