You should pray, Father.

Pray for the soul of the boy, caught allegedly stealing from a 7/11 after hours.

Pray for the outcome of the trial, that the Lord might show justice, mercy, forgiveness, if the accused opens up his heart to God.

Pray for the defence attorney, the blind son of Jack Murdock, who somehow puts on a mask and does things that a person with sight would find hard, if not impossible.

Pray.

And may God help them, help us, all.

It was not often that Father Lantom went to court. The system was flawed, did not line up with the Lord's intentions more often than not. Attending would only make him uncomfortable. But sometimes it was necessary, for the sake of those accused, for their families, for the lawyer who stood there, cane in hand and dark circular glasses over his unseeing eyes. For common good. Sometimes it was the right thing to do, and today was one of those days.

For Eli Miller, the young man on the stand.

For Matthew Murdock, who despite everything against his client, still believed in his innocence. He was a good man like that. The thing about being a good man is that it was not as simple as going to church, attending confession, doing unto others what you would have them do unto you. Being a good man was something even Father Lantom knew was ambiguous, unclear, undefined, and he knew some would say acts of vigilantism disqualified the attorney from fitting into this hazy category of virtue, but he believed things were never as clear-cut as they might seem. The Devil of Hell's Kitchen was a practising Catholic, irony piled upon irony and somehow, through all that, Matthew Murdock, known also as Matt, managed to be a decent person. A good man? Perhaps. Father Lantom liked to think as much, though that was indeed for the Lord to decide.

All is known by the Lord. And it is by His hands that we are delivered.

The case itself was equally complex. Eli Miller had a reputation for dishonesty and mildly suspect behaviour. His family were church-goers and had referred him to Father Lantom for assistance. Since then, the priest had begun to realise the boy's notoriety was almost wholly undeserved and due in part to exploitation by his so-called friends, and in part to an undiagnosed disorder somewhere on the autistic spectrum. Far from being the defiant teenage rebel the Father had expected to be dealing with, Eli had turned out to be a quiet enough young man with a grave interest in religion.

His arrest had not come as a surprise, though. It had been inevitable that one day, Eli would get himself into a situation with the hand of the law, and that would lead them to where they were now. With the young man of nineteen on trial. For a crime he most certainly had not committed. Would not have committed. Whatever you thought of him, that he was rude, aloof, and odd, it could safely be said he was not a thief. Thou shalt not steal people would quote, Eli would quote. If he had broken that commandment, Father Lantom was a worse judge of character than he had thought.

Besides, Matthew believed he was innocent. There was something about Matt that made Father Lantom certain he knew these things. Perhaps it was the way he could locate you in an empty church without your speaking, or the way he stared at the jury now, almost as if he were seeing them – no, not seeing, there was a slight tilt to the head that betrayed listening.

When God takes something from a person, he gives them gifts to make up for it. If the person has faith. If...

"Eli Miller. A young man who is fervently Catholic. Who would rather have died – yes, died – than broken a single commandment. Who was also the ideal fall-guy should the crime go wrong, already known throughout the neighbourhood for his often unpredictable behaviour. However, this does not make him a criminal. It only makes him pliable. What we will show today is that Eli Miller has been manipulated by those he believed were his friends on numerous occasions and has, in effect, been condemned without any solid evidence being presented. The evidence we do have is circumstantial and so we must examine it closely and come to the decision whether or not it may be relied upon to form a guilty verdict."

Matt's voice cut into the priest's thoughts like a knife, the silence broken at long last. Not for the first time, Father Lantom was glad Eli had such an intelligent attorney, recalling theological discussions he had enjoyed with the blind man turned masked vigilante, questions the younger man had raised that had probed deeper and impressed the priest more than most. Of course he was an excellent lawyer too, that came as no surprise.

It did carry an element of pride with it. Pride that a sightless orphan – well, basically an orphan – had become one of the finest lawyers around. Father Lantom claimed no responsibility for that, but that didn't stop him admiring Matt's hard work. Because it had been hard work, to study, to pass through law school with flying colours. It had taken hard work and strong faith, and Father Lantom could respect that.

Matt Murdock intrigued him. His questions evoked memories of long-gone days that Lantom rarely spoke of to anyone. The way he was able to continue through tragedy, that showed god-given strength the likes of which Lantom struggled to recall seeing in anyone else. And the way he was able to apparently plough through his difficulties and do the impossible, well, that was not just of theological interest, but scientific. How did he do what he did? Did the Lord condone it? Was it right, that was the question? Was it the right thing to do? Matt Murdock was walking the narrow edges between right and wrong and it took a toll on him. Each confession seemed harder for him than the last, as new doubts arose, new sins were committed.

All Father Lantom could offer was absolution. But sometimes the blind man would refuse even that. A man cannot be forgiven until he forgives himself, gives his life over to God to do with as He wished. Was this what the Lord wished for Matt Murdock? A life forever in the shadowy world between good and evil? How could any man live that way?

All Father Lantom could offer was absolution. If his offer was rejected, he had to be there spiritually, until it was received.

That was all he could offer. It was Matt's choice to accept it or not.

At least, Lantom mused as the rest of the trial passed by in a similar fashion, Eli Miller would go free, would have to go free after a trial like that. Both Murdock and his colleague, Franklin Nelson, were attorneys of no small skill, running rings around the already flimsy prosecution.

What little faith Father Lantom had in the law was restored, and he left the trial content, rather than despairing, hopeful. Eli Miller would go free and he had Matthew Murdock to thank for that.

"Father. You were here for the trial?"

"Yes. I was."

"And?"

"And I thanked our Father in Heaven that you were there for the boy. His family will be grateful to you. And so will I. You saved a vulnerable young man from a sentence that would have broken him."

"Thank you, Father."

"The thanks is all mine."