Between Matt and Claire, Cassandra isn't left alone for more than three minutes over the course of the next week. Claire is more concerned that she's going to hurt herself, but Matt's got his secret to worry about. If Cassandra tells the world about what blind Matt Murdock's been doing in his spare time, he could go to jail. Last time she checked, vigilantism is against the law.
Cassandra doesn't speak to either of them, too focused on trying to keep her ability from overwhelming her. It's always been bad, but never like this. Only once, she allows herself to wish that Nick was there to help her, but the grief is so intense and so violent that she nearly loses control all over again. She doesn't think of him again. To her credit, Claire tries to help, but she's got no idea what to do and Cassandra won't let her close enough to try. She's been changing her own bandages under Claire's guidance and knows that she's worried about her. Cassandra can't bring herself to care. Nick is dead, she's trapped here, Claire is stuck with a patient that doesn't want to be saved. Life is tough all around.
"How did you get mixed up in all of this?" Cassandra asks nearly a week later. Everything is healing but the worst of her injuries still hurt like a bitch. Claire startles at Cassandra's sudden departure from silence. "You're normal. How does a normal person get involved in the life of a blind vigilante?"
"I found him," Claire says and Cassandra swears that she can hear her smile, "in the garbage outside of my building." Cassandra snorts. Trashcan hero. She should've seen that one coming. "And he was hurt pretty bad, so I patched him up."
"Apparently you're a magnet for blind people who don't know when to stay home."
"You could say that. I've never seen anyone take beatings like you two." Cassandra scowls, not liking being compared to Matt. He's insane, she's just…cursed. "Cassandra, can I ask you something? Something personal?" Slowly, Cassandra nods. If she doesn't want to answer, she'll just lie.
"Did someone hit you when you were younger?" Cassandra stops, blindsided. She'd been expecting any sort of question about the nature of her blindness or the freaky behavior from a few days ago, but nothing like this.
"How can you tell?" It's not an answer but it's all she can manage at the moment.
"Matt told me," Claire answers softly. "He said you've got all kinds of old injuries on your ribs, face, hands. All of that speaks to abuse. It also explains why you can take as much punishment as you did – experience."
"And how does Matt know all of that?"
"He can hear it," Claire says. "He says that broken bones sounds like old ships."
"They sounds like ghosts," Cassandra says. She's always thought that, and her body is filled with them. "And yeah, I got hit a lot. Apparently Christian goodness doesn't apply when you're possessed by the devil." For a while, Cassandra believed it too. How else could she explain everything that had happened to her? How else could she explain how she's able to know exactly where things are despite her ruined eyes? Or how she knows what someone is thinking from another room? If she's not possessed, then what the hell is she?
"So you're an orphan? There's no one out looking for you?"
"Nick," Cassandra says quietly and it's amazing how a single word can completely shatter her concentration. Cassandra grits her teeth and shoves all of it back again, shaking her head as if that can stave off the pain. She's never been good at controlling her emotions and if she can't keep it together she's going to go insane. She needs to stay in control.
"Are you okay?" Claire asks, positively humming with concern. It's no wonder she picked Matt out of the trash instead of calling the cops – Claire radiates with compassion and care. It's going to get her killed. Cassandra cocks her head, listening.
"You've got ghosts too," Cassandra says, trying to change the subject. "Newer than mine. You get hurt because of him?" She doesn't answer, and that's all Cassandra needs.
"Were you trying to get him out? Nick?" Claire asks, flinging the ball back into her court. Cassandra flinches at his name, quickly sealing up the crack in her concentration.
"Yeah. He was in that hellhole because of me. I figured it was the least I could do to try and get him home."
"And where's that?"
"Nowhere," Cassandra replies bitingly. "But anywhere would have been better than that place."
"It's not your fault, what happened to him," Claire says finally after several long minutes of silence. "You almost died trying to save him." I should've died with him, Cassandra thinks bitterly, but she doesn't say anything. She's already said too much. No wonder Matt keeps Claire around: she's a natural-born interrogator. Claire says something, but Cassandra shuts her out just like everything else. The hours pass slowly when she's locked inside her own head but it's not as if she's got anywhere to be. Still, the sounds of her body trying to heal are starting to make her crazy.
In the end, Cassandra pretends to sleep. Matt never shows up for his shift of watching the blind kid with a death wish, so when Claire's convinced, she goes to bed as well. Once Cassandra can hear her steady breathing from the other room, she abandons the pretense, opening the window and slipping out into the open air. Cassandra scrambles over the rooftops, figuring that they're safer than the streets. She gets exactly one block away before she feels someone coming up behind her.
"I can't see it, but I'm willing to guess that the outfit makes you look like a real asshole," Cassandra says, sensing Matt before he can announce himself. Matt and a hell of a lot of leather.
"I've been told that it's a little much, but it's better than what I wore before."
"My compliments to your personal designer," Cassandra says coldly, wondering who's head he had to bash in to get a custom made super suit. "I'll be seeing you around, hero."
"What exactly are you planning to do?" Matt asks.
"Getting away from you seems like a pretty good first step."
"And then what? You keep living on your own, day to day? Running away from everything you can't control? Waiting to snap like to did before?"
"What's your brilliant plan then? You going to give me a home? Pass on your wisdom of being blind and still being able to fight crime because 'you don't need eyes to see injustice.' That sound about right?"
"I don't know about all that, but I think I can help you."
"I don't need your help," Cassandra spits. "And I don't want your help. I don't care about the double life bullshit you've got going on here. Be a lawyer, be a vigilante, be a hooker for all I care. Pretend to be blind when you're running around at night with a very uncanny sense of direction, it doesn't make a difference to me." Cassandra turns to go when Matt speaks again.
"I am blind. As blind as you are. I can help you find out what happened to your parents, Cassandra. And your sister." She doesn't wait to gage his reaction; just flies back towards him, slamming her fist into his jaw. Matt doesn't dodge or move to block it and her knuckles come away bloody.
"You shut the fuck up about them," Cassandra hisses, clenching her fists. "I don't care what you can see coming, hero, if you talk about them again, I will kill you. What the fuck do you think you know?" It's a rhetorical question.
"I know that you weren't born like this," Matt continues, ignoring the fact that Cassandra's dark worldview has gone crimson with rage. "I know that there was an attack that took your family and your sight. I know that you're angry and scared and I know how much it's hurting you."
"You don't know anything," Cassandra snarls.
"I know that whatever's going on in your head, it extends to more than just amplified senses. You know things, Cassandra, things that even I don't know. Things you should not be able to know."
"Shut up!"
"I know that I can help you, if you let me. I can help you control everything that's hurting you, and when you can control it, I can help you find who took your family from you."
"And if I say yes? What the hell do you get out of it?"
"I would have never made it if someone hadn't helped me. He taught me how to control my abilities and how to fight. I wouldn't have survived if he hadn't taken care of me." There's fondness in his voice, but also a bitter edge. However that had ended, it wasn't well. So he's trying to recreate his relationship with his old teacher, only trying to do better.
"He left you." Cassandra says. It's not a question. She can feel it. "You know, abandonment is a 'history repeats itself' kind of thing." She knows that she won't be able to handle being left out on the cold, not again. It had almost killed her the first time.
"Cassandra, if you let me help you, I swear I will keep you safe. It won't end like it ended for me. Listen to my heart and tell me if I'm lying." Cassandra cocks her head, but she can't detect a single fluctuation in the steady beating in his chest. He's telling the truth. She doesn't answer at first, weighing her options. She doesn't trust him. Truthful or not, he's a stranger with abilities like hers that he uses to wail on bad guys. Someone like that's got to have issues. But then again, he's offering to teach her how to control everything she senses and feels, as well as opportunity to get the bastards who killed her parents and Jane.
"Fine, I'll play along. For now. What's the first plan of action?" She can hear his smile before he says a word.
"We go back to Claire's and thank her for helping keep you alive. And in the morning, you apologize to Karen for running off." Cassandra winces. That's not going to end well.
"Thank God you're okay," Karen says when Cassandra walks into the office the next morning, sunglasses perched on the bridge of her nose. "We were so worried when you disappeared and…what the hell happened to your face?"
"Ran into a door. Apparently, the universe likes giving me black eyes. I think I just have one of those faces." Cassandra says cavalierly and Karen hums with worry.
"Hey, me too," Foggy adds and some of the tension drains. "In case you couldn't tell, K was a little worried about you. We all were."
"I'm sorry I ran off," Cassandra says softly. "I'm…uh, I'm not good at this, any of this."
"You don't have to apologize," Karen says, sweeping her into a tight hug. Cassandra fights her instinct to push away. Jesus, Karen really was worried. It's clear in every beat of her heart. "We're just glad you're back safe. And since you are back…" Cassandra winces at Karen's smile, knowing before she says a word that whatever's coming isn't going to be fun.
It's a kid. Apparently, one of their clients couldn't get a sitter, so she had to bring her daughter to the office.
"Raquel, this is Cassandra," Karen introduces and Cassandra knows that she's enjoying this. Still, she can't complain. Cassandra had expected tears. Being saddled with a kid is better than tears. "She's going to keep you company while you're mom's in a meeting, okay?"
"Si," the little girl replies and Cassandra listens as Karen's footsteps disappear into the conference room. "I like your gafas."
"Gracias," Cassandra says awkwardly. She doesn't do kids.
"Why are you wearing them indoors? There's no sun here."
"I can't see," Cassandra explains. Which, apparently, is the most fascinating thing Raquel's ever heard because she erupts with questions. They're fired at her so fast that Cassandra can barely keep track of them all and tries to answer as best she can.
"If you can't see, how do you get around?" Raquel asks. Cassandra hesitates, trying to find a way to explain it to a child.
"Can you keep a secret?" she asks, leaning in. Raquel mirrors her eagerly. "I'm a little psychic." The little girl's smile immediately sours and she folds her arms over her chest.
"You're a liar."
"Am not," Cassandra replies, mimicking her tone and silently reflecting on her choices. This is what it's come to. Arguing with a six year old. "I can prove it. Hold your hand out, okay?" Raquel extends her little hand suspiciously and Cassandra runs the tips of her fingers over her palm. It's mostly for show, but touch does help concentrate the vibrations. "So. If I'm lying, how would I know that you had peanut butter and jelly for lunch? Or that your favorite color is purple? By the way, does your mother know that you've got a secret candy stash in your room?" Cassandra grins as Raquel gasps aloud. Most of it is from what she can smell and less what she can sense, but it's convincing.
"You are psychic!" After that, it turns into a game. Raquel grabs everything and anything she can get her hands on, and Cassandra tells her where it came from. It doesn't matter if she's right or not, the little girl is awestruck. For Cassandra's part, it's as simple as touching something to sense where it's been. And when she's only focused on the objects in front of her, everything else fades to the background without her having to force it away.
"Mami!" Raquel shouts when her mother finally comes out of the meeting. "Cassandra es mágica." Cassandra blushes.
"Si?" Raquel's mother says indulgently.
"Si! Ella es psíquica," Raquel says.
"Es cierto," Cassandra says, trying to play it off. "High-five." The little girl smacks her outstretched hand. "Later kiddo."
"You're really good with her," Karen says when Raquel and her mother leave.
"You speak Spanish?" Foggy asks. "Does every blind person in this firm speak Spanish?"
"Half of this city speaks Spanish," Cassandra replies. "Don't you fancy lawyer types have to take a language?"
"I took Punjabi," Foggy says. "The girl in my class was hot."
"And I'm sure it's got lots of real world application."
"It does so have real world application I will have you know – " Foggy starts, backing into the front desk and knocking a mug off of the table. Cassandra steps back, allowing it to shatter on the ground by her feet. "Jesus Christ, I'm so sorry." Foggy says, but there's something in his voice that catches. And he's looking at Matt funny; Cassandra can feel the weight of his stare. Foggy and Karen disappear, presumably to the other room to grab a dustpan.
"Nice save," Matt says softly, barely moving his lips. Cassandra rolls her eyes. Old habit, hard to break.
"Please. I'm blind, not stupid. I didn't think your first lesson was going to be one in condescension." Cassandra knew better than to react to things she shouldn't be able to see. Once, one of the nuns saw her catch a kid who tripped over his own feet and they beat the hell out of her for it. Or that's what they thought they were doing. Apparently, making sure a ten year old doesn't fall flat on his face is the devil's work. It had taken more than a few beatings, but eventually she'd gotten the message. Be blind, or get hit.
"I am so sorry," Foggy says, coming back in with a broom. "Careful Cassie, I don't want you to get cut."
"Cassie?" she asks, carefully backing away.
"I'm trying something new." Cassandra bites her lip, more focused on the weird energy she's reading from Foggy than the nickname. He's watching Matt, disapproval and suspicion clouding the usually bright air around him.
Oh. He knows. He knows about Matt's little side life and doesn't approve. Interesting. Cassandra catches a few more concerned looks her way, but Foggy doesn't say anything and neither does she. Foggy's feelings about Matt's violent alter ego aren't any of her business and Cassandra learned a long time ago not to stick her nose where it didn't belong.
"We'll see you tomorrow morning?" Karen says at the end of the day, standing in the doorway of Matt's place. Hesitation makes her voice wobble.
"Bright and early," Cassandra says and she can feel Karen's relieved smile. "Hey, I told you I wasn't running off again. You guys are stuck with me. Godspeed to you."
"Good," she says and the air moves when she nods, mostly to herself. "Good. Okay, see you then." Karen's just closed the door when something comes flying at Cassandra's head. She swats it away, flinching away from the shattering crash that follows.
"What the hell?" she demands, hearing Matt standing in the kitchen.
"You were supposed to catch it."
"Was I? Some notice next time, hero," Cassandra snaps. This time when he throws two long objects at her, she catches them. They're just sticks. Cassandra frowns, nearly dropping them when the energy spirals into her palms. Blood and pain and betrayal flash in her mind's eye. Jesus, there's some bad juju wrapped up in these. "I don't think it needs saying, but you've got issues man," Cassandra says, shaking off the dark energy.
"So how exactly does it work?" Matt asks and Cassandra leaps aside as he rushes her. He's got sticks of his own and one whistles dangerously close to her head.
"What is your problem?" she demands, raising the stick to block the next blow. The force sends a jolt of pain down her arm.
"Answer the question. Multitask. What do you feel?"
"Beside that my arm is going to fall off?" Cassandra snaps, swearing when the stick whacks against her skin.
"It's just – " Cassandra says, ducking out of the way. "It's energy. When I touch things – " She brings her stick up and Matt smacks her with the other one. "Ow. Jackass. I just feel things, okay? It's not like it's an exact science." She jumps aside again.
"Stop dodging and block," Matt says, smacking her again. "And you didn't answer my question."
"They were yours," Cassandra says, swearing when a blow knocks her off of her feet. "Son of a bitch. Someone stabbed you in the back, someone you trusted, and you got your ass kicked. God, there's blood everywhere."
"And you can sense all that, just from touching those?" Matt extends a hand to help her to her feet and Cassandra swats it away, standing on her own. Old injuries ache from the strain and she grits her teeth.
"Everything gives off vibrations. Memories, energy…Whatever. I can feel all of it, like pressure building in my head."
"You need to learn how block it all out without hurting yourself," Matt says, lunging at her again. This time, Cassandra successfully blocks the attack, only to catch a fist in the stomach. She stumbles backwards, clutching at her abdomen, her cheeks flaming red with embarrassment. He's kicking her ass, and to add insult to injury, he's obviously pulling his punches.
"You don't say? Gee hero, I wish I'd thought of that before."
"You are exceptionally defensive, has anyone ever told you that?" He doesn't attack, just circles around the living room and Cassandra tries to match him step for step.
"Well when you got the shit beat out of you for being a blind freak, you tend to put walls up. Three cheers for old-fashioned Christian discipline. But I bet you don't want me badmouthing the Church, do you choir boy?"
He doesn't take the bait. Which is unfortunate, because Cassandra was pretty proud of figuring that out. He doesn't wear a cross, but Cassandra caught the slightest whiff of incense that brought back all kinds of unpleasant memories.
"Focus on me," Matt says, stepping towards her. "My intentions, my movements. Learn to separate everything in your mind."
"You don't think I've tried that?" Cassandra complains.
"You've never had the right kind of incentive. Consider this your first lesson." This time, Matt attacks in earnest and Cassandra barely has time to scramble away. She curses under her breath. It is going to be a very long night.
So what do you all think of Cassandra's deal with Matt? Comments make my days brighter 3