Author's Note: Sorry for the delay folks, this chapter just didn't want to get written. I think my senioritis is starting to affect other things as well. Then I got distracted by prom plans and dog sitting, but Friday is senior skip day, so I'll hopefully be able to get some writing done later that night.
Way back in chapter three, I referenced a conversation between Elektra and Matt that had yet to be written. Well, it's in this chapter, but the idea for it wasn't mine. A lot of it was taken from Daredevil Volume Two, issue thirty-seven, written by Brian Michael Bendis. As always, thanks to those who reviewed and please continue to do so.
Love Me When I'm Gone
Chapter Ten
"How did this happen?"
The deep baritone boomed throughout the large corner office, even though the sentence came in the barest of whispers. The three men to whom the question was directed remained quiet, nearly shaking with fear. That calm, controlled voice did not bode well for any of them.
"How. Did. This. Happen?"
The question came again, each word drawn out for emphasis. Swallowing audibly, Owens, the tallest of the men stepped forward. .
"Sir, we-" Again, he gulped, pausing to wipe the sweat from his brow. "We haven't been able to determine that as of yet, but rest assured, the situation is being handled."
"Handled?"
An impossibly large hand shot out from behind the desk, wrapping itself around Owens' throat. Breath coming in a choked gurgle as his windpipe was crushed in the vice-like grip, Owens was sure he was going to die of a broken neck. He was only half right.
Wilson Fisk hurled his former employee to the other side the room, reveling in the cracking sound that came after his skull hit the nearby wall. James Owens landed in a lifeless heap on the floor, head lolling to the side at an unnatural angle as blood began to seep from his mouth.
The remaining two underlings, who'd had to duck to avoid being hit by the body, now stood stock still as Fisk carefully wiped his hands on the edges of his suit.
"Handled. You see, that's just ridiculous, because if the situation were being handled,then we wouldn't be having this conversation, would we boys?"
Both men shook their heads. "No, sir," they spoke at the same time.
"That's right. Now, I want some answers, and I want them sooner rather then later, or the two of you will join Mr. Owens in his unemployment. Is that understood?"
"Yes sir," came the reply. Again, both men spoke at once.
"Good. I have a meting in ten minutes; get someone to clean this up."
Nodding toward his ex assistant, Fisk walked briskly out of the office, his steps sending miniature shockwaves radiating across the floor.
In the end, Elektra thought it inevitable that she'd go to the roof. Some of her best and strongest memories of him resided there, memories of another lifetime. It seemed so long ago now, he, the charming but enigmatic stranger who wasn't above using his handicap to pick up strange women in a coffee shop. And Elektra herself? Was it possible she'd still held some hope back then, some small measure of faith in the world around her? Hard as it was to believe, she knew the answer was yes. Standing atop this building in Matt's arms, getting soaked to the skin, there had been nothing but hope, nothing but possibilities.
Skip ahead five years, to the last day of Matt's life. He'd told her he loved her, right before he left. For most couples it wouldn't seem like such a big deal, except that for them it was it was.
During their brief time together, Elektra had never actually told him she loved him, never spoken those all-important words. Not because she didn't feel that way, but for her own foolish reasons, reasons she'd once made a clumsy attempt at explaining. Things were good, better then they'd ever been which, in her mind, meant that they could only get worse. Speaking the words aloud would be an invitation, an invitation for a whole new set of problems to make themselves known.
Matt had understood, or at least said he did, but he'd also told her she'd go crazy if she continued to wait for the other shoe to drop. A little happiness in her life wasn't an automatic indicator of oncoming threats. Never mind the fact that Matt had died ten weeks later.
She was getting off track, an occurrence that was steadily increasing in frequency. Matt had eventually stopped giving overt declarations of love; simply because he knew it made her uncomfortable that she couldn't return them. But he'd told her he loved her on that last day, less then an hour before the murder. Had he known somehow, sensed that something was going to happen?
If he did, it doesn't matter now.
Damn that inner voice. It was true though. All that hope, those infinite possibilities were gone now. She was alone again.
The creak of the steel door coming open caught Elektra's attention, causing her to turn towards the exit. Framed by the light from the hallway, the figure that stood there was impossibly, achingly familiar.
"Matt?"
He was dressed in blue jeans, black leather jacket covering a matching black shirt. His usual sunglasses were nowhere to be found.
"Matt?" She asked again, confused as to why he hadn't moved. As well as about ten million other things she couldn't even begin to name.
This time he did step closer, reaching her in less time then it took to blink an eye. It was then that she noticed the blood.
Previously camouflaged by the dark clothing, Elektra now saw a red stain near his abdomen, a stain that was growing rapidly larger.
"Oh God."
Matt was watching her, looking directly at her, his expression unreadable as he reached down to cover the wound.
"I'm sorry."
He swayed precariously on the spot and Elektra moved to catch him. Her strength was such that she should've been able to hold him up, or at least slow his fall, but neither of those things happened. He fell to his knees, taking her down with him. His eyes filled with strange flecks of red. Blood, she realized, his eyes were filling with blood.
When she looked down again, Elektra was shocked to find a knife sticking out of his stomach. No, not a knife, a sai. Her sai.
Matt shuddered in her arms, one final, anguished breath escaping his lips before his body went limp, becoming nothing more then dead weight in her lap.
She didn't scream when she woke up. The closest Elektra got was a sharp intake of air and a slight whimper. Eyes roaming wildly, it took a moment for her brain to register her surroundings.
Couch. Living room. Dream. Just a dream, that's all it was.
Sitting up, Elektra made herself relax, waiting for her breathing to return to something approaching a normal rate. .It was during this time of forced concentration that she heard the music. Turned down to a level that was only faintly audible, the final notes of an electric guitar solo could still be heard coming from the direction of Abby's room.
Squinting at the wall clock (bought after she and Abby moved in) Elektra saw that it was close to four in the morning. Despite the hour, she was thankful for the distraction. Talking to Abby, while it had become extraordinarily difficult, still served as a way to maintain her self control, gave her something to focus on. The nightmare could wait until later, much, much, later. Feeling like a soldier headed off to war, Elektra made her way quietly down the hall. If recent experience was any indication, then the coming discussion wasn't going to be very easy.
She knocked three times before coming in. The girl's bedroom, usually kept semi-clean, now looked more like a federal disaster area then anything else. Books, clothing, shoes, and other miscellaneous items covered most of the available floor space. Abby herself lay sprawled out on the bed.
Picking her way through the mess, Elektra spied the remote for the stereo sitting on the nightstand. Abby didn't bother looking at her until she hit the off button midway through AC/DC's 'Highway To Hell.'
"I was listening to that."
"I know, just like I'm sure you know what time it is."
"Sorry," Abby responded with her usual lack of inflection.
Glancing around the room, Elektra raised an eyebrow at the large pile of empty Gatorade bottles accumulating on the dresser. "I thought you hated those things?"
Answering with a noncommittal sound from the back of her throat, Abby picked up a plush ball from the floor next to her and threw it towards the ceiling. She'd have to return it to Foggy the next time they saw each other.
"How many of those drinks did you have tonight?"
"I don't know, a lot?"
"Okay, let's try something else, why did you have so many?"
"I don't know, because they're better then strawberry flavored water?"
"You're going to crash really hard really soon, I hope you realize that."
"Oh well."
Stifling a groan of frustration, Elektra took a seat at the edge of the bed, watching the ball go up and down as Abby continued to play catch with herself. "You need to go to sleep."
"Can't, too wired."
"Well that's too bad, school's in a few hours."
There was a short, awkward pause, during which Abby stopped throwing the ball, her face contorting into what Elektra immediately recognized as her guilty look.
"What? What did you do?"
"Nothing, I just don't have school tomorrow."
Doing some quick thinking, Elektra confirmed that tomorrow was Tuesday, wasn't a holiday, and, as far as she knew, there were no conferences or teachers' conventions for at least another month.
"What do you mean you don't have school tomorrow?"
"Just what I said, it's a vacation day."
"Don't lie to me, Abby."
"I'm not…exactly."
"You want to expand on that please?"
"Not really."
"Abby."
It was her warning voice, the one that said 'spill it now or suffer my wrath,' the one that not even Abby was foolish enough to ignore.
"Okay, um, here's the thing: I really do have off tomorrow, it's just a different kind of vacation, that's all."
"And what kind of vacation is it exactly?"
"The enforced kind?"
It was said as a question, with Abby throwing the ball up once again while Elektra took in this new bit of information. When she did finally get the meaning, Elektra snatched the ball on its way down, anger and frustration flooding her system.
"You got suspended?"
"Sort of."
"Abby."
"Yeah, but it wasn't my fault. Seriously, Mr. Turndike, he's a Nazi. I think he keeps little kids in his basement and uses them for slave labor."
"Do I even want to know the reason he suspended you?"
"I skipped detention."
"He suspended you for skipping detention one time?"
"No, he suspended me for skipping detention three times."
"I see," Elektra responded tightly. "So, how was it that he ended up giving you detention in the first place?"
"Um, you know that crash you were talking about? Well, it kind of happened in his class the other day."
"And that's the only reason?"
"Well, I may have said some things that weren't entirely school appropriate, but I really did try to edit myself."
"How's that?"
"I said everything in German, but it turns out that he speaks German so… Anyway, I think he's a Nazi, probably Hitler's brother or something. He's definitely old enough for it."
"Wonderful, that's just great. Forgetting all that for a second, what's the real reason for all the sports drinks?"
"I already told you-"
"You're a terrible liar. Now please, please, help me out here. Tell me the truth. You still have the nightmares don't you? You're trying to stay awake."
Closing her eyes tightly, Abby buried her head in the pillow, making her next words muffled. "Can we save the lecture for later, just this once?"
"It's not a lecture."
"Fine, but I'm getting really tired, so would it be cool if we did this tomorrow?"
"Now you're tired all of a sudden?"
"You were the one who said I was going to crash."
Elektra paused, brow furrowed in consideration. She didn't want to let it go, but she also recognized that Abby had shut her out yet again, at least for the time being. And, hard as it was to admit, Elektra simply didn't have the energy for this tonight. She was too distracted, too exhausted, too downright drained to try and force a dialogue with Abby when the girl was fighting so hard against it.
"Okay, we'll talk in the morning, seeing as how you've got a whole day of extra time on your hands."
Before leaving the room, Elektra leaned down, pressing a light kiss onto the side of Abby's head. Taking advantage of their momentary closeness, she whispered softly into the teen's ear.
"We're going to have to deal with this sooner or later, Abbs."
In her mind, she added, I'm not going to lose both of you.
Without conscious thought, Elektra found herself in her bedroom for the first time in months. Running a hand over the covers, she climbed into what had been her side of the bed, trying not to think of how massive and empty it seemed now.
For what felt like the millionth time, she was questioning her own judgment. How long was it since she'd last seen Stick, six weeks? No, more like eight. And she hadn't taken him up on his offer, hadn't sent Abby to The Compound. Her reasons felt flimsy, even to herself, but she'd made a mistake, let Abby talk her into staying. There were men keeping watch all the time, Abby said. She didn't want to hide there for who-knew-how-long, she wanted to maintain some kind of a normal life. She didn't want to miss school. (Although that excuse certainly wasn't going to fly anymore.)
"She's afraid of losing you; afraid you'll drop her there, go after Fisk and end up getting yourself killed."
"She told you that?"
"Not in those exact words, but doesn't it make sense? She loses both her parents, she knows what happened to you, so she can't pretend you're invincible, and now Matt too. And-be honest-isn't that what you're planning? Get her somewhere safe then take off to find him?"
That conversation with Foggy at the coffee shop last week had turned out to be quite enlightening. The truth was that she couldn't leave Abby, nor could she take being at Stick's headquarters doing nothing. Or, as Matt would say, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Matt.
Sinking deeper into the mattress, Elektra slung her arm around his old pillow; tried to trick herself into believing it was the real thing. Tried to imagine him lying next to her.
"Where do you think you're going?"
She froze, amazed that careful as she was, Matt had woken anyway. Especially since she hadn't even left the bed yet.
"I need to get going."
"Now? It's…well I don't know what time it is, but its way too early for you to leave."
His arm around her tightened possessively, but for once Elektra wasn't bothered in the least.
"Dad's 'protection' will be wondering where I am."
"You're seriously telling me he thinks you need bodyguards?"
"Unfortunately, and he won't be happy if I'm not at my apartment by the time Strabros gets there."
"Was the sex that bad? Because we can work on that. Practice makes perfect you know"
He was grinning from ear to ear, and Elektra got the feeling that didn't happen very often.
"Why don't you stay, help me take a shower in a few hours?"
"Help you? After what I saw the other day, you expect me to believe that you can't shower on your own?"
It was so easy to joke with him, so easy to be with him, even though they barely knew each other.
"I never said I couldn't do it myself, I just think it would be a lot more fun with some company involved. Come on, we've got everything we need. Cable, a bed, I think there's some ice cream in the freezer. We could stay here forever if you wanted to."
"That's a heck of an offer. Are you always this forward?"
He'd laughed at that, an embarrassed chuckle that made her own smile widen. "No, no actually it's usually just the opposite."
"Well, forever's a long time, not that it wouldn't be nice."
"I'm game if you are."
So she's stayed. Not forever, not even for the whole night, but for awhile longer. Unbidden, memories of another night in bed with him flashed across her mind.
"What are you thinking about?"
"Honestly? I was thinking that sometimes I really wish you'd have taken me up on my offer."
"That was five years ago, you can't be serious."
"Come on, you can't tell me you didn't find it even the least bit tempting."
"No. Actually, I found it very tempting."
She couldn't do this, couldn't think of this without the tears coming again.
Stop. Clear your mind. Don't think. Sleep. That's all, just sleep a little.
Can't sleep, don't want to see him again. Can't watch him die again.
Clear your mind, don't think, don't think…
It was actually starting to work. She was almost there, almost to a place where the pain wasn't quite so bad. Almost free.
And then she heard the scream.