9. Remember the fine night there…

Vera felt his presence. She was well-aware that he was right next to her, close enough for her to touch him, but her body was too heavy. Her eyelids weighted at least ten pounds; she couldn't make herself open her eyes. It felt like ages had passed when she finally did.

She stared on a grey ceiling for a while before she found a way to turn her head. Capable hands were shifting around the sideboard of her bed in a funny way. She followed their lines, alongside the black sleeves and reached his pale jaw. He wore a mask, or so she thought. Everything was blurry and the room was rather dark.

Next to his head, there was something round and dark, what seemed to be hovering in the air. It looked like a balloon. It would explain the funny movement of his hands. He was tying it up.

The same moment Vera confirmed it was indeed a balloon, she knew it was a dream. A very absurd dream. In a complete hospital room with beeping machines.

A pleasant voice reached her ears. "Hey." It was such a weird salutation. Was he Irish or what?

"To je vážně balónek?" she asked incredulously. Strange feeling tickled her nose as she spoke.

The voice didn't reply. She huffed.

"Proč je tu balónek?"

He made an unidentifiable noise. "I don't understand a word you're saying."

Oh. She thought about his words, trying to decrypt them. He... he couldn't understand her. Huh. She would expect her dream guardian to know her language.

"Balloon?" she managed a question and his silhouette nodded. Good.

Jak jsi ho sem proboha dostal? she wanted to ask, but stopped herself. He wouldn't know what she was saying. She recalled the right words. "You? Rooftops?"

He lowered himself, sat down on a chair and took her hand. He still didn't wear gloves. His touch was warm, soothing. "Yeah."

She chuckled. It was a strangely tiring thing to do. But she had to laugh at the idea of the Devil of Hell's Kitchen jumping on the rooftops with a balloon. It was absolutely ridiculous.

"What the-" a female voice sounded from another end of the room, light from the door making her look an angel. The fact that Vera wouldn't be able to recognize more than her silhouette only helped her imagination.

Vera thought the woman was wearing scrubs. It seemed like it would be blue in the daylight. A nurse then. She closed the door. "You know what? I am not even asking."

Vera considered what the woman said. When it clicked into place, she smiled. She liked her dream nurse.

Matt stroked her hand.

"Okay. Okay." The nurse took few steps to her bed. "How are you feeling? How is your pain?"

Vera frowned at her, thinking. She wasn't in pain. Her body weighted over two thousand pounds at the moment, but no pain. Also, Matt was right next to her, protecting her. Everything was fine.

"Vera?" her favourite voice asked.

"Hm?" She turned her head back to him.

"How much is your pain? From one to ten?" He talked slowly, patiently. He was really gentle and he wanted her to answer. She would fulfil his wish. It took effort to translate his question and her response though.

"None."

He squeezed her hand. "You sure?"

So, so many questions. She nodded. The world spun with the movement.

The cool nurse, who didn't mind the presence of a vigilante at her bed, touched her arm – the same arm Matt was holding and Vera saw a syringe.

"I'm going to give you something that will help you sleep, okay?" she asked Vera a question again, and it was so complicated and she didn't want to think. Her guard didn't say anything and didn't remove the syringe from her, so she decided it was safe enough and hummed in agreement.

She felt a funny poke in her inner elbow and a warm feeling spread in her arm. She closed her eyes.

The nurse headed to the door judging by her footsteps.

"M-" Vera wanted to say but then stopped herself from saying something stupid. Her dream nurse was still in here. Vera wouldn't give up his name to her nurse, no matter how kind she seemed. "Mike?" she whispered instead and then she heard the door close.

"Yes?" He squeezed her hand again. It felt like an odd pressure now. She wouldn't tell him that though.

"Můžeš… můžeš mi něco vyprávět? Mám strašně ráda tvůj hlas," she admitted and he let out an unhappy sound. Frustrated.

Right. English. Her tongue was somehow tangled up. "Talk? Like… your voice."

"Of course." He was pleased now, she could tell. She tried a smile, but her lips weren't her own anymore. She couldn't control them. "What would you like to hear about?"

So many questions.

" 'dno. 'n care." Vera suspected he stroked her knuckles. She wasn't sure. And she didn't care, because he started talking and his soothing voice sounded like music and led her to another dream.

My head hurts, was her first thought. She felt like she had gotten hit by a hammer. Not that she ever had been hit by a hammer to her head before, but she imagined it would feel like this. Before opening her eyes, she took a deep breath. And oh. She was wrong. Her side hurt, not her head. Perhaps both? Her arm wasn't exactly peachy either.

Vera opened her eyes and quickly closed them again as the bright light attacked her. She squinted and looked around the room she didn't recognize. It was blurry. Everything always was without her glasses or contacts.

There was a periodic beeping on the left side of her head. She turned to its direction and saw a monitor. There were several cables leading from it and as she followed their track, she found out they were actually attached to her body. Huh. She had a cannula in her nose and there was an infusion input in her inner elbow. Her other arm hurt – she had a cast on it. Two separated casts, so she could move her elbow. Lucky her.

Vera was in a hospital and apparently needed a heart monitor. When she looked on the other side of her bed, thing that suspiciously resembled a balloon hovered in the air. The unclear memory of her dream popped in her head (Why was she still seeing the balloon? Were the drugs she was getting that good?), together with many unpleasant memories of fists, kicks and bats colliding with her body.

She had been kidnapped. She had gotten beat up. She had been tortured for information. She had been saved.

Someone knocked on her door. She realized she was the only person in her room – she had to answer.

"Come in," she creaked and a silhouette in blue with long dark hair entered and approached her. Vera could see her features better as she went closer. She cleared her throat.

"Good morning. I'm Claire, your nurse," she hesitated, "would you like me to give you your glasses? Your aunt brought them in last night… morning."

Vera thought Claire's voice sounded vaguely familiar. She probably went to MDDC for coffee. Lots of people did. Vera slowly processed the information she was given. Her aunt?

Who cares. Yes, I want my glasses. "Yeah. Yeah, that would be great."

Clare opened the nightstand next to her bed and carefully placed her glasses on her face. And hello, vision. Vera readjusted them with her right hand. She felt an unpleasant pull in her cubit; the infusion input, right.

She looked at her nurse. Claire had wavy black hair, sun-tainted skin and kind dark eyes. She smiled at Vera.

"Do you know where you are?" she asked.

Vera fought the urge to frown. What kind of question was that? It seemed tricky. "Uhm. Hospital?" she said, unsure what Claire expected her to say.

"Yeah. That would be right. You're in Metro General. Do you know the city?"

"New York City? Maybe?" Vera didn't know where the men took her, but she had been saved by the Devil, so she assumed she was still in Hell's Kitchen.

"Of course. You're in Hell's Kitchen, New York City. Can you tell me you name?" She was testing the state of consciousness, Vera realized.

"Vera. I mean. Veronika Macháčková." That would be enough questions, right? It was her turn now. "Uhm, you said something about my aunt?"

"Yes. Yes. Nina Larkin. We called her when they brought you in since she's your emergency contact." Oh. Was she? "She brought you stuff. Phone, wallet, glasses, tooth brush. She left about two hours ago. Said she needed to go to work. Wasn't happy about it though."

Vera was touched. And seriously, give that woman a medal. "She was here? After they brought me- when did they? What day is it?" she was baffled.

Claire circled her bed and took a seat. "Sorry. Should have told you. It's Wednesday, about eight a.m.. You were admitted yesterday around midnight. Several injuries, unconscious. Went straight to surgery," she explained her and Vera gasped.

It was Wednesday. They jumped her on Monday! Let's… not think about what happened.

"She's not my aunt. But she's a saint. She's my aunt's friend. No, sorry. My friend's aunt friend. Huh. I pay her my rent," she tangled in her own words.

Claire watched her, unimpressed by her babbling. "Well, she was here. How are you feeling? Are you in pain?"

Yes. A lot. "Kinda, yeah. And my throat is sore."

Claire gave her a serious face and leaned over her bed. There was a plastic cup with a straw. Vera hadn't notice it earlier. She gratefully accepted Claire's help and drank the water in one go.

"Careful," she warned her uselessly and too late. It wasn't an easy task to drink while lying on a bed. At least its upper half was slightly elevated, so she wasn't in horizontal position completely.

Claire also showed her a button for calling nurses and remote for the bed. She asked her about the amount of pain and promised her to bring something for it. Vera felt the strangest déjà-vu as the nurse left her room.

She returned in minutes, syringe in her hand. It was awfully familiar scenery and Vera started to sense something fishy. Vera eyed the balloon which was still there. It was simple, round, dark blue, get well soon. She liked it.

She had to ask. "Uhm. Can I— did Nina… Mrs. Larkin bring the balloon?"

That was it. The nurse would find out Vera was hallucinating.

But Claire looked at it too and her lips twitched in amusement. "No. Not exactly." She chuckled.

Oh my god. Oh my god.

"Oh my god." It wasn't a dream. Matt had gone to see her in his vigilante outfit, brought her a freaking balloon and oh, the things she had said. Ježišmarja. Also the nurse saw him.

Vera was brought back to reality by a touch on her hand. She blinked and looked at her nurse. She realized the heart monitor was freaking out. Well, she was.

"Hey, hey, it's okay."

Vera wanted to hide her face in her palm but she remembered her infusion. Dammit. "It wasn't a dream," she whispered, meaning it as well as a question as a statement.

"Nope. It was not. He was right here, sitting in that chair when I came in," Claire reassured her and Vera examined her expression. It wasn't anger or fear. More like disbelief.

Hold on a second.

Claire was a nurse. Claire had found a strange man, known as a vigilante, in the middle of the night in Vera's hospital room and hadn't freak out. 'You know what? I am not even asking,' was all she had said. Matt could have probably told Claire had been coming, yet, he hadn't left and hadn't uncomfortable in her presence. Almost as if they-

"You know him!" Vera accused her nurse, disbelief on her own face.

Claire smiled mysteriously and emptied the syringe in the infusion bag. "Maybe," she confessed.

"I can't believe it. What is my life now?" Vera muttered under her breath and a terrible though appeared in her mind. She was a nurse. He wouldn't go to a hospital, when injured, but he certainly needed help from time to time. If he had a nurse friend… "You're helping him. You treat him when— oh my god, did you treat his bullet wound?"

Vera's head was spinning – everything was crazy and making sense perfectly at the same time. But the spins could have been caused by the drugs, after all.

"Okay, you are awfully bright considering the amount of pain-meds and sedatives in your system," Claire declared as she put off her gloves. Vera stared at her, raising an eyebrow, waiting for another bombshell to drop. Oh, she wasn't disappointed. "Let's say Mike has an amazing ability to get into trouble. And dumpsters. And make my life difficult," Claire admitted.

Mike? Dumpsters? Making her life difficult? Vera opened her mouth and no sound came out. She had many, many questions. She started with the most puzzling one.

"Mike?" She was pretty sure Claire couldn't hear her when she said his name last night – when she had not been dreaming. Yet, she called him Mike.

Claire laughed and threw the syringe and her gloves in a bin with yellow and black label. "Oh, yeah. I named him after my ex the very first time I found him in my dumpster." Her eyes were soft, melancholic. She cared for him. A lot. Did he feel the same? Were they dating? Did she know who he was without his mask?

Nope. Do not go there.

She went there. "You know who he is?" Vera asked timidly, watching Claire's reaction.

The nurse stopped laughing, suddenly serious. "Maybe." She paused. She knew. "But I can't tell you. I know that… I know you probably think you deserve it, since they kinda took you because of him and I agree. Yet, it's not my secret to tell. I'm sorry, I can't."

Vera escaped her intense gaze, inspecting the balloon again. "You don't have to."

Claire's gasp nearly covered the knock on the door. The person didn't wait for an invitation and entered. Rude. But hey, she would forgive Sergeant Mahoney for that.

"Uhm. Hello, Miss Temple. Miss Machackova." He nodded as a greeting at both of them separately and spoke to Claire Temple, "May I have a few words with your patient?"

Claire was still astounded by Vera's revelation. "Sure. Sure, yeah, but I just gave her some pain-meds, so…"

"Oh. Well, I'll try anyway if that's okay," he offered innocently and Vera wondered who would tell no to him. The power of persuasion was obviously one of his many abilities. Handy for a cop.

Claire shot Vera what could be a warning look – tell him and I'll mix-up some of your medication, by accident naturally – and left. And ok lady, I like you, but I was tortured and I didn't give it away, thank you very much.

"May I take a seat?" he asked with politeness of his own.

Vera nodded.

"Remember me?" he wanted to make sure.

"Of course, Sergeant Mahoney." It was kinda hard to forget. He was there with Collins, both times. And he was here again. Did he ever take a day off? "What would you like to know?"

He sighed. "Everything." He looked almost guilty.

Vera sighed too and started from the beginning as he pressed the record button.

She told him about her apartment, waking up in the room with no windows. Four men of whom two she had identified as her attackers in her flat and one as Officer Collins. (His expression visibly hardened at the mention of him.) She wouldn't give him much detail about her… torture, but he wanted to know, if there was someone who had been particularly engaged in hurting her. He was not happy about the answer. Vera felt sorry for him. She shortly narrated the appearance of the Devil and arrival of the cops. She realized she didn't know at which point she had blacked out. She couldn't recall the presence of the paramedics.

He turned off the recorder. "We interrogated two of the men so far."

Vera took a wild guess that Collins wasn't one of them, because he wasn't in condition to talk, and felt a slight sting of guilt. It disappeared quickly.

She didn't understand why she was being told this.

"They told us you gave them a name."

Oh. "Yes."

"When I asked you, off the record, if you know who he is, you said you didn't. That changed?"

Yeah. No way I'm telling you.

She did not want to lie to an officer of the law though. Let alone this one. So. No lies. "The Devil never told me his name." There. No lie.

"You told them his name was Mike."

"Of course I did! I tried to make myself a useful source after a while. So they… so they didn't kill me. They threatened me to kill me. I decided to make it up. And John, you know, like John Doe, seemed too obvious." And she told them the first letter. And Max was too close.

"So he never told you? Not even a hint?"

"No. And I mean… I understand. Maybe his name is awful. Bartholomew, Valentino. Or it doesn't sound tough - something like Rio or Skipper. It would ruin his image. Or! Maybe he's Richard. I wouldn't want people to know that either. They would call me Dick all the time."

Vera was fairly certain she was high on the meds. She did not just tell him that.

The respectable officer looked like he was about to crack. He pressed his lips together and Vera wasn't sure whether he was fighting laughter or a frustrated scream. His face was hilarious though.

He took a few deep breaths through his nose and stood up. "Alright. I think we're done here." He shoved the recorder in his pocket. Vera was glad he had turned it off before she had started talking about dicks.

"Glad to hear that," she admitted. She was feeling tired. Her mind was indeed slightly clouded. Huh. Pain-meds. Magic.

"I bet. Just for you to know, you don't have to worry about your safety. There is a patrol right in front the door to your room."

Whoa. That was new. "Since when?" she asked incredulously.

"Don't sound so surprised," the cop said, apparently offended, "your safety is the top priority here. We arrested the men, but we want to make sure no one tries to get to you. We are guarding you ever since you were admitted."

And wasn't that reassuring. Matt, while carrying a freaking balloon, had managed to sneak up right in front of their noses. She felt safer already.

"Thank you, Sergeant," Vera gave him her best thanks with a polite smile, holding the laugh in her throat.

Pleased, he nodded at her and said his goodbyes. She waited a full minute before she cracked and burst out laughing.

And ouch, very, very bad idea. Her ribs. Served her right. She shouldn't have been laughing at the nice officer.

She rather tried to sleep.

Vera slept until she was rudely woken up by a doctor who came to check her over. When he was reading the list of her injuries, she shivered. It sounded awful (every time any part of her body was mentioned, she felt a jolt of pain there despite the drugs). On top of that, he said she had a concussion, broken arm and wrist, two fractured ribs and another four cracked among other things and Vera was horrified, because she remembered, crystal clear, that somehow Matt knew all of this without diagnostic tools and vision and it was spooky as hell.

Seeing her expression, the doctor reassured her that she should be making a full recovery, which yay, but this wasn't what freaked me out, sorry. Still, she was relieved that there would be no permanent damage.

When he left, she fished out her phone from the nightstand and really, everything was a pain, because her left arm was practically immobile and her right one was impaled and she didn't want to call a nurse in case she would manage to pull the input out.

She found apologetic texts from Nina for leaving (trust her she would apologize for that) and not being able to make it to the hospital today because of work. It made Vera a little sad, but she also found messages from Terri announcing she would definitely arrive right after her morning shift, so she had something to look forward.

It was a blatant lie. Terri burst into her room shortly after lunch (well, lunch, hello jello, only eatable substance), which was around half past one and there was no way she could finish her shift at the very same time she arrived.

The first thing Vera saw though was a balloon. And before she could identify the newcomer by her looks, she heard her voice.

"Veronica Fucking-trouble-magnet Machackova!" she roared as she entered the room and Vera subconsciously sat up straighter in her bed. She had been sitting since lunch; the bed remote was a small miracle.

"Hello to you too," she greeted her savage friend (oh, she loved her), "also, that's not my middle name."

Terri shot her a murderous look and huffed. "It is from now. Suits you better than Ariana." She made her way to Vera's bed, balloon wildly swaying above her head. "And who the hell gave you a balloon already?" She made a disappointed face.

What was a small lie between friends? "No idea." The beeping of the heart monitor made a funny jump. "And no, Ariana is not my middle name either."

Her friend observed the blue object tied to Vera's bed with pure hatred. She collapsed on the chair. "I know. I checked your contract in MDDC to find a blackmail material."

Terri ignored her gasp of disbelief. She rather examined her with concerned look.

"Hey. I'm okay." Vera smiled convincingly, "Well. The doctor said I'll make a full recovery. That's great right? I'll be fine."

Terri relaxed a little. "Oh, honey. You're already fine. You're so fine a blind man would see it. I'm bearing gifts." She held out a paper bag. It had an MDDC logo on it. "Of muffins and teas."

"I love you," Vera breathed out, reaching for it.

Terri winked. "I know. I love you too." She helped her to pull out the items. Then she sighed. "You scared me to death. You know that, right?"

Vera carefully shrugged. It wasn't like it was her fault. "Sorry," she said anyway.

Terri grimaced.

"I was expecting to see you on Tuesday. But you didn't come. I would think you were sick or something, but didn't even answer my calls or Mrs. Walker's for that matter. I was hoping you overslept, tried not to jump to conclusion you managed to mingle with another robbery. Nearly laughed the thought off. Mrs. Walker actually couldn't reach anyone, so she had to be at the counter. Hilarious. Except after my shift, I headed to your place – we looked up the address in your contract – and you wouldn't answer your door." Terri paled at the unpleasant memories and continued. "I was getting really worried. I remembered you mentioned Mrs. Larkin. We went to her apartment and she, bless her, didn't hesitate to use her spare key. You weren't there, Vera. And your coat was, your purse, your backpack with your fucking phone and wallet. And there was," she gulped and looked away.

"What?" Vera asked her cautiously, afraid of what got her friend so out of her mind.

"On the wall, Vera. There was a fucking smudge of blood on the wall. We called the police. No one had a single idea where you could be or why would anyone want to hurt you. I told them about the robbery. Nina, who was by the way pissed as hell when she found out about your adventure in the bank you hadn't share, couldn't tell us a thing. We talked to Michelle and Olivia. We considered calling your friend's aunt to contact your family in case you told them anything. We directed the police to Fogwell's. And," she paused and actually made a guilty face, "don't get mad. We were out of options. I told them to talk to Murdock as well."

Huh. Guess that's how he found out. Vera hadn't thought about it before, whether he knew about her disappearance or he just heard her scream. She was very, very grateful to Terri, because she probably played a huge role in her early save. Too bad she couldn't tell her that.

Vera blinked and tried to give her friend a smile. "It's alright. I get it. I can imagine he wasn't much of a help though." Except he was all the help I got. She decently sipped her tea.

"Yeah. But he was kinda worried sick."

Vera shot her a surprised look. "You talked to him?"

"Oh, yeah. I wanted to go with the police and I was very persistent. I could have gone to Fogwell's, but I had a hunch." Of course she had. Terri snapped her fingers. "It turned out that he actually was the last one who saw you. Well, was with you anyway. Are you two dating or something?"

Vera was drinking at the moment. She almost drowned herself as she used the wrong pipe – she started coughing, tears appearing in her eyes. It hurt like a bitch. Terri was agile enough to take her tea before she could burn herself and hit her back – it hurt even more, but at least Vera could breathe again. Terri's balloon was now at the ceiling.

Vera couldn't believe what she was asked. "No. We are not dating, Theresa. How did you- you know what, never mind. We're not."

The redness in her face was caused by cough and the cough only. Nothing else. And she absolutely did not think about Matt's 'maybe they just need lights to guide them home'. Or his hand and possibly his lips in her hair. And his night visit. Nope.

She needed to calm down. And she needed to change the subject.

"So." Vera cleared her throat. "Any funny stories about Mrs. Walker behind the counter?"

Terri smiled. "Yep. Except one more thing."

Vera eyed her friend suspiciously. She was honestly afraid of what was about to come. Yet it couldn't surprise her more than 'are you two dating or something'. Yeah. Or something.

Then it clicked. Vera snorted. "No Terri. It was like really dark in here. And I was kinda out of it. I did not look at his butt."

Terri glared at her, mouth hanging open. "I didn't know he was involved! He saved you again? Jeez, girl. Is he stalking you? I guess he does, but you know what? Right now I'm grateful… Also, excellent point, my dear Mechy. But." Her face was unnaturally serious. "Every single evening or night, starting the day you're discharged, you text me when you get home. No scratch that, you call me. Do you understand? I do not want to go through this again."

Vera was shocked. And touched. "Terri-"

"Do you understand?"

Vera bit her lip. "You know they jumped me in the apartment, right?"

If Terri could kill with her glare, Vera would be dead. "Yeah, I know. I saw your blood on the wall, thank you very much."

Vera blinked away her tears and nodded. "Okay. Okay. I promise I will call you. What if-"

"No what if. If I am anywhere, even if I have a date with the freaking president. Which, gross."

Vera's lips twitched. "Kay."

"Good." Terri gave her back her tea and her muffin. "Now eat. And listen. Because you never heard anything like this. Oh, also Mrs. Walker says hi, lets you know you're a crappy employee and you're not allowed to go back until you recover completely. So, the story no.1…."

Terri stayed for another two hours. She was talking about everything that came to her mind - about cute guy who came to MDDC that day (yes, she got his number), about Barbara, the new employee (Olivia no.2) and also about taking Vera shopping (What the actual hell, Machackova? NY malls! NY malls!). She was also so kind that she combed Vera's hair because they were a mess and helped her to get to the bathroom. (Vera saw her own face for the first time after the incident – she decided that blue and purple were not her colours, not when she wore them on her face.) Vera had no idea how to repay Terri; she said that getting well soon would be enough so they could attack the malls. Vera didn't argue.

Vera's cheeks were burning from the constant smiling; laugh was pretty much out of picture since ouch, ribs. She gave Terri a wave as she was leaving and relaxed into the backrest with her eyes closed.

Loud burst of laughter caught her off guard. It was Terri. She could hear her roaring with laughter from the hall.

Her head appeared in Vera's door again, wide grin on her face. "Remember my words, darling. Remember what I told you about being-" she paused, "you know. Okay." And then she was gone.

Vera had no idea what was so funny and what was going on.

There was a knock on her door. "Come in!" she called out cautiously. Here comes the punchline.

A person came in with tapping. Oh. Of course. 'You're so fine a blind man would see it.' Hilarious, Terri.

"Matt! Hey!" she greeted him, not even bothering to cover her delight.

He turned his head in her direction as if he didn't know where exactly she was already and smiled. "Hey."

The second déjà-vu hit her that day. His voice wasn't so rough though. She liked it the same. He carefully crossed the room, cane in one hand and— and flowers in the other. She did not see that coming. The beeping of her heart monitor jumped again. Well, this is embarrassing.

"Uhm. The chair is on the distant side of the bed if you wanna like to sit? It's about two more steps to my bed the direction you're walking, then two steps square left, three square right and another four square right." She felt like an idiot. She had never given directions to blind person. And he probably knew the layout at least approximately so he could actually know if she was a crappy navigator, and she shouldn't know that and damn, it was a mess. "Sorry. I'm not good at this."

His smile widened. "You're doing great, thanks."

Matt closely followed her directions, counting his steps carefully, taking sharps turns - it looked ridiculous. He felt the chair and sat, cane leaning against the bedframe, flowers in his lap. He beckoned to them.

"I… uhm… I wanted to bring you something, but I can't exactly see what flowers I'm buying. They smelled nice so I really hope the florist wasn't lying and they are at least presentable." He seemed a little uneasy. No smiling anymore.

Vera sighed. "They are beautiful, Matt." They were. Orange lilies. "Thank you. I love lilies."

He tilted his head as if he was waiting for something – it was just a few seconds and then the corners of his lips turned up. And suddenly Vera identified what he was listening to, all the time. It was her heart. There was no funny leap in the beeping of the machine like when she had lied to Terri about the balloon from Matt. Her heart jumped every time she said a lie. And wasn't that fantastic.

Of course, now her heart raced for a different reason. Matt could somehowhear people's heartbeats and every time he had done something that had made her pulse pick up, he had heard it. She had no words.

Matt was frowning now.

"Sorry. Sorry, just realized something. Thank you." She scanned the room for a vase and couldn't find any. She would have to ask for it. "There is no vase. May I?" She asked and gestured towards the flowers and dammit, she shouldn't know he would sense it. Ups. "The lilies?"

"Oh. Sure." He held them out and Vera took them. Freaking infusion input! She smelled them and they did smell nice indeed. And nope, there was not an idiotic grin on her face.

They fell in silence. Something was hanging in the air and Vera wasn't sure what was it and how to grasp it. It made her felt uneasy. She hesitantly looked up at Matt and was welcomed by his glasses instead of his eyes. It didn't grow on her. She still hated the dark red evil instrument.

"Matt?" she had no idea how to ask him to put them off. She licked her lips, trying to figure it out.

"Hm?"

She smiled for herself when she found the right words. "I am like… super-honoured that Mr. Murdock paid me a visit, but… would you mind taking your glasses off? So Matt would come instead?"

His eyebrows shot up. "Super-honoured, huh?" He reached for his glasses though. Bright brown eyes observed her chin from that moment. There. Much better.

"Thanks. I can put mine off too if it makes you feel better. I mean, your face would be kind of blurry," and that would be a shame, shame, shame "but…"

"You're wearing glasses?" he asked and seemed genuinely astounded.

Huh. Guess he couldn't sense everything after all. Good to know.

"Yeah. Since childhood. Runs in the family," she grimaced, "always the weird kid who needed glasses since she was like, three years old." And it was stupid telling something like this to him, since he was blind. "And I mostly wear contacts, now. But I don't need to tell you that. Sorry. Sure you have your own traumatic experiences. Worse ones. Uhm…"

Dumb, dumb, dumb.

He gave her a crook smile. "Yeah. Kinda. Still, you are full of surprises."

"You have no idea," she muttered under her breath, then she realized he could hear her. That wasn't awkward at all. "Terri, my friend, she changed my middle name."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Apparently now I am Veronica Fucking-trouble-magnet Machackova."

He didn't laugh. If anything, his eyes hardened. Yet another not so smart move. "The vigilante is a trouble magnet, you are a vigilante magnet, apparently."

Unfair. It wasn't like it was his fault they had come to some ridiculous conclusions. Including the one that she was possibly his girl toy. Ew. Not that she would mind if… it was just the words - girl toy. Besides, he couldn't know that the kidnapping was about the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. As in Matt couldn't know, obviously.

"Nah. I'm pretty sure the troubles came first and he just keeps saving my sorry ass," she offered, keeping her tone light. He sighed, but didn't say anything. He was lost in thoughts. Brooding. "How do you even know it was about him?" she asked, curious about his excuse.

He squirmed, obviously uncomfortable. "I might have asked Brett to keep me updated."

That caught her absolutely off guard. Her eyebrows shot up. "Really? I mean… Brett, as in Sergeant Mahoney?" Were they friends? Was sgt. Mahoney friends with the vigilante without knowing so? Because that would be hilarious.

Matt shrugged. "He's friends with Foggy, my law partner. When the officers walked in with your friend, who is very intimidating by the way, they gave us a small heart attack. They asked about you. Told us you were missing. So later I asked Brett if he would let us know."

"Huh." He was probably telling the truth. Interesting. "Wait, what do you mean my friend is intimidating?"

He relaxed and laughed. "I think the cops were afraid of her too. They were totally under her thumb. Also, she's very protective of you." Content smile played on his lips.

"Yeah, I guess that's one way to put it. I'm lucky to have her."

"I am sure it goes both ways." There was his burning gaze again. Vera's heart would jumped out of her chest if could.

Change the subject, change the subject!

"Wanna know my middle name?" she asked him again and he raised an eyebrow.

"Sure."

"Ariana. Or at least it would be, according to Terri, if I actually had one, you know."

He considered her words. "It suits you."

"Thanks. I kinda like it," she admitted and hesitated. "You have one?" She didn't want to query. But she was curious about it. About him.

"I do." He bit his lip, hesitating, like he was ashamed of it. If his middle name was Richard, Skipper or Bartholomew, Vera would slap herself.

"Hey, you don't… you don't have to tell me." It was Richard. She was sure of it now.

"It's Michael. My whole name is Matthew Michael."

And it was Vera's turn to bit her lip, before she could blurt out something unwise.

No way. Michael. Freaking Michael. Mike. She actually named him after his middle name (and Claire too). What were the odds? Vera could see now why he didn't want to tell her. She had no idea how to react without giving herself away.

"I like it." That wasn't a lie, at least. "Isn't that a name of an archangel? The man who is like god?" Babbling. Babbling is her secret weapon. Aside from her pepper spray.

And she had to stop watching TV shows.

Matthew Michael seemed absolutely baffled. He opened his mouth and closed it again, no sound coming out. She would swear there was a little blush on his cheeks. He was an equivalent of cuteness. She could kiss him right now. Except she couldn't.

"Never mind. I just like it."

He mumbled something, but she couldn't understand it.

"Foggy. Foggy. Foggy." Mechanical voice cut the air and Vera jumped. Matt did as well.

"Sorry." He shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out a phone. Vera never thought about blind people using their phones. It made sense it would tell them who the caller was instead of a ringtone. She wondered if the same voice read their texts.

"Foggy. Fog-"

"Yes? Sorry, Foggy, I can't really talk right now."

Vera turned away in attempt to leave him at least some privacy, which was a completely useless gesture.

There was silence and then "No, it's not ab— shut up. I'll call you back," and the call was over.

Vera didn't know what was that about, but Matt Murdock delivering shut up line to his friend was now one of her favourite things. In addition, the hint of blushing on Matt's cheeks got more intense.

"I'm sorry. I gotta go," he said, face not very happy.

"It's alright. I'm glad you came. Thank you. And thank you for the flowers too."

He gave her a quick smile, put his glasses on (and she did not sigh at the lost) and stood up. He made his way to the door, cane tapping again. He was reaching for the doorknob when he stopped as if he remembered something.

He turned around to ask her a question. "What was the thing your friend said? About being okay?"

Vera hated that the beeping gave away her distress. "Oh, nothing. Just an inside joke, really. A girl thing. No offence," she was lying through her teeth and the monitor sounds were so irregular she wanted to punch it.

He hummed, questioning her answer. "If you say so." And he walked out of the door.

Vera thought she saw his amused smile right before he disappeared. And if he somehow heard that part of their conversation, she was going to actually murder Terri this time.

-.-.-.-.-.-

So much Czech…
"To je vážně balónek?" – "Is that a balloon?"
"Proč je tu balónek?" – "Why is there a balloon?
Jak jsi ho sem proboha dostal? – How the hell did you get it in here?
"Můžeš… můžeš mi něco vyprávět? Mám strašně ráda tvůj hlas." – "Could… could you just talk - about anything? I really like you voice."