I've kept you waiting for a very long time, so get ready for a longgggg convo between our heroes!
Riley
Matt stood on the fire escape, threatening like an amorphous black figure. His back was rising and falling in that way he did when he was trying to keep his feelings in check.
She swallowed; "Come in." Opening the window wider, he stepped inside but remained close to the window, he didn't appear as topped up with rage as he was earlier, but his mouth was lined and grim. Riley leaned on the back of her couch. Feeling exposed with nothing but a t-shirt on, she self-conciously curled a strand of hair behind her ear and hugged herself. She wanted to do this alone, face her decision or almost-decision on her own without his judgment.
But he was going to take her suffering and make it worse by ten-fold.
"What happened out there?" He had better control of his fury, but she could tell from experience that it would only take a few strikes for it to burst from him like a geyser.
"You know what happened," Riley said finding her voice, after fearing she had lost it at the warehouse amidst the gunfire and dark choices; "I wanted to kill him." She owned up to it unashamed.
He could tell she wasn't and his lips twisted; "It's a damn good thing I stopped you."
"I never pressed the trigger," she felt like she needed to remind him, her own anger rose like a hot air balloon. What did he expect to achieve from giving her a scolding?
"You might have if I didn't hear you pull the gun in the first place, if I hadn't been there," he barked back.
"And if I did?" She threw at him. "It was Roscoe Sweeney, he killed your father, he threatened my brother— he's done terrible things-"
"That is not a justifiable reason!" He started to yell, and then closed a fist at his mouth to stop himself, he regained control again, finding a moment to steady his breath. "You don't get to be judge, jury and executioner, didn't they teach you anything at the academy?" He admonished with and a slight shake of his head. Matt pulled his mask off, his messy brown hair stuck out at odd ends and his countenance was etched in deep concern and even a dash of hurt. "This isn't you. What's going on? And don't you dare lie to me."
Her eyes drifted to the floor. Riley didn't know why she felt guilty for hiding it from him; somehow he still brought that emotion up in her when it was uninvited.
"He wants to kill me."
"What?" Matt most definitely did not expect to hear that.
She licked her lips then glanced back at him, able to lodge each sentences out of her thick throat; "I killed Rob Sweeney, he was Roscoe Sweeney's brother. Sweeney's put a bounty on my head. 200,000. He wants me dead."
His jaw hit the ground. She wished he kept his mask on, another barrier to strengthen her resolve but without it all of his emotions were laid out and that only coaxed her own to surface too.
"How could you keep this from me?" He asked, incredulous.
Riley glared; "You're really asking me that?" She snapped, he winced at her razor sharp reply. She glanced away again, diffident with her realisation she was being too harsh. The whole week had been dismal and every little thing was starting to infuriate her as she continued to be useless against the bigger threat. Perhaps that was why she was picked the rifle up in the first place- her desperation and impatience-a quick fix to a huge problem.
He started to pace in front of her. "Has anyone tried anything?"
"No one's attempted anything yet, but they could. Tommy's gone at least, I told him to get the hell out of here."
"You didn't go with him?"
"No," she lifted her head to him and held a cautionary finger up, "and if you're going to tell me that I'm making a huge mistake, endangering my life by staying; I've already heard this lecture from Alfie and my brother I don't—"
"I'm not going too," he interrupted, direct and sure of himself, shutting her up. "I know you, you wouldn't run. You can never leave as long as threat is here. It's what I would do." The corner of his mouth turned up imperceptibly, a flash of camaraderie and the old banter they had months ago when things were not as complicated.
Riley was prepared to launch into a difficult argument with Matt about how she was going to stay put and hell would freeze over before she left New York. He couldn't tell her what to do; she couldn't trust him etc, the usual rodeo.
…But he didn't grant her that, and she was completely inept at handling this new sympathetic shift in his tone. "You're on his list too. But he wants to kill me more than you for a change, I've never been first on anyone's list," she snorted derisively, her default of morbid humor coming to play;
"Killing him wouldn't have solved anything," he replied, with a level tone returning to the conflicting, and serious matter at hand.
"How do you know that?" She challenged. Sweeney was their leader, their brain. Cut off the head of the snake. It was how she rationalized it at the time.
"Because you would've regretted it," he tersely reprimanded, unhappy with her remark, but not as angrily as a minute ago.
Again with his righteous Catholic bullshit. "This isn't about me," she retorted, slapping her own chest, "it was about getting rid of him. It's about getting my life back."
"I want him to pay as much as you do! He took my father away from me, I know he did. But this isn't the way," he said indignantly, rearing up to her. "You're not any better than him if you kill him."
"Go on, hate me all you want. It doesn't make a difference," she said with a mirthless grin, and raised her voice. "I know what I did, what I tried to do. It doesn't matter," she gestured at him roughly as she went off on a rant; "we're standing here arguing about morality but its pointless! No one out there is playing by the rules, Murdock. You aren't, Sweeney isn't, the Punisher definitely isn't. Anything we do, we're back to square one. Nothing we did tonight changed anything! My brother is gone, I told him he could come home that-that he could be safe, but I couldn't keep that promise. He begged me to let him stay but I couldn't let him. I told him I would find a way, but I haven't, I still have an axe hanging over my head-"
"Knight, I-"
She caught her breath, and talked on as if he wasn't going to reply; "I know it's selfish and reckless and might ruin me forever, but if this was the only way for me to keep my promises, if I could get rid of someone who wants me dead just as much as I want him to be, then so be it; I'd have no regrets. I'll take the scorn and blame from you, from anyone, I would do it, if it means I can finally stop him from threatening me and my family and this city. I've had enough."
By the time she was done shouting, her throat felt raw. Despite it, she was trembling as the reality of what she crashed down on her, as the hopelessness of her predicament started to settle into her bones. Her cheeks heated up at her emotional outburst. She turned from him to hide herself, but it was futile.
Riley heard him take a deep breathe in, she peered at him, he gnashed his teeth together, closed his eyes, and then calmly pressed his lips together; "I get it, Knight. I do. He's named you, he knows who you are. It's personal now."
She was too exhausted to speak any further. "It's always been personal Matt," Riley said quietly and let out a tired sigh, she plopped down on her couch. He opened his mouth to say something but she stopped him. "I can't do this right now, you should just leave," she clutched her head, it was pounding. There was years of clutter in there that reappeared out of thin air and she didn't know how to get rid of it.
He threaded his fingers through his hair in frustration. But he stubbornly refused to budge; "No," he announced bluntly, his mind decided, "I'm not leaving until we deal with this."
"We?" She guffawed, and took her head out of her hands to grimace at him. "It's my fault okay? This is my burden to deal with. I killed Rob. It was me. I've accepted the responsibility."
"I killed him too," said Matt firmly, coming over to sit down on couch next to her. "I pushed that hammer to you. We're both at fault. You don't need to deal with it on your own, you could've-" he paused, swallowed, "-spoken to me, about it, I was there too, remember?" He asked, trying to be light, but failing. "I know we didn't end on the right foot, but- if it was really bothering you, I wouldn't have-I guess what I'm trying to say is-"
"It's not the same," she said softly, interrupting him as he rambled. Riley watched his countenance for the entire time he spoke, focused on his eyes that were dark but reflected the gleam from the streetlight. "You wouldn't understand, unless it was you." His empathy was unforeseen. She couldn't help it if her heart clenched a little, touched at the effort he was making. But he wasn't the one who swung the hammer, he didn't have to feel another's human's lifeblood pour out of him. "And besides, I definitely did not want to talk to you about anything after I figured out your secret."
Matt's shoulders heaved; "Yeah. You're right. I wouldn't understand, I still don't," he said, with a thoughtful, somber look on his face.
"Normally I like hearing people say that I'm right, but not this time," said Riley, with a dejected smile.
"It feels like a year ago when I first met you," he said, nostalgically. "I thought we could make this city better together, I truly did. I never intended for this to end with you having a target on your back," said Matt. "It's not fair."
"Tommy said the same thing to me. I was the one who was terrorised and I still am. It's like a nightmare that doesn't stop even when you're awake." She bit her lip as something occurred to her. How would my brother react if he knew what I nearly did tonight? But she did know. He would react like Matt did. "It...It doesn't matter," she shook her head and shrugged. "Someone is always trying to kill a cop one way or another. It's part of the job. I should've seen this coming. It's not something I've ever had to deal with, but the team and I are working together." She was relentlessly trying to be offhand and official to deflect from the vomiting out any true feelings like she did just now. "Fitz and everyone else are committed to it, and we want to get Sweeney, for good."
Matt was close enough for her to see the strand of hair that hung lazily over his forehead and the shadow of his shave. She'd never seen how expressive his eyes could be, they were as hard as steel then;
"We need a plan."
Of course that's what his head jumps too. Never a moment of respite for Daredevil. Riley hugged herself once more, feeling the chill from the cool night air whistle into her living room. She snorted; "I had a feeling you would say that. What are you going to do that I haven't already done? Even you don't have a clue what we're supposed to do next, unless by some miracle you do?"
He sighed, his brows creased. She stared at him for a long moment, waiting, naively hoping he had the magical solution they both needed. He didn't have an answer.
"You don't," she said in conclusion. "I thought so."
He throat moved prominently as he swallowed, he sounded defeated; "I'm sorry."
"Not exactly what I wanted to hear."
Riley was just as disappointed as he was. Except she didn't know what exactly he had to be sorry for, she'd gotten the whole apology for lying about being Daredevil weeks ago. It was the reason she despised him. But a sorry from him wasn't even needed anymore.
It occurred to her, for the first time in a long time, Matt wasn't her enemy here, not in this instant. He wasn't the one offering a monetary reward to see her head leave her body. He wasn't hunting her down, he wouldn't harm her brother. They were not partners, had not been for ages. He didn't owe her anything anymore. They went their separate paths as best they could. She did not ask to be saved. Matt let the Punisher go in order to stop her from shooting Sweeney. They lost two enemies, and for what purpose?
To save my soul? Somehow to him, it's still worth saving? For some obscure reason-it matters?
God, he is a puzzle to figure out.
"Why are you apologizing?" She questioned, her voice was just above a whisper, she watched him intently, as she struggled to understand his jumbled motives. "Why are you still here?"
"I know you blame yourself, but I still feel responsible." He worked his lips together as he tried to find an explanation; "I suppose... I'm here because I needed to understand what happened, why you tried to kill him. And overall, I didn't want you to go down that path," he mimicked the softness in her tone.
"You're forgetting I already have."
"It was self-defense," he argued, getting lit again when she started to be hard on herself. "You have to understand that. What else could you have done?"
She snickered at the irony of it; "Yeah 'self-defense', except men like Sweeney call it murder."
"I know you're scared."
"Did you get that by examining my heartbeat and breath?" She said a little too curtly. It was a reflex reaction. Since she was a teenager she always despised when people said she was afraid. Indeed, she was a scared little girl once, but she learnt the hard way she needed to be strong, even if she had to fake it until she believed it herself. She dared anyone to tell her she wasn't capable of taking care of herself, of facing her fears, and she would prove them wrong.
She thought Matt might get up and leave; tell her she was a hopeless cause, and there could never be a conversation with her that did not end in an shouting match. He was persistent however and angled himself to her, "No, I can tell from the way your hands are shaking," he pointed at them.
Looking down at them, he was right.
"You're not a cold-blooded killer," he said, leaning forward on his knees.
Finally, Riley put that notion out in the universe. The self-doubt, the fear, and the anger conforming together in one truth she had been too scared to say out loud; "Maybe I am."
"No. You're not," he insisted vehemently, believing in what he said with every ounce of his being. "What you did that night, doesn't define who you are."
Riley was angry enough to punch through a wall, miserable enough to wallow in tears. The weeks of anxiety she built avoiding going to Father Lathom flowed out; "do you what its like to be a woman in this field?" She asked him, seemingly off topic. He stayed quiet and listened. There was no turning back to whatever armor she wore, it was total honesty from then on, with him and with herself. "It's hard; you're smart enough to fill in the details." Tokenism, sexism, endless bias was constantly pressing on her in every direction on a daily basis. She could fill pages and pages on the subject. "You're aware that anyone, anyone has the capability of killing you with their bare hands. Well, if I let them," she added with a dark smirk.
"And then assholes like Roscoe Sweeney think I deserve to die because I was protecting myself?" She felt the same heat in her chest and force in her hands that led her to pick up the assault rifle in the first place; "I was full of rage, and I wanted to hurt him for it. I wanted him to suffer; because he doesn't deserve to be alive, I-I felt that… in my heart," she rubbed her hand over where it was, feeling it beat rapidly against her palm. "It was too easy to cross that line."
"Then be happy you didn't cross it," Matt said. "You think I've never felt the way you have? I've had to hold back on a punch because it could've broken someone's spine. Once, there was father who was abusing his daughter, I heard it happen," he told her, a quaver to his voice. "I beat him up, warned him never to touch her again. I nearly killed him that night. I wanted too. I know, how hard it is to resist the urge," he nodded earnestly. "You're not the only one."
She let out a shaky breath, she glanced at her hands and they weren't trembling anymore.
"But you're allowed to be scared Riley. I'm afraid too," he admitted, with a little pained, broken smile that stirred something in her chest. "I'm afraid that Sweeney will win, that they'll win. I'm afraid the next time I leave my home at night in this suit will be my last. I'm afraid of losing people. Fear is always going to be there, but it matters how you deal with it, how you overcome it. It matters that you're true to yourself even after all of our enemies are gone."
Matt took her elbow, light and sure, the sudden pressure and warmth of it alarming her. His green eyes, intense. "You're so much more than what you give yourself credit for." This statement was not a scold, or a yell about her almost-mistake. It was iron-clad certainty. It told her that whatever judgement he had of her, before this, remained, unshaken, unchanged, he still held her in a higher regard than what she reduced herself to be.
He was so close she could feel his breath ghosting over the hallow of her neck. She did not miss that he said 'our enemies.' He was determined to underscore that she wasn't alone in this. But she didn't deserve it. She wiped her eyes, feeling them get wet. Her chest heaved as if a brick had been lifted of it. Not to her brother, nor to Alfie would she ever admit to be being afraid. But Matt was right, she was allowed to be. She didn't need to say it out loud, nor did he prod any further because he already understood.
And she was grateful for that.
"I'm just sick of it," she said, her throat thick. "The fighting. It's all I've been doing the past few months. I wake up and sleep as if I'm in a war zone every single day. I'm tired of it. Aren't you?"
"Yeah." He let out a humorless laugh as he thought about it, a hint of a smile left behind that became sad. "But I can't stop. I don't even know who I'd be if I wasn't doing this." It seemed like defeat, but it was just him accepting everything and all that he was, embracing it, knowing full and well that it fucked up his life multiple times, but he continued with the torture despite it.
Riley stared at him. I gave him so much crap for trying to do the right thing. If he wasn't blind then maybe he could have been a cop like her, he wouldn't have to hide in a costume in the dead of the night. But God dealt him this card, and there's no such thing as blind detectives. He wants to help people. He tries to make it work to his favor, no matter how crazy it is.
"I don't think Foggy would like it if he heard you say that," she said, attempting levity, moving her elbow out of his hold, though she still felt the remnants of its touch on her skin.
He chuckled lightly; they fell into a companionable silence for a moment. "Riley… I'm sorry I wasn't a better friend. I let you down," said Matt, with genuine regret.
"I'm sorry too," it was easy to say, she thought to share something she should have shared with him weeks ago, but did not because of the instability between them. "There was a firefighter the night of the fire. I thought he would rat us out, but he didn't. He watched out for the perimeter as I drove you back to your apartment. You saved his niece. He told me you were worth saving too, that's why I did it."
He blinked his surprise, "I'm lucky he was there, I'm lucky you were there," said Matt. "You're a good cop Riley, and a good person. Don't sacrifice who you are to fight an enemy. Never."
"I'm glad you stopped me." But not only for that, he made her feel glad to be Riley Knight. She was no assassin, she was not the Punisher; she was a police officer, a detective. It was humbling. She had no special ninja skills, or some fancy tech suit, she wasn't a science experiment with superhuman powers.
She took a vow, and if she killed someone in cold blood, then that vow became null and void. Words don't mean much if you can't stick by them.
He gave an acknowledging nod and then stated; "I can protect you."
She closed her eyes, mildly annoyed, this was what she wanted to avoid; "I don't need you to protect me—"
"I'm not asking for permission," he commanded over her. "Sweeney's still alive." He didn't take her elbow, this time he took her hand that was on her knee in both of his. She swallowed, startled eyes darting down and up. For someone who throws people off buildings and can break an arm with a single brutal twist he was very gentle.
"We have to try to work together; we have to trust each other."
"Despite all the shit we've done and said to each other?" She said with a joking scoff. But he was done with jokes. She looked at their twined hands on her knee.
"Yes. Despite that," he replied. "But I think we've made amends, haven't we?" His hand tightened a bit.
"Yeah we have. But it's not going to happen overnight," she had to point out. They still had vast differences in their methods of carrying out justice.
"I know," he said, and squeezed twice as tight, that made her look at him head on, watching intently. "But I'm not going to let him ruin more lives. And I certainly am not going to let him kill you."
She knew he wouldn't, she knew she could trust him. "Okay," she agreed, never moving her gaze from him. "Thank you, Matt."
"You don't have to thank me Riley."
She looked down at their hands again, her pulse was racing just where his thumb rested over the veins of her wrist. She extricated it from him and kept it in her lap, neither of them speaking, but a palpable tension in the air. They'd said a lot to each other in a short span of time, she didn't know what to make of it yet. Riley stood, crossing her arms, "I should get some sleep, it's been a long day."
Matt followed suit, looking flustered. "Yeah, you should, I should go." His feet lingered for a moment, his mask in his grip ready to pull it back on.
Out of character for someone as private as her, Riley took that moment to give him a hug. It was out of impulse, and she was 100% certain it would be awkward as hell. It was meant to be brief; a grab of both his shoulders to pull him to her, something she would give Alfie on the rare occasion.
He was a bit taken aback at first, but tentatively, he returned it, pressing a hand between her shoulders blades, the one that slid onto her waist was warm as it wrapped around her. Riley circled her arms around him fully and he did the same, he rubbed her back in small circles soothingly, and she buried her face into the crook of his neck, taking in his scent. She was on her tip-toes, he inhaled deeply, his cheek rested on her hair. His chest moved with hers as it was pressed against his, no sliver of space between them, he was as hot as furnace.
If I don't let go now, then I won't want him to leave. Riley got a hold of her wits; "Stay safe," she whispered into his ear and loosened her hold. You're tired, you unloaded a ton of baggage to him, and you're grateful for his support. That's it. They pulled away, the chill replacing him. There was a conflicted furrow to his brow as he put his mask back on quickly. He said goodbye and climbed out the window. Leaving her with a few doubts creeping in her head.
...
She rushed back to work after running errands as it neared the time to punch out. The events at the warehouse were a few days ago; the almost-kill, the talk with Matt, the too-close hug, was overshadowed by the business of the working day as they threw the weight of their task force into both finding the drugs in Hell's Kitchen and locating Roscoe Sweeney. They weren't a very large force, so Fitz was asking a lot of them, stretching them thin, and her and her colleagues were in a perpetual state of tiredness every morning, but it had to be done. When she wasn't distracted however, dark thoughts inched back into her mind whenever she was idle.
She took the encounter with Matt in her apartment as her being an emotional needy mess, something she never ever wanted to embody again, thank you very much. I told him stuff I've never told anyone, I said I was scared, I almost cried, I hugged him, I even thought about-
"Stop it," she whispered to herself, and shook her head roughly to remove herself from being stuck in the memory.
On an hourly basis she was more than happy there was another task given to her by Fitz as soon as the current one was complete to keep herself occupied. When she walked into the room, Leo, Malek and Croftsky were getting up from their desks. "You missed the debriefing," said Malek, shrugging on her leather jacket.
Riley scanned the office to see where Fitz was, but he must have left for the day. "Took the long way to get here and ran two red lights. Can't be too careful." She was always retracing her steps and looking over her shoulder these days. Matt's assurances to protect her didn't do much to stop her concern.
Naturally, Croftsky found a way to flip the situation she was in to become all about him, his sneering face got in her path. "Thanks to whatever you did, this entire unit is under scrutiny from Roscoe Sweeney."
She gave him a dirty look, "why the heck are you whining, Croftsky? Am I the one with the bounty on my head or you?" He threw her a scowl and then huffed off to the locker room.
"It's been a week. You don't seem that phased," said Leo walking over to her.
It was easy to lie; after all she had been undercover for months before, she considered herself a good actor. "What is there to be phased about?" She remarked with an offhanded shrug, pretending to be a lot more casual and fearless about being on a hit list than she actually was.
"That's my girl," Malek gave her a friendly fist bump to the shoulder.
"We're going for drinks at McCilwaine's, wanna join?" Leo asked.
Her look went to the direction Croftsky left in. She wasn't in the mood to hang out with the less unsavory members of her unit. Seeing where her gaze went, Leo titled his in the same direction; "Don't worry about him, he has a date tonight."
Someone as unpleasant as him get's a goddamn date, and I don't? But then she thought; who would want to go on a date with me? She would only find a way to wreck it somehow or worse, get him killed.
"You're joking," she blurted, in utter disbelief. "He's on a date? Dave Croftsky? The same guy who sits over there," she nudged her chin at his desk.
Malek laughed and circled her arm through Riley's. "Come with us. Day seven of being on a Kill list and you're still breathing, that's something to celebrate." Hardly anything fantastic to celebrate, but Riley entertained them anyway.
Leo snorted; "maybe they have orange juice and bendy straws for your drink."
Malek smacked Leo's arm so Riley didn't have too.
..
The last time she set foot in this bar, her brother was still in the hospital after being hit by a car and he was being threatened by mafiosos. She was with Alfie, she was blissfully unaware Matt Murdock was Daredevil. Things were looking promising for her career.
It was funny to think how it all went down the drain shockingly fast.
Riley invited Gale, her nurse friend from Metro General, to join them.
The second Gale walked in, heads in the bar started to turn. Gale was the exact opposite of her; she could dress well (Riley wore t-shirts on a regularly basis), she looked great in every color (Riley preferred black or grey) she was charming, always smiling, with Disney princess laugh that wasn't fake, but infectious. And she had the blessed capacity to care for people on entirely different level from her. Gale bandaged up the good and the bad ones when Riley would've chosen to throw the latter in a cell, broken bones and all.
"Now tell me, who convinced her to actually leave her apartment? Because I've been trying to do that for months," Gale said, squeezing her shoulder playfully.
"It was me," Malek raised her hand.
Riley rolled her eyes; "Oh ha. Ha."
"I've missed you," her friend hugged her. She could not remember the last time she hugged a friend as tightly as she hugged Gale then. But then her mind returned to Matt that night, and she corrected and smacked herself internally.
But it was good to see Gale. Her life revolved around protecting Tommy for the past few months, she forgot there were other people in her life that cared about her. "When was the last time you did anything normal for a change?" Gale asked with a soft but worried smile.
"I don't remember," she replied with a lighthearted sigh, brushing it off to be entirely work related, when it wasn't. It just wasn't her life anymore; nothing was as simple as it used to be. It wasn't like she didn't see her share of tragedy, violence, murder and human depravity before. Riley put away a lot of bad people. But with the events of the past few months coming into play, she wasn't holding herself up as best as she could.
Dark corners, was what Karen Page said to Foggy. When you see too much of the bad you forget the good. Who in her circle of friends could actually relate to everything she had been through? Everything she had done? Tried to do? What would Gale think if she knew I wanted to kill someone? Purely out of vindictive reasons? It was an colossal effort for Riley to forgive herself for what she did, how would anyone else forgive her? She didn't think Matt entirely did, no matter what he said.
And yet...she wanted him too, she wanted to believe he did mean it.
She wanted nothing to do with him when she found out his secret, but he ends up being the only person who can understand her, the only person she doesn't have to put on a brave face or fake smile in front of. Someone as messed up, possibly borderline psychotic and unstable as Matt Murdock was the only person on the entire planet that knew every detail about her current life. The only person she was genuine with.
For someone who thought she always had a decent group of good friends she could rely on, confide in; it sucked.
Therefore as she sat with Gale in their go-to bar, drinking, chatting, laughing, Riley just wanted to cherish the moment of normalcy, even if it was just for one night. Riley was tired, and she desperately missed how carefree she could be this time last year.
"First you said it was impossible to date, then it became too impossible for you to go out?" Gale went on, tisking; "No, no, we can't have that, we have to draw a line somewhere."
They talked some more and Riley could see over Gale's shoulder that Leo was eyeing her nurse friend. She rolled her eyes, Gale saw that and smiled, bemused, "wait, what is it?"
"I think you've caught someone's eye."
"Oh really? Who?" She strained her neck to see who it was, and Riley tried to stop her, knowing she would get second hand embarrassment if her fellow detective tried any moves on Gale tonight. Leo was a good detective, but he was such a moron sometimes without intentionally trying to be one.
But as her hand met her shoulder, the entrance to the bar burst forth. For a split second it didn't look like anything out of the ordinary, it was Friday, the night was young, and people were getting drunk in every bar in town doing stupid things, as usual.
Until the man drew a gun and pointed it in her direction.
"Get down!"
Shots fired. Riley barely reached out for Gale in time. They were on the floor, chairs falling around them. People were screaming, shouting, crying, more bullets were going off. Glass and alcohol sprayed over her. Her hand went to her weapon, until she met Gale's eyes as she lied on the floor.
There was a bullet in her neck.
Riley's forgot about the attacker, she forgot the rest of the bar, the city, forgot that the world existed.
Gale coughed, her blood was pouring out fast and bright red. Riley clamped her hands over around her neck with a vice grip to hasten the bleeding. There was no time to be afraid or to panic she had to ensure Gale survived long enough for real help to arrive.
"It's going to okay…" she told her, she has to be okay, she can't die, this can't happen again, not again, not again. There was a cry choking her but she kept her 's hands were hot and red and wet with blood. There was terror and pain glimmering in Gale's brown eyes as they blinked slowly at nothing in particular.
"An ambulance is on its way!"
Riley looked up briefly to see Malek hovering over them, disgruntled, concerned, gun hanging in her grasp. Leo joined her and they were both rapidly speaking to her, something about a get away car, something about what was going on in the rest of the bar. Whatever they said meshed into inconsequential white noise. She looked down at Gale again, the blood out of her jugular staining her blonde hair as she made soft sounds of agony.
They were here for me.
Her friend was dying in her arms.
And it was all her fault.
..
The tap water was ice cold as it flowed out of the tap and onto her hands. They were shaking violently but not from the temperature of the water. She cupped her hands beneath the water to stop the shaking and breathed deeply, squeezing her eyes shut to tap down the ire inside of her. The water turned warm and that helped but scarcely.
In the black of her eyelids, she saw a nightmare of blood and gore.
The door to the bathroom opened. Silently, Nora Malek walked over and handed her a towel to wipe the blood off. "It's not your fault," said her colleague with a look of pity. Without a word, Riley accepted the towel and wiped her hands dry, but the smell of Gale's blood lingered in the sink and in her mind.
The nurse was at Metro General, the doctors trying to stabilize her, Riley wanted to go with her in the ambulance, but Leo advised it was best they get back to the station to sort this out and find the sons of bitches who opened fire on them.
No one wanted to find them more than Riley did.
"They were there for me," she replied tonelessly. She only asked for one night where Daredevil, the Hit List, Sweeney the crime in the city did not matter, would not touch her and poison her life. But she was asking of too much from the universe, apparently.
It set Riley on an edge. It was survival mode now, for her, for Gale.
And if she dies?
Then there needs to be retribution.
With newfound determination, setting her steadfastly on a path to find her would-be murderers. She shoved the bathroom door open and stalked to the conference room, where Fitz called an emergency meeting.
"I managed to get two shots into the van they were driving in," said Leo once they were gathered.
"Search every clinic for records of two white males with gun shot wounds, that's a start," Fitzgerald ordered.
"How is she?" Riley asked Malek on the side for Gale's condition.
"Still in surgery, from what we last heard."
"I got something," Leo announced and read off an address from his computer screen.
"Malek, Leo, head down to the clinic," the sergeant pointed at both of them, "Croftsky and I are going to speak to a Hit-man at Riker's, he's taken contracts for the Irish before."
Either task were appealing for her, she wanted to sink her teeth into this case for real, but as she grabbed her jacket off the back of her chair, Fitz stood in front of her, she immediately knew what was coming;
"You're not going, Knight."
"I have to go, you need me out there," she snapped nearly baring her teeth, without hesitating at the fact that she was arguing with a superior officer.
"The rest of us can handle it, you are staying here, where you can't get yourself into any trouble," he instructed her in a firm, no-nonsense tone.
This was one of her closest friends, and it was her own life at stake too. No way was she going to let the sergeant chain her to her desk again after so many weeks of recovery from the stab wound, this was a fight she couldn't sit out of.
"Sir, I specifically told you I didn't want—"
"It doesn't matter what you want you have a target on your back," Fitzgerald commanded over her, with more than the usual grit to his voice.
Her face was hot with anger, she had to bite back her tongue, in a huff, she put her hands on her hips; "Am I under house arrest?"
"Something like that."
In walked Michaels and Brett Mahoney. They sauntered over to them. Mahoney looking mildly apologetic, but they were only doing what was ordered of them.
Riley let out a frustrated grunt. "Seriously? You're putting me under guard? I don't need to be baby-sat."
"If it prevents you from interfering, hell yes you do."
A/N: What did you guys think of that little goodbye? ;) Please leave a review! I'd love to know what you think, I read all of them!
Till next time! :)