"We should go." Matt said

"Sure." Harry replied. He stood up, stepping over Matt's cane which had moved to just over his feet. He thought he heard the blind lawyer huff a small laugh.

Ignoring it, he set of down the hill, keeping an eye on the older man (so to speak) as they walked along the sandy path together. To his surprise, Matt seemed just as capable as he himself did, not tripping over the small pebbles that littered the path or noticing in the slightest when it made an unexpected swerve to the left. His cane was tapping along the ground in front of him, but to Harry it almost looked unnecessary, almost as if Matt was simply doing it out of habit rather than any need for the services it provided.

Harry pushed an overhanging bramble out of his face as they passed, picking one of the dark blackberries as he let go and tossing it into his mouth. The fruit was overripe and tart.

Harry was slightly fascinated by Matt's cane as they walked, listening to the rhythmic tapping as it swung from side to side. As such, he had a fraction of a second's warning more than he would have if he had been looking ahead when the stick swung up towards his face.

He yelped and ducked it, his hypersensitive senses reacting before his brain to dodge to the side as the stick came down towards him again. Harry jumped backwards away from Matt, who had a small smile on his face. "What the fuck?" Anger flared in his chest, overpowering the panic he had felt at first.

In answer, Matt leapt into action, twirling his cane in his hands as he attacked.

Harry had experience fighting, having lived with Dudley Dursley for 11 years, but he barely managed to dodge the blows, moving away from the lawyer. They had stopped on a large area of flat grass, the the sea on Harry's right and the side of a small cliff making a natural wall of rock on the left.

Harry tried to block the swipes he couldn't dodge with his arms, covering his head and barely managing to bring his hands back down to protect his exposed ribs. "What the hell, Murdock?" The stick made a high pitched whistle every time it swung towards him with a rush of displaced air, but even combined with his heightened reactions Matt moved too quickly for Harry to avoid them all.

Seeing a fist-sized rock by his foot, Harry ducked down to pick it up, coincidentally moving underneath a sideways sweep of the white cane. He straightened and threw the rock towards the lawyer, not really expecting it to do anything, but with no other way to fight back without setting the man on fire. Matt easily dodged the projectile, simply turning to the side to allow it to fly past him, and struck out simultaneously with his right hand and foot. His foot slammed into Harry's thigh, his fist just under his ribs, and Harry collapsed to the ground with a grunt, gasping for air.

He rolled away and pushed himself to his knees, his leg buckling when he tried to stand. Harry ducked to the side to avoid the cane as it swung towards him, and managed to get both hands on it, pulling it out of Matt's grip.

He rolled away and scrambled to his feet, using the stick to stay upright on a dead leg as he dodged to avoid another flurry of blows. They slammed into his torso and Harry dropped to a crouch, sweeping the stick out at Matt's shins. He easily jumped over it, but gave a small nod.

"Good."

Glowering, Harry straightened, stretching his thigh and balancing on the balls of his feet.

Matt had backed away a few feet and begun circling around him, and Harry turned, following his movements. He shifted the cane in his hands to hold it out towards in front of himself like a sword, both hands gripping the padded black handle. He forced his hands not to tremble as he remembered the last time he had held a sword.

Harry barely reacted in time when Matt moved. He moved the cane to block his arms, then struck out with a foot. Matt easily dodged his clumsy attack and soon had his arm around Harry's neck, cane in his hand.

"Don't let your opponent get in close if you've got a weapon with a longer reach." He said, releasing Harry and tossing him the cane. Perplexed, Harry dropped the catch, but snatched it up and brought it swinging around to knock away Matt's hand as he attacked again. "That's it."

Harry let out small yells and grunts as he used the white stick to block Matt's hands and feet, ducking and dodging to the sides.

"Don't let me manoeuvre you where I want you to go." Matt said as Harry took a step backwards and bumped into the rock face. Harry swung out with the cane and Matt pivoted to avoid it, before launching a high kick Harry was able to duck. He dodged away from the wall, turning to face Matt again. He was fairly certain Matt had moved that way on purpose, but it got him out of the corner he had been backed into so he wasn't complaining.

Harry's ears rang with the sounds of flesh on flesh and the clack of the cane when it hit the stones around them as Matt continued to attack, the phoenix tears warning him of attacks even as he began to learn to anticipate them; blows heralded by a preparatory inhale, a rush of displaced air.

Matt moved impossibly fast, knocking the stick away if Harry tried to fight back and shooting lightning-quick jabs at his head, torso, legs with both arms and feet, spinning and pivoting, always on the move. Harry managed to get one strike with the cane to connect, swinging it into the side of Matt's torso. He gasped in pain before backing off a few steps, hands raised, and Harry remembered the groaning sound of his ribs.

Harry raised the cane to stop a fist aimed at his head, but wasn't fast enough to stop the second that slammed into his stomach. He doubled over on reflex, and didn't notice Matt's foot sweep out towards his legs until it had crashed into the back of his knees.

He fell to the ground, the white stick clattering away as it slipped from his grasp, and then Matt's knee was on his chest, an arm across his throat.

Harry tapped his forearm twice, and Matt stood up, releasing the pressure on his chest and throat. Harry sat on the ground for a few seconds, panting slightly, and pushed his sweaty hair out of his face, settling his dark glasses on his nose. Matt was stood a few metres away, casually watching him, his white cane back in his hands.

Eventually, Harry stood up and brushed the dirt off his shorts. He cautiously wandered over towards Matt, standing just out of reach of the range of the cane. Adrenaline was pounding through his veins, and he could feel a small tongue of flame flickering at the tip of his finger. He curled his hand into a fist, putting out the fire. "That was a test." He stated.

Matt inclined his head.

"What for?" Harry demanded. "Why did you attack me?"

"I wanted to see if I was right." Matt replied.

"About what?"

"About you." Matt said. "Your eyes might not work, but that doesn't mean you can't see."

"You're one to talk." Harry said, raising his eyebrows.

Matt gave a small laugh. "Yeah, well. I guess so. I guess we were just born lucky."

"You think I'm lucky?" Harry's eyes narrowed. "My parents were murdered when I was a baby. The man that killed them has tried to do me in twice more, once whilst pretending to be a teacher at my school. The relatives I was sent to live with hated me. My eyes are fucked. I got kidnapped and tortured by terrorists for over a year. Everybody who knew me before thinks I'm dead." He gave a humourless laugh. "I would give anything not to be able to hear your heartbeat if it meant things went back to the way they were."

"I said the same thing to somebody once." Matt said. "But we are. Lucky, I mean. Fine, your eyesight is gone now, but you had over ten years of vision; watching movies, reading books, seeing your friends' faces. Now you can't see, but your other senses are dialled up to 11. You were in Afghanistan for a long time, but you survived. You have a gift. Use it. Make the most of the cards life dealt you."

"You don't know jack shit about my life." Harry snapped. He could feel the flames licking at his insides, and grit his teeth, trying to force them down. "You have no idea what I've been through! You don't know anything about me!"

"I know you're angry." Matt replied calmly. "And upset and hurt. And you have every right to be. But you have abilities most people would kill for. You can harness them and train them; do good with them. You can make a difference."

"By learning to fight?"

"Fighting is just the start." Matt said, shaking his head. "You have to learn to control your emotions. You're good at deflecting things away, denying your feelings, but you need a way to deal with them, to harness them."

"And you can help me with that?" Harry jeered.

"Yes." Matt replied simply. "Believe it or not, I know what you're going through."

Harry scoffed, but he could feel the anger draining out of him as the adrenaline left his body. He sank to the floor, leaning against the rock wall with his head in his hands.

Matt moved towards him and Harry stiffened, his hand resting over a scar on the back of his neck.

"I hate them." Harry whispered. "I fucking hate them."

"Who?"

Harry wasn't even sure. Voldemort, for killing his parents. Dumbledore, for leaving him with the Dursleys and not letting him go back to Hogwarts. The Dursleys. Everybody in Little Whinging who had ignored everything his relatives did, labelling him as the troubled delinquent that hurt himself for attention. Whoever had kidnapped him from Privet Drive. His so-called friends at Hogwarts, who had turned on him as soon as he was different. The people that had tortured him and captured Tony and killed Ho Yinsen. Matt, for making him fight when all he wanted to do was hide. Tony, for being so... fine after everything they had been through. He felt tears pricking the back of his eyes, and couldn't stop them as they started to fall.

He didn't move when Matt dropped to the ground next to him, collapsing the white cane and holding it across his crossed legs.

"You've been through a hell of a lot." Matt said gently. "More than most people would be able to endure. But you did. Endure it. You made it through. And now people are telling you how to feel, like they have any idea what you've been through. They'll tell you to move on, to put the past behind you and not get angry."

"I just want my life back." Harry whispered.

Matt shook his head. "They can't give you that. No one can. But your ability to get through this as this gets harder... that is a hundred times more powerful than slapping a smile on your face and pretending like everything's just fine to the people around you."

"Yeah? And how do I do that?"

"No one can give you your life back, Harry. You have to take it back. Get up and not stop fighting."

"I don't know how to fight." Harry said despondently. "I've never been able to fight. My whole life, people have kicked me down and attacked me and beaten the shit out of me, and all I've been able to do is sit there and take it, watch as everything I care about gets ripped away." He swallowed another sob. "I'm weak."

"You're not weak." Matt said. He was fiddling with the stick on his lap. "Your body is weak because you're young and have had people beating you down for as long as you can remember. But your mind - Your mind is the strongest I have ever seen. How else would you survive ten years with your Aunt and Uncle? How could you make it out of Afghanistan and still be able to enjoy the sound of the ocean? Your mind rules your body, so if your mind is strong you can make your body strong. You can fight back."

Harry took a deep breath and rubbed his face in embarrassment. "The mind rules the body."

Matt nodded. "The mind controls the body, the body controls your enemies, and your enemies control jack shit by the time you're done with them." It sounded like he was reciting something from memory, a mantra he had learned and lived by, but Harry gave a small laugh and nodded, letting the lawyer pull him to his feet.

"Fighting is just the start." Matt said. "You have to control your feelings."

"How."

"Meditate." Matt replied. "Learn it, open yourself up to it. It will make you stronger and more focused, heal your wounds faster."

"I heal pretty fast as it is." Harry said.

"Even so."

The two walked in silence down the path for a while.

"You don't have to do this." Matt said. "If you feel like you've been through enough, I can walk away and we'll never talk about this again. I won't tell anybody what you can do, and you can try and have a normal life."

"But?"

"But I think you need to. You need something that proves you're strong, that you're still fighting." Matt unfolded his stick. "I can help, but it's up to you." They stopped walking. "We can go back to Stark's house, and you can go to school, swim in the sea, live in safety and comfort and security, away from people who want to hurt you. Or, you can take this, and I can teach you to fight. To take a hit and keep getting hit. It's up to you."

Harry paused for a second, before his hand closed around the handle of the cane.

"Good choice."