Hello readers! As you can ssee, I updated and it hasn't been two weeks! That's because I have made a second set of executive decisions! I have decided to post whenever I feel like it as long as it doesn't exceed a two week waiting period (unless something big comes up in which case I'll tell you first). I also made the decision that I need for and that I'm going to get something (probably lasagna). Anyhow thank you for the readers, followers, favorites, and reviewers! I love you all! Anyhow, into the chapter!
I own nothing!
Foggy reaches the block twenty minutes after he hangs up with Matt. Since they did hang up, Matt remained in the bathroom. Claire didn't seem to need help with Leslie in the living room and he needed a breather to get his senses back in check, so he just stayed on the side of the bathtub and waited until he was needed. That instant seems to be now.
The blind man pushes himself from the ledge and groans, legs and back stiff from remaining still for as long as he did. Of course that could be from reopening some old wounds or the poorly reset ribs that grind when he moves. Either way, he hurts.
His senses must've returned to somewhat normalcy because the scent of Leslie's blood doesn't smack him in the face when he opens the door. Either that, or Claire made sure to clean up everything so it didn't overwhelm him. Whatever the case, he thanks every Saint in heaven for the tiny miracle.
He pads his way down the hall and the blood scent starts to make its way into his nose. The smells of strong disinfectants and medical pads comes next, so he knows Claire took extra care in redoing her work. He refocuses on Leslie's heart and breathing rate when he enters the living room, having tuned it out when he fled to the bathroom. It's still considerably over the healthy rate for any age, but it slowed down more since Claire's cleaned her up.
The nurse lifts her head when Matt enters and her breathing changes to speak. "Leslie apologized for waking you up," she informs as he walks to the kitchen. "She said she must have fallen asleep and had a nightmare. She screamed because she thought it was real."
Matt's eyebrows pull together in confusion as he grabs a knob to a cabinet and pulls it open. "She told you?" he asks as he reaches for two glasses. "As in...told you told you?"
Claire shakes her head and lifts up the notepad. "Wrote it," she clarifies as Matt fills up each glass with water from the tap. "She came back a few minutes after you went to the bathroom. Her hand stopped shaking long enough to get that down."
Matt nods in acknowledgement and walks into the living room with an almost full glass of water in each hand. "It's alright," he says, addressing Leslie as he hands her one of the glasses. The teen jumps when spoken to, but accepts the water with a still slightly shaking hand. "I get it." He hands the other glass to Claire then starts for the door as Foggy starts up the last flight of stairs. "Foggy's here," he announces as Leslie takes a sip of her water.
Claire opens her mouth and starts putting stuff back in her medical bag. "I should go," she states, setting out a few boxes and bottles as puts away needles and other materials. "Foggy, you, the Father, or anyone else she shelters with can have that stuff."
"Thank you, Claire," he says over his shoulder as he opens the door for Foggy. "Hey, Foggy."
The other man smiles widely and extends his arms, hand over the large object he kept shifting over the phone. "Claire's here?" he asks as Matt accepts the four-foot fluffy toy. "Sweet! I was starting to miss her."
Foggy brushes past Matt on his way inside, leaving the blind man standing confused in the doorway. "What's this?" he asks, holding the object at arm's length like it might bite him. He doesn't receive a reply, instead hearing Foggy and Claire make small talk in the living room. Matt sighs through his nose and follows his friend back in, kicking the door closed as he turns. "Foggy," he says, reaching the living room and causing two heads to turn to him. "What is this?"
Claire smiles and rises from her seat beside Leslie. "Is that a teddy bear?" she inquires happily, glancing from the object to the now grinning Foggy. "Why?"
He sits down on the other couch and motions to Leslie. "For her," he says, setting his briefcase in his lap and opening it. "I figured that everyone needs something soft to hold when they get sad or scared. So when I saw that guy in the window, I had to get it." He removes his hand from his case and reveals a large, still hot thermos of green tea. From the smell of it, Karen must have brewed it right before Foggy left in order to ensure the heat. "Karen sent this," he says as Matt smiles and Claire raises an eyebrow. "Oh! It's tea," he clarifies, earning an approving nod from the nurse in response. "We told her Matt was sick so he could take care of Leslie for the day."
"Good," she says, shifting her bag to her shoulder and starting to the door. "I have to run. My shift starts in thirty minutes. It was nice seeing you, Foggy."
"You too, Claire," the other lawyer says with a wave and a smile. The door opens and shuts after a few seconds and Claire is gone. "So," he says, setting the tea on the table and resting his elbows on his knees. "Ready to move?"
Matt shakes his head and walks to Leslie's couch, setting the giant bear on the opposite end of the couch and reaching for the thermos. "I'm not letting you two walk to your house by yourself," he explains, unscrewing the top and pouring some of the liquid in. "I'm going to get ready," he says, handing the small, warm cup to Leslie while taking the water cup and setting it on the table. "We'll leave in ten minutes."
"Is that how long it takes for you to get in the suit?" Foggy asks through a laugh. "I knew it was tight but I thought you would've gotten used to it by now."
Matt manages a few small laughs at his friend's joke before shaking his head. "No," he says, walking to his closet and opening the door. "It's not that. I need to find something better for Leslie to wear."
Foggy purses his lips and nods in understanding. "Ah," he says as Matt opens the closest and crouches for his uniform. "Anyhow, Leslie," he says, redirecting his attention to the teen on the couch. The teen flinches slightly at the sudden acknowledgement and tightens her grip on the cup. "Are you ready to spend the night at my place? We can watch movies and eat popcorn and..."
Matt loses interest in the conversation quickly and tunes out, only focusing on Leslie's heart and breathing for any signs of trouble. He grabs is uniform from its usual place and stands, walking to the bathroom to change. Once dressed, he secures his batons in place and goes back to the living room. Leslie's heart rate jumps suddenly when he steps in, but it returns to her normal levels when she realizes it's him.
Foggy, on the other hand, stops talking and frowns in Matt's direction. "I still think the horns are a bit much," he says, earning a few laughs from Matt as he walks to his dresser.
"Tell that to my stylist," he retorts, listening as Leslie finishes her first cup of tea. He rifles through his drawers for something suitable for Leslie, but doesn't find anything he thinks would fit her. He settles on a pair of well worn jeans and an old button down shirt. He also pauses to grab a pair of socks from the top drawer and moves to grab a pair of his shoes from under the bed. "Here," he says, moving from under the bed and approaching Leslie. "You can go to the bathroom and change into this. I'll make-" He pauses at his sentence and frowns, inhaling deeply before handing her the clothes. "Father Lantom and the sisters..." he corrects as Leslie holds the cup in one hand and takes the clothes with the other. "They'll get you something better to wear."
Leslie nods and lowers the clothes to her lap, moving the cup to the table before rising. She eases by Matt and walks down the hall, limping harshly from the new cast on her broken leg. Once the door closes, Foggy rises. "It's like she didn't even notice the bear," he says, motioning to the toy on the couch.
"She noticed it," Matt informs, recapping the thermos and passing it back to his friend. "She moved a bit closer to it when I set it down. I think she likes it."
Foggy grins and throws his hands up in joy. "So it wasn't a complete waste," he declares, causing Matt to smile at his enthusiasm. His arms drop and he haphazardly tosses the container back into his briefcase. "Now we just have to haul it back to my place at night while avoiding muggers, murderers, and the Russian human trafficking ring." He claps his hands together and sighs. "Did I miss anything?"
Matt frowns at the almost forgotten details of the plan and sighs through his nose. "Just let me handle that," he says, keeping half his attention focused for any mishaps in the bathroom. "I'll monitor you two from the shadows and rooftops. If anything comes up, I'll redirect you two and take care of it before Leslie notices."
Foggy shrugs and closes his briefcase. "Sounds like a plan," he says, grabbing the handle of his case once he closes it and moves to the bear. He grabs the giant stuffed animal by the arm and shifts it to hold it around its midsection. "Where's Leslie?"
Matt pauses to listen to the bathroom. "She's almost done," he informs, tuning out again and refocusing on their conversation. "She's having trouble getting the pants on over her cast."
Foggy nods in understanding, turning to face the hallway. "Should we..."
"No," Matt says with a curt shake of his head. "She got it." The bathroom door opens and Leslie limps out, walking close to the wall for support on her bad side. The shoes clomp loudly on the hardwood and flop off her feet with each step, but they're the only thing they have. Both men turn to look at her and she freezes, tensing harshly but otherwise not moving. "Ready?" he asks gently, causing the teen to jump again.
After a second, the teen nods and relaxes the death grip she held on the other clothes. Foggy nods in agreement and shifts the animal again. "Great," he says before turning to Matt. "Lead the way, Matty."
Much to Matt's surprise, the trip through Hell's Kitchen went down without a hitch. No muggers got too close for comfort, despite the large, very conspicuous teddy bear Foggy toted down the street. No Russian scouts roamed the streets. Just the occasional drunk, couple, or late night street performer. Of course there's the normal late night travelers, lonely souls, and people who are just getting off work, but Matt doesn't count them because he doesn't seem them as threats.
Matt leaves not long after Foggy and Leslie get in, only staying to make sure Leslie isn't going to panic out within the first five minutes of being there. But once Foggy puts a movie into the DVD player, he decides there's no point for him to be there and that Foggy has everything under control. So he leaves to complete the next item on his agenda.
The church isn't that far from Foggy's house, at least not how Matt travels. He drops from the fire escape from the building across the street and makes his way to the church, careful to stick as close to the shadows as possible. He pauses at the front door and listens, not surprised to hear silence on the inside.
The vigilante pads his way around to the housing area of the building, pausing to listen at each window for the Father. After three windows, Matt successfully locates Father Lantom in his room, still awake and kneeling beside his bed in prayer. Feeling uneasy about interrupting the sacred moment, Matt waits the five minutes it takes for the Father to finish praying before tapping on the glass.
Father Lantom jumps, of course, but soon realizes where the disturbance originated and walks to the window. Matt steps back as the Father pushes the barrier away. "It's a bit late for a latte, Matthew," he says, voice tired but as patient as Saint. "But if it's this important, I guess we can go to the confessionals."
Matt smiles and shakes his head, taking a step forward to be in the light. "It's not that, Father," he explains. "I'm sorry to bother you so late, but I was wondering if I could ask for a favor."
The Father pauses for a moment in thought and sighs. "Again," he says, stepping aside to allow Matt entry room. "If it's this important..."
Matt nods in appreciation and lightly hops in the window. "Thank you, Father," he says, pulling his mask off to speak to him face to face.
Father Lantom shakes his head and makes his way back to his bed. "No need for that, Matthew," he says humbly as he sits down on the edge. "Now. What is this favor you need to ask at nearly ten at night?"
Matt sighs through his nose and walks to the corner, lowering himself into the small, wooden chair that occupies that space. "It's not that long a story," he starts slowly, choosing his words carefully under the Father's look. "I...found...this girl. More like a...young woman. She's nineteen years old and, from what I can assume, she just turned nineteen not that long ago."
"Does this young woman have a name?" Father Lantom questions, resting his hands in his lap.
Matt nods. "Leslie," he responds. "But she doesn't know her last name." He earns an understanding nod from Father Lantom before he motions for Matt to continue. Matt nods again and clasps his hands together in his lap. "I...found her...with a member of the Russian human trafficking ring last night..." The Father's breathing hitches at the mention, causing Matt to pause until he's motioned to continue. "She was being beaten in an apartment a few blocks from here. I don't know how long she's been with them, but from how he was talking to her..." His grip on his hands tighten. "Jesus how he talked to her..."
"Language," the Father interrupts as he always does.
Matt nods an apology and continues after earning an approval nod from Father Lantom. "I got there just before the next buyer came to get her. She refused to go to any authority figure or the hospital to take care of her...injuries... But she went to my house almost without a fight... I had a friend come over and patch her up and another friend is watching her while I'm here..."
There's a pause where Matt thinks about what to say next. "I take it there's a 'but' coming up?" Father Lantom inquires, earning a confirming nod from the vigilante in response.
"But..." he starts before signing. "I can't...keep her...with me," he explains. "She seems like she's a good kid... But Jesus-"
"Language," Lantom states again.
"Sorry," Matt says before continuing. "I think her damage is more psychological than anything. She's so...terrified...of everything. Her heart rate is way above normal levels. Same with her breathing rate. She's always at the point just before a panic attack it seems and she's always... waiting for punishment. As if it's normal for her to be abused for needing basic human requirements. She hasn't even said a thing since she's gotten here-"
"Matthew," the Father says, holding up a hand to stop him. The blind man pauses and takes a breath, finally realizing he was ranting. Father Lantom nods in approval and his breath shifts to speak. "It sounds like you're worried about her well being," he starts wisely. "But it also sounds like you doubt your abilities to care for her." Matt hesitates then nods in confirmation. "I take it this is where the favor comes in?"
Matt nods in confirmation again. "Could you take her in, Father?" he asks. "Keep her in one of the rooms back here and help her get better."
Father Lantom pauses, making Matt assume that he's pondering the request. "Matthew," he says again, causing Matt to rub his hands together nervously. "Is that really what's best for her?"
The question throws Matt off. "Of course," he says, sounding mildly insincere even to himself. "I mean, you took me in when my father...passed."
"That's because you needed spiritual guidance," Lantom responds. "When your father died, you were confused and angry and you needed something to hold on to for stability. Leslie sounds hurt in a way spiritual guidance alone won't be able to fix. It'll definitely help, but I honestly doubt it'll do all the work."
"Then what do I do, Father?" Matt almost pleads. "I can't help her-"
"Yes," Lantom says calmly, stopping Matt before he starts ranting again. "You can. Matthew, God put her with you for a reason. If you weren't meant to find her when you did, He wouldn't have put her in a place where you could have. He knows you're able to help her, Matthew. He can see that your heart is in the right place, and that you are genuinely concerned about this young woman. He sees that you have every intention of keeping her safe and helping her work through whatever may have happened to her in the past, and I'm assuming that others are as well since she's not here right now. So the question isn't whether you're able to help her, Matthew. It's whether or not you're willing to?"
The Father's words ring true in Matt's ears, as does his continuously steady heart beat. He honestly believes that Matt's able to take care of Leslie and that God does as well. And he's right. God put Leslie in his care for a reason and he can't really deny God's will. Plus it would haunt him forever if he does leave Leslie in the church care and a religious Russian recognize her and drags her back.
With that thought in mind, the vigilante's path is clear and he nods once. "I am," he says, sitting up straighter and looking directly at the Father. "I'm going to take care of Leslie."
Father Lantom smiles and nods, rising to his feet and causing Matt to do the same. "I knew you would," he says in approval, crossing the floor to stand in front of Matthew. "I'm here to help in any way I can."
"Thank you, Father," Matt replies, extending a grateful hand and clasping the Father's. "I'm going to need all the help I can get."
"Of course," Father Lantom says, releasing Matt's hand and starting toward the window. "Any time. Just...please come in through the door next time."
Matt laughs lightly at the Father's half joke and stops when he does beside the window. "Yes, Father," he says with a nod. "But can I ask one more favor from you before I leave?"
Father Lantom nods and turns to face him. "Of course," he responds.
"Foggy has her for tonight since I'm...working... But I have no one to watch her tomorrow when I actually have to work. I don't think she can handle being left alone for too long yet. Do you think she could..."
The other man nods once more. "Of course," Father Lantom says. "I'll have Sister Olivia look after her. Just let me know if this is going to be a regular thing. I need to make sure the kitchen has enough snacks for the visits."
Matt smiles gratefully and hops out the window. "Thank you again, Father," he says, turning to nod at him. "I'll bring her around ten if that's alright." Lantom gives another confirmation and Matt nods, pulling his mask back up and over his face. "Thank you, Father."
"Any time, Matthew."
With one more finalizing nod, Matt turns and hurries down the alley, quickly leaping up onto the fire escapes and taking to to rooftops. Now that that's taken care of and his mind is set, he can focus fully on the main target. Taking down the Russian trafficking ring. He assumed that once Vladimir and Anatoly died, they would shut down. Of course he should've known that someone else would've taken over not long after.
Step one, he thinks as he stops to listen to the sounds of the city below him. Find new trafficking boss. Step two. Take it out. Somewhere in there, help Leslie. Easy.
A woman's scream pulls his attention to the left, forcing his senses into overdrive to get the full scenario. One woman. Early to late twenties. Terrified. Fighting. Attempting to fight at least. But she's starting to get tired.
The attacker is much stronger than her. Fuller. Armed. Definitely part of the trafficking ring. He's growing impatient with the struggle. Perfect. Impatience makes mistakes. The vigilante takes off at a sprint toward the sound, leaping from rooftop to rooftop to reach her before things get worse.
It's time to start step one.