Ruth had a tendency to take the blame for pretty much everything in her life, especially when it came to her friendship with Matt Murdock. For years, if Ruth felt the friendship was in any kind of danger, she would take all of the responsibility, inflate Matt's ego, and wait for everything to mend. But then when everything began to end, and Ruth was an adult with two Bachelor's degrees, she finally stood her ground. Matt had gotten used to letting the blame fall on Ruth's shoulders. After that, when it came to Matt Murdock, Ruth wanted so badly to blame him for everything. Ruth's flaws, fears, feelings. It was all his fault. Somehow, someway, she could trace it all back to him if she really tried.

And as he made his way up to the choir loft, Ruth's heart began to race as she connected every possible dot to free herself from any blame. She couldn't help it. She was so humiliated by what happened and so determined to stop the warzone in her psyche that she needed to ensure none of this situation was her fault. The big debate she had formed in her head shattered, however, when slow clapping began to echo from the staircase. Bile rose in Ruth's throat when it was not Matt who walked through the door.

"That was a lovely service." Said Vanessa, her voice as silky and chilling as ever. "I'm impressed by your organ playing."

Ruth tried desperately not to show the terror in her face, but she shook so badly that she knew one step would make her crumble to the floor.

"I was delightfully surprised to see your old friend here today." She added, running her hand over the ledge of the loft. She made a face of disgust at the years' worth of dust buildup.

"I had no idea he came to this church when I took the job." Ruth squeaked out, feet planted in her spot by the organ.

"Fate is a truly beautiful thing, isn't it?" Vanessa asked rhetorically, picking up an old hymnal from the ledge.

What the fuck did she mean by that ? Ruth felt dizzy at the idea that Vanessa might have been controlling every part of her life for weeks already.

"You. . . want me around him?" Ruth asked, and while she was feeling very confused, she was beginning to realize once again how stupid she'd been.

Vanessa guffawed, shaking her head in disbelief. "Are you illiterate?" She asked, annoyance pulling at her features. "Did you not read the contract?"

Ruth's silence was enough of an answer for Vanessa. She'd almost considered admitting that she physically couldn't read it because of the bad lighting and tiny font and—oh yeah—the gun.

"I could tell from all your records that you were very intelligent, but I suppose I neglected the possibility that out of the realm of academia you'd be a bumbling idiot." Vanessa spat, reaching into the purse on her arm. She pulled out the contract (rather aggressively), and began to read. " The Service Provider will maintain availability for all entertainment requirements at the Client's wishes. The Service Provider will maintain a close relationship with Matthew Murdock, and report back to the Client regularly. The Service Provider will be used as a means to destroy Matthew Murdock ."

Damn. Ruth had wondered what the contract said, but she definitely wasn't expecting that. It made sense, though. Why else would Vanessa choose her? She was so fucked. There was literally no way out of it. It was sign it or die, and now, even if Matt agreed to help her, she'd be doing exactly what the contract wanted. And she couldn't just lie when 'reporting back.' Vanessa would figure it out eventually, and she'd kill her. And who's to say all of this doesn't end with her dead anyway? The only thing that could destroy Matt Murdock would be killing all the people he cares about. And if she managed to get close to him again, she'd be right on that list.

What the fuck was she supposed to do?

"He's probably waiting for you on that bench out front." Vanessa said, walking to the exit slowly. "You'd better go say hello before he gives up on you."


Fall, Sophomore Year of College:

"I really don't want to throw up."

"I know."

"I really fucking hate throwing up."

"I know."

Ruth's vision pulsed in unison with the muffled bass from outside the bathroom door. She was currently leaning over a toilet—Matt behind her holding her hair up—with a tear stained face and white knuckles. Ruth did not like the taste of alcohol, not even a little bit, but she was so desperate to prove she could handle a college party that she forced solo cup upon solo cup down her esophagus. She quickly regretted it.

"You'll feel better once you do it." Matt said, reaching for the hand towel hanging next to the sink and soaking it with water.

"I'm. . .scared." Ruth whimpered, feeling incredibly detached from herself. She flinched a little as Matt placed the cool towel on the back of her neck.

"It'll be over soon." Matt said.

"You can say 'I told you so.'" Ruth muttered, trying hard not to think about the germs that were probably all over this bathroom.

"I'll wait 'til you're sober. I'm not that cruel."


Present Day:

Ruth vomited into the bushes outside the church entrance. She had held onto her panic so tightly, its only way out was her esophagus. She had never in her life felt so helpless. She also had never puked in church bushes, either. She wiped her mouth, catching a glimpse of Matt on the bench just as Vanessa had described.

"You smell like puke." He said when she inched closer.

Ruth scrunched up her face, her skull pounding. "Thanks."

He rested his head on the handle of his cane, sighing. "I'm not sure how I can help you here."

"Me neither." Ruth said. She didn't get any closer. "You. . .You can say—"

"I'm not saying 'I told you so.'" He shook his head, scoffing. "I just. . .You've put me in danger, you've put yourself in danger, you've put my friends in danger. The Ruth McGrath I knew would not have been that stupid."

"The Ruth McGrath you knew changed the second you decided I was a burden." There he went again with the audacity. "Yes, I should've listened, and yes, I put a bunch of people in danger, but did you not think that even now I'm affected by what you said to me? You ruined me, Matt." Ruth, dizzy and nauseated still, began to feel the anger bubbling in her arms. "And sue me for thinking someone just wanted to hear me sing. I mean, you have to realize that I had no good reason to listen to you." She wondered briefly if they should be speaking so publicly. Vanessa obviously had eyes and ears everywhere. Ruth also distantly acknowledged how desperately she needed to lie down.

"I don't know what I could do to get you out of this situation." Matt stated, obviously unable to argue the points Ruth continued to make.

"I know."

"And you're fulfilling your duties just by talking to me right now."

Ruth winced. "I know."

Matt's voice this time was much quieter, as if he hadn't wanted her to hear what he said. "But you lied when you said I meant nothing to you."

"I did." Ruth said just as quietly.

"You're about to faint." Matt then said, only a hint of alarm in his voice. He stood up, stepping over to Ruth.

"I am?" She asked, and quickly she realized Matt only sounded quieter because her ears were ringing. Her vision became blotchy, and instinctively she tried to sit down on the ground. Matt caught her by the upper arms, moving her over to sit on the bench.

"Put your head down." He commanded, crouching in front of her. "And take slower breaths. Your heart is racing."

Ruth was starting to feel sick again as Matt's shoes became harder and harder to see. This was all too much. "I don't want to throw up again." She heard herself say, but her voice sounded miles away.

"You're not going to. You're just dizzy." He stated, head tilting for a moment. "Your blood sugar is pretty low." The lack of breakfast and the vomiting would certainly do that.

"My bag. There's some cr—"

"Cranberry juice. Just like old times." Matt said, reaching for her bag and finding the juice easily. He unscrewed the cap, holding it up to her mouth for her to drink. Embarrassing! But her hands were clearly too shaky to hold it.

The spots in Ruth's eyes went away after a few minutes, but the pair silently waited to move until she stopped shivering so violently. "Okay. I'm better." She announced, sitting up slowly. "Sorry about that."

Matt sighed, still crouched in front of her. He placed a hand on her knee, the touch somewhat welcoming. She'd cringe at it later. "It's scary. And I'm sorry you've gotten caught up in it." He admitted. "I'm going to help you find a way to get out of this. I just can't. . .I can't promise you. Not this time."

"I understand." Ruth replied, voice breaking. God. A few days ago she was a bored, lonely music teacher. And what was she now?

What was she going to become, under the thumb of Vanessa? Her throat burned at the thought.


Spring, Senior Year of High School:

Ruth leaned up against the wall in the small hallway that led to a stairway and the chapel. It was the seniors' last week of school, and she was waiting patiently for Matt so they could head to the bus for the senior retreat. One of Ruth's (sort of) friends from the beginning of high school, Anne, came through the double doors of the stairwell.

"Congratulations on valedictorian, Ruth." She said as she passed by.

"Thank you." Ruth replied, surprised Anne even said anything at all. Anne had been convinced since freshman year that she would be at least top two—and also thought Ruth had no chance at being first in the class—and therefore backhandedly made Ruth's early high school career a living hell. She constantly compared herself to Ruth, and did everything she could to try and convince Ruth that she wasn't good enough. And in the end she was fourth in the class. "Congrats on the top five." Ruth said sincerely.

"Thanks. That's where you end up when you don't cheat your way through high school." Whoa , nevermind. Ruth was naive to think Anne was actually cool with her by now.

"Cheat? What are you talking about?" Ruth asked, stepping forward from the wall.

"Oh, please. Everybody knows it. You pretend you can't see out of one eye." Anne insisted.

Ruth was in shock. "I can see out of the eye, it's just really distorted. I've never lied about my disability ." She replied, sitting on the last word.

"Yeah, sure. Anything to get extra time on tests. And you get to ride on the coattails of your little blind buddy."

"Anne, I have no idea what you're talking about." Ruth could feel her face getting warmer and warmer as rage swam through her body.

"It's so embarrassing to watch. You follow him around like a pathetic little gnat . It's so obvious you're obsessed with him! It's disgusting. Everyone knows you're in love with him—"

Ruth lunged for the girl, intending to punch the snot out of her, but she was pulled back immediately. She fought against the person holding her back, kicking and squirming in an attempt to escape so she could make Anne pay for what she said.

"Roo, relax. " The person said, spinning her around to face him. Of course it was Matt. He would've heard everything Anne said. Ruth felt so humiliated, so pissed . She breathed harshly as she attempted to calm down. "If you hit her, you're fucked."

Right. She was in school. Father Emerson really liked Ruth, but not enough to let her off the hook for breaking that bitch's nose the week before prom and graduation. She turned back to Anne, still seething. "Say shit like that again and you won't be so lucky."

Anne just laughed and walked away.

"Nobody thinks you cheated." Matt said as the water stopped rushing in Ruth's ears. "And sadly, you aren't obsessed with me or desperately in love with me. It would be nice to have a fan." Matt joked.

Ruth punched him lightly in the arm. "You would like that, wouldn't you?"

Sure, she wasn't in love with the guy, but the statement sent her down a spiral. One she'd managed to avoid for a long, long time. She didn't like Matt Murdock, did she?

No, no she couldn't. She would know for sure if she did.

Right?