Love On Fire

We Fall

For the next two weeks Matt has barely been home. I wake up to an empty bed with a note of him saying he's at work every morning. Than wait till late at night for when he returns from beating up the dangers that target this city.

I sigh as I tilt my head to the clock in the kitchen that reads 12:42am. I frown as I sit crossed legged on the couch with my head resting on the cushion, staring up at the ceiling as my head spins from my thoughts.

Every time Matt returns home his body is always more tired and dripping with blood. His cuts never heal from the night before and I always need to restitch them the next day. His voice has been drained and his attitude is worsening by the day when he doesn't see a change in Hell's Kitchen.

Suddenly the door is yanked open and Matt walks quickly down the stairs, ripping the black mask off his face. He tosses a phone at me as he walks past on his way to the kitchen.

I roll my eyes at his already pissy attitude as I look down at the phone, swiping it open as I mutter "No hello?" under my breath.

I skim through the phone as I notice something odd.

"There's no contacts or numbers in this phone." I tell Matt as I turn around so I can face where hes standing in the kitchen. He closes the refrigerator door as he takes out a bottle of water.

"It's a burner, like the one I used to talk with you on." He tells me as he takes a large gulp of water. 

"Someone sent a text message." I tell him as I click on it.

"What does it say?" He asks as he wipes his mouth from any excess water.

"Its a list of four locations. 47thy and 12th. 48th and 9th. 42 and 10th. 44th and 11th." I list reading the text. Matt's eyes sway side to side as he thinks to himself.

"Troika restaurant, 44th and 11th." He voices aloud as he grabs his mask. I glance down at his hands seeing cuts and dried blood on them, my eyes then trail up to see the large bags under his eyes.

"Where they were holding that boy to human traffic?" I ask recalling the name, but he pays no attention.

"The Russians are listing their locations." He thinks to himself aloud, completely ignoring me.

"Matt, where did you even get this?" I ask waving the burner phone in my hands.

"Cop." He answers dryly. I scoff as I look away from him.

"I thought you said the cops couldn't be trusted.

"They can't. This one worked for Fisk, he killed another cop in the precinct. Probably to be rewarded with this list." Matt explains as he starts to ready himself.

"Matt." I say through a sigh, having a bad feeling about tonight.

"This way I bet I'll find who that asshole that hit you with a bat was so afraid of, Vladimir." Matt says as he starts to go up the stairs.

(Play Song)

"Matt...What are you gonna do?" I ask him as I stand up from my position on the couch.

"Whatever it takes." He answers as if its the most obvious thing in the world. I lick my lips and scoff as I walk closer to him.

"Do you know how that sounds?" I ask getting annoyed with his latest actions. "You told that Russian on the roof that you enjoyed hurting people..." I start to say in a low tone but Matt cuts me off for the second time.

"And you told me that you didn't believe me, you said that I'm a hero." He argues.

"You are a hero, but you are also desperate." I voice my concern for his safety.

"I need to be in order to save this city." He clarifies strongly.

"I get that but-" I start to say.

"What do you want me to do Daeva?! Let them win?! Let them rip Hells Kitchen apart?!" He yells loudly causing fear to strike up in me. My breath hitches slightly as my hands start to sweat in panic from his familiar dangerous tone. My eyes start to tear as I stick my tongue against the inside of my cheek, trying to compose myself.

"I want you to reflect, think this through. You are this close to becoming the person you are fighting." I say angrily as I push my thumb and index finger together, showing him how close he is, even though he cant see my hand.

"And how does what I do outside of this apartment reflect to you?" He asks staring me straight in the eyes.

"I barely even see you anymore Matt!" I yell in anger. "It's like I live here alone. And when you do come home you're in a mood that makes it insufferable to withstand." I tell him honestly about how he's been acting for the past two weeks. The cold shoulder when he comes home, not talking to me in the slightest, leaving without even saying goodbye.

"You're right. I'm the asshole! Not someone like Maxim?!" He exclaims as he throws his hands up in anger. My lip trembles slightly at his outburst, I lick my dry lips as a tear falls from my face.

"I shouldn't have to deal with you're fucking mood swings." I mutter as I swipe my tongue over my teeth in anger.

"You're right, you shouldn't." He tells me coldly without an ounce of remorse. I scoff in anger and disbelief at his words.

"Wow." I scoff as I look up at him with teary eyes. I walk closely up to him and tap an angry finger on his chest, pushing him slightly in pure anger as I scowl up at him.

"I'm sick of your bitchy tone." I whisper with a venomous tone.

He looks down at me before he whispers back with the same tone "We're done here.", as he places his mask over his eyes and turns to walk away.

"Have a great night! Cause when you come back you'll return to the same empty apartment it used to be!" I yell just as he makes it up the stairs and slams the door. Once he does I let out a breath as I turn around and face the large windows behind me.

My breaths are labored and my chest heaves as tears fall down my long sorrowful face. I look out the towering windows that illuminate lilac purple luminescence against the black and ivory nightfall sky that cascades through this apartment. My skin is highlighted in the dark living-room as I clasp my arms around my trembling sides in agony of the argument.

I lick my dry lips and shake my head, trying to rid the terrorizing memories of my now late husband. His deadly blows on my body and deafening demeaning abuse. Memories I recently thought I eliminated from my torn mind.

Matt's harsh tone and mannerisms cause my healed scars to burn, however I can't tell if it is my imagination or pure anger.

I start to retrieve my belongings in a hurry, unsure if I should return to my apartment or seek comfort from the bottom of a bottle.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

So they broke up... I mean we all know how Matt got to that point in season 1 where he didn't care, we've hit that point!

Sorry this was really sad :/

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Word count: 1270