Touch - Matt Murdock

Part Eighteen

Last Fight
TW: blood, emotional scenes, bad writing ):

Franks head was foggy. He groaned as he laid in a cushioned bed, it was warm. A blanket was wrapped around him as he tossed on his side his body stiff and sore. The sound of shuffling brought him back to life as he sat up, wiping his eyes with his hand. Everything blurry and doubled.

Matt was on the opposite side of the room. His hands around a black fabric, sewing a new suit. It was nearly done, just finishes here and there. The air felt tense around him, like the news he had heard from someone who couldn't be Frank was worse than his nightmares as he gripped the fabric with white knuckles.

Frank mumbled on for a moment, talking without making much sense. Before he realized he wasn't when his mind caught up to him he slapped himself in the face. A stinging sensation left on his cheek. He wondered how he got back here, to Matt's church. He took deep breaths. Trying to gather a sentence in his head.

"You got drugged." Matt says boldly in the opposite corner of the room. A cross hanging around his neck. Franks head slowly lifting up to make eye contact with him before realizing how serious the situation was. He needed water, and something to snap his mind back into place. "You walked all the way here from the outside of Hell's Kitchen. It took you a full day of walking and a morning to end up here." Matt was explaining to Frank the best he could without upsetting or making him more confused. Frank slowly stood, his body finding a way to scream 'no way, we aren't doing this', and his whole body ends up on the floor, face first.

"Dammit, Frank!" Matt exclaimed, laying his suit on the chair and limping over to Frank. Groaning exited his throat as Matt helped him sit up. "... Ahhh..." Frank tried to sound out the word he was saying. He was so drugged he couldn't hardly use his tongue. "Frank dammit use your words!" Matt yelled at him, slapping him in the face as Frank took a loud gasp. His eyes rolling, focusing on Matt.

"Ali...Alice." Frank slurred. Matt's whole body goes cold. "What?..." Matt whispered. That's the first news of her since he fell on the steps of the church earlier that day. "Frank what more do you know about Alice!"

"Elek..." He mumbled, his breathing ridged. "Elektra." He wheezed, his body sore, beaten. He struggled to hold himself.

Matt laid him on the floor. Realizing how bad this was. He didn't know exactly what happened, or what will. But from those two names technically in the same sentence meant Elektra got to Alice. And that news was the worst he's heard in a very long time.

He turns to the suit. Biting the thread and tying it off before ripping his pants and shirt off. Frank mumbling nonsense as Matt pulled on the tight black suit. Frank continued to mutter nonsense to tell him about Alice and why Elektra took her as Matt pulled the black mask over his eyes. He walks over to the mirror. Feeling almost a sense of nostalgia as he ran his thumb over his chest. Every stitch of the fabric touching his skin as he leaned his head back. Trying to take in the comfort in the memory of this suit even if it wasn't the original for a moment.

But all he could feel was uncensored rage. He knew he had to be calm if his plan was going to work.

"Red? What the hell is that?"

It was the next day. Matt dropped a large black case on the floor with an exhausted thump and ripped his mask off, blood sweared on his face.

He couldn't hear. He couldn't taste, touch. He was completely disoriented and Frank didn't know why. He crossed his arms, watching Matt run into the wall with a loud grunt as Frank laughed. "Matt what the hell are you doing?" He snapped at him. Watching Matt feel for his surroundings and limp to the sink made Frank feel more concerned for him. Not only was he bleeding, but he seemed really blind.