Rough Changes (Frank Castle x Matt Murdock)

the bartender might have a heart

is it the will of men that lead others to a saving grace? if you take someone's fate into your own hands is it the equivalent as taking the Lords name in vain, or does He not count it as blasphemy? if you take control of not only yourself but those around you are you a greater sin than you were before, or are you less of a man? if you forge a path by your own will are you doing His job for Him, or are you contracting a deadly disease given from the devil? how do we know where to step? how do we see the line? is the fence between will of man and will of God seen, or do we do what we need to do and pray that we won't be punished? 

•

matthew hadn't been planning on telling anyone anything about what happened, but he wasn't exactly sure how to resist. how did he resist the temptation to earn potential empathy towards his state?

'alright, matt. now tell me what the hell happened.'

the bartenders words echoed through his head over and over again, following a rhythm he didn't quite recognize.

'alright, matt. now tell me what the hell happened.'

what was he supposed to say? as much as he wanted empathy he cringed at the thought of speaking words of the events that occurred. what had happened proved him to be weak. his entire life he had fought to be seen as something greater than he was, and now what? what had the gruff bartender dumbed him down to? a blind guy who couldn't hold his own in a fight? a blind kid who had been helplessly deaf? a blind student who panicked like a cornered dog? he knew what he was to the bartender - he was just another disabled man. another burden.

'alright, matt. now tell me what the hell happened.'

at the end of the day what was he? better yet, who was he? he was weak. defenceless. powerless. probably seen as a basket-case. as much as he craved the idea of empathy he knew that if he was given it he'd instantly recoil. matthew didn't want pity. he wanted someone to care but couldn't handle the actuality of it.

'alright, matt. now tell me what the hell happened.'

matthew shook his head as thoughts swarmed through his mind like an angry storm. he knew he was pathetic. he knew he was a waste of life. the men he had been with earlier knew and now he knew too. he couldn't admit what had happened, and he never could. it was against gods plan - he should had allowed himself to be taken over in such a way. he could have fought, he could have run. he could have sobered himself up enough to put up a satisfactory fight, yet here he was.

'alright, matt. now tell me what the hell happened.'

at the end of the day he wasn't anyone special. he wasn't like the gruff bartender. he wasn't like foggy. hell, he wasn't even like marci. at the end of the day he was just matt murdock, and he knew he couldn't tell the man anything.

"no."

matthew was surprised at how quiet his voice sounded, and for a moment he thought the bartender was going to continue to push. his mind was still a little messed up and exhaustion ricocheted through his head like a deadly bouncy ball, but he had heard the man's breath hitch and his heart beat a little faster. he didn't have to be a genius to know that the bartender was going through an internal struggle, and it left matthew waiting for the outcome. it left matthew waiting to be told to leave. however when the man spoke again he didn't say such a thing. he may have been hinting at the idea, but he wasn't forward. matthew wasn't sure whether or not that put him at ease.

"do you have anyone you can call?"

matt winced after shaking his head - doing so only made the viscous bouncy ball bounce around more violently. it felt as if it were stabbing little knives into every part of his skull, and soon that pain was moving down his neck.

"no. no one can see me like this."

the bartender sighed.

"anywhere you can go off campus?"

this time matthew refrained from shaking his head as he didn't want to worsen his discomfort.

"unless you count the church."

this time the bartender scoffed, and matthew couldn't help but raise a brow.

"not the religious type?"

"would it be a problem if i wasn't?"

matt didn't answer as he wasn't quite sure what to say. no, it wouldn't be a problem. both men seemed to know that -or at least assume- but the way the bartender said it was rhetorical. he could tell that the other man was thinking of something, whether that be a plan for himself or for matt, and he didn't want to interrupt the train of thought.

truthfully, matthew wanted to walk out and find a nice ditch to lay in as he continued to bleed out. maybe he'd find peace in the new landscape.

finally, after what felt like years, the bartender spoke again.

"you can come to my place."

matthew was visibly caught off guard by the comment.

"what?"

the bartender either didn't seem to notice matthew's state, or he didn't care. matt guessed the latter.

"can you stand?"

"i- you- what? i don't-"

"c'mon, can you stand?"

matthew pushed himself to his feet and pain surged through his chest. he put his hand to the cold tile wall to keep from doubling over

"i don't need to go to your place, like, at least buy me dinner first."

he didn't have to be able to see to know what look had crossed over the bartenders face. matthew had conditioned himself to push through pain while in intense bouts of it, and he was sure that the bartender didn't know whether to kick his ass out the front door and carry his ass out to his car.

"you can shower and rest if you come with me. i've got a shift later, but you can stay for a couple'a hours."

the offer was rather tempting, but matt knew better than to take it. he had a stronger will than to give in to what some stranger suggested. he didn't have to take help from the man despite his need for it.

"how do i know this isn't a trap? how do i...how do i know you're not one of the men from earlier?"

the bartender shifted on his feet, though his heart kept a steady beat. the man had had nothing to do with his beating, but matt had felt the need to bring up the possibility. for all he knew the man had initiated the thing, but for what? what reason did he have to do such a thing? matt was just grasping at straws.

"i have more more dignity than to jump a blind man and strip him of his own."

matthew could feel his cheeks burn in response. the bartender knew what happened, to some extent, and he wasn't sure whether he was relieved or ashamed.

"i'll miss class."

"i think you're just makin' excuses now."

"you're doing this out of pity."

"no, i'm doing this to get your bloody ass outta my bar."

matt cocked his head to the side.

"this is your bar?"

"no, it's-" the bartender gave a huff. "you need to leave. whether or not you come with me is up to you."

despite the man's words matthew knew that whatever he chose to do, the bartender would most likely sway him to come to his place. he didn't seem like a guy to care for others in that way, especially not strangers, but he knew that he had somehow struck a nerve. why? he wasn't sure. how? he had no idea. but he knew that he'd be going with the bartender one way or another, though not in a bad way. he wouldn't be violently shoved in the man's vehicle, but he'd be verbally pushed until he gave in, and in that moment that was the type of person matthew needed to take care of him.

•

okay so i've clearly shortened the chapter length. I'll probably keep it around this length so I can hopefully have motivation to keep writing this. if I continue with this book it'll mean that I have two currently on the go, so I'll try to keep up with it lol. i'm not actually sure where to go with the plot though. if anyone has any suggestions as to what you wanna see feel free to comment :)