what they wouldn't do | DAREDEVIL

chapter seven: aftermath

"MATTHEW. IT'S BEEN AWHILE since you've been here."

Matt turned his head towards Father Lantom, who was lingering in the aisle of the empty church, calmly observing the blind man sitting alone on one of the long pews.

"I know. I'm sorry, Father. I've...been busy."

"I assumed as much," Father Lantom said lightly. "Did you come for confession today?"

"Yes. Confession and...and counsel," Matt said.

The priest settled himself on the pew, a few feet from Matt. "Where would you like to begin?"

Matt was quiet for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "I met a girl."

Father Lantom looked at him in slight surprise, and Matt could hear a touch of amusement in his voice. "I have to say, after all of the...more troublesome sins you've come in here to confess, Matthew, impure thoughts isn't one that I expected you to be particularly concerned about."

"Not—not that kind of girl, Father," he said, laughing faintly before falling somber again. "We're not, um...on the best of terms. She works for some...bad people. The kind of people that I—I dedicate all this time and effort to trying to bring down. She has her reasons, but she's there all the same. And she, uh, she knows. Who I am. What I do. Even who my friends are."

"How did that happen?" Father Lantom asked in a concerned tone.

Matt shook his head. "I wasn't careful enough."

"And what is it about the situation that's weighing on your mind?"

"The things she knows...they could put me in a lot of danger. If she told anyone. She could put the people I love in danger. Get them killed, or tortured. I've...done what I had to do. To keep her from telling those secrets. But I'm...I'm struggling. With how I have to do it."

The priest was quiet, and while he contemplated, Matt listened to the creak of the old wooden pews and inhaled the comforting scent of incense and old missals.

"Have you...harmed this woman?"

Matt swallowed hard and tilted his face up towards the ceiling. He could feel the warmth of the sun on his face as it streamed through the stained glass windows high above him. He didn't know whether to lean into it or flinch away from it. Father Lantom was still waiting patiently for his answer.

"Yes. Not—not like I have others. But I've put my hands on her," he admitted guiltily. "I've made her afraid of me. What I've been doing to her...mentally...it's maybe just as harmful as physically hurting her."

The father's heartbeat was steady as always. No matter what sins Matt carried through the church doors and threw at this man's feet, his heart and breathing never changed. It was one of the reasons Matt always came back to him to confess.

"I know that with your...particular line of work, there's little use in debating the moral nuances of violence. But...you don't strike me as the type to hurt people for no reason, Matthew," Father Lantom said. There was a questioning note in his tone.

"I have reasons. This is—it's the only way I can have any control over the situation. The only way I can keep my friends safe."

"Has she given you some reason to believe that she'll tell your secrets?"

"Aside from the fact that she works for the people who would benefit most from finding out? That could destroy my life the quickest? I can't be there every hour of the day to make sure she doesn't break her promise. More than once now, I've thought that she did break it. And the feeling was just...like everything I've worked to protect was going to come crashing down. It's this...constant uncertainty, not knowing what she'll do."