what they wouldn't do | DAREDEVIL

chapter fifteen: games

                      SARAH LEANED HER HEAD AGAINST the front door after she locked it, trying to breathe steadily. She hadn't seen that side of Matt in a while, and she had nearly forgotten how terrifying he was when he wanted to be. Her head was spinning with confusion as she slowly started to come down from the fear-induced adrenaline rush that had kicked in when he'd backed her into the wall. She had been positive at that moment that he was going to go full Daredevil on her to keep her from taking the bribe and turning him in. So why hadn't he?

      Running a shaking hand through her hair, she crossed the room back to the dining room table, where she began gathering the photos together to put them back into the folder. She flipped the folder open, forgetting that there were still more photos inside, and she was immediately greeted by the gory sight of a half-flattened body on a sidewalk, surrounded by police tape. Her stomach turned. She vaguely remembered reading about this one in the news: a junkie had thrown himself off the roof, and his friend who had been shooting up in the same room swore he had seen Daredevil knocking the guy around beforehand. But he couldn't seem to say for certain if it had been real or a hallucination, and soon enough the news had dropped the story.

     Oddly enough, this one almost bothered Sarah more than all the others. One of the most unnerving things about Matt—of which there were many—was the way he seemed to get so consumed by his temper. She was willing to bet that if he were ever to kill someone, that's how it would happen: he'd be interrogating a lowlife somewhere and would simply go too far, throw him over the edge of the building. No chance to calm down or change his mind; just a split second decision that ended in a dead body.

     Sarah closed her eyes and inhaled slowly. Maybe looking at more photos wasn't a good idea. She stuffed them all back into the folder before letting her gaze fall on the ceramic shards that now littered the floor. Reluctantly, she grabbed her dust pan and brush and slowly knelt next to the broken pieces. One more glaringly obvious reminder that no matter how comfortable they had started to become with one another, Matt Murdock was still a violent, dangerous person.

     Matt had pinned her to a wall by her throat, scared her to the point of passing out. Matt had threatened to break her arm, then dragged her into an alleyway and terrified her. Matt had left her with a bruised arm and the sound of his hands slamming into the dumpster echoing in her ears for days. Matt had repeatedly used his size and strength to manhandle and intimidate her, taken every opportunity to show her that he was willing and able to hurt her.

      Matt had also helped her after Ronan attacked her. Matt had been gentle and quiet and bandaged her hands, even after she had busted his lip open in a panic. Matt had given her ice packs, and taken care of her father's traffic ticket. Matt had asked Claire to help her, despite knowing the risks. Matt had agreed to look after her father for her, and taken it upon himself to track down Ronan after what he had done to her. Matt had given her his jacket and helped her through her panic attack.

     But that was the problem, wasn't it? The man couldn't seem to pick whether he wanted to hurt her or help her.

     Sarah couldn't seem to muster the energy to get back up and go throw out the broken mug she'd cleaned up, choosing instead to sit back against the wall tiredly. She turned her head when she heard a tiny scratching noise, and she spotted the mouse lingering under her dining room table.

     "Don't you come in here unless you have advice for me," she warned the rodent.

     He simply twitched his tail. Useless mouse.

     When Sarah was younger, her father had been an adamant supporter of Pros and Cons lists, no matter what the problem was. Making a physical list felt too silly in a situation like this one, so instead Sarah made a mental one in her head: