Of Guilty Saints and Innocent Sinners *Matt Murdock* Damned If I Do coda

Of Guilty Saints and Innocent Sinners

"The jury finds Officer Daniel Collins – not guilty!"

Vera's heartbeat stopped. That wasn't possible. How could they decide he was innocent? He kidnapped her, he tortured her, he enjoyed it and he was found not guilty? Her head spun as she stood up from the settle, walking down the alley in the courtroom. She saw the policeman, who brought Collins to the room in handcuffs, liberating him. Collins smiled at her wryly, arrogance shining from his eyes. It made her feel nauseous.

He was free.

Vera got out, breathing in the not-so-fresh air of New York City. When a hand appeared on her shoulder, she covered it with hers. She knew it was Matt – she would recognize that touch anywhere.

"It wasn't your fault, you know," he said softly, stroking her arm reassuringly.

Well, why did it feel like it then? She was the only witness. She was the only one who could have messed up. And she did. Royally. She must have, because a dangerous criminal was cleared of all charges.

Loud bang and crack echoed in her ears. Vera snapped her head in that direction, only to see Matt's knees giving up and his limb body collapsing, before she could even slow down his fall.

"Matt?!" She quickly crouched to his unmoving figure lying flat on the pavement, face down. What the hell-

Then she noticed the blood. There was a huge growing stain of blood on the back of his head. As if he was-

"I don't really think he's gonna wake up," the voice she hated remarked casually.

Hand pressing to the wound (and darkness clouded her vision as she felt the crack in his skull, fragments of a bone shifting under her fingers), she looked at the attacker. He wore dubious expression, leaning onto a baseball bat, smudge of blood on its side.

"I mean it. It was a huge blow. He's dead. You know he is. And that's just the beginning, sweetheart." He winked at her and disappeared in the crowd.

Her shaking hand checked Matt's breathing, another checking his pulse. Despite her panic, she monitored it for full ten seconds like she had been them. There was nothing.

"Matt?" she whispered, tears appearing in her eyes as she rolled him over. She only met his hazy eyes with deadly glare.

"Ježiši Kriste."

Hand gripped her forearm firmly, strong enough to bruise – he moved, turning his head to her with determination. She gasped, hope fluttering in her heart.

He spoke up. "I was wrong."

Vera wanted to put a pressure on his wound carefully, reaching behind his head, but his other hand stopped her. She frowned at him.

"I was wrong," he repeated, sightless gaze burning into her eyes, irises covered in fog, "it was your fault."

---

She jolted awake, deafening scream on her lips. Picture of dead Matt Murdock swam in front of her eyes as she glared in the dark. She felt tears streaming down her face, her lungs fighting for air, feeling like she was drowning.

'I was wrong. It was your fault,' whispered the voice in her ears intrusively, repeating the words over and over again.

She had got him killed. She had failed. Collins was free and he had killed Matt.

Against her cold tears, she felt a light warm touch. She blinked furiously, the horror image slowly fading away.

"...Christ, Vera."