cuts ✧ matt.murdock

bedside manners

I was in and out of consciousness for a while before I heard a distinct clatter on the fire escape. I was praying that it was Murdock, but it could've been any of the other dickheads that wanted me dead. You never know with these sort of things.

I felt the back door get kicked open, and by the soft thud of the person that had entered, I knew it was Murdock. That, and the fact that he was calling out my name.

"Moretti? I'm here! This better be important or-" He stopped quickly after hearing my groans. He probably smelt blood in the air as well. Some bullshit like that would be accurate. "Shit..." He muttered as he walked from his entrance to where I laid, I backed up against the kitchen counter as he stumbled down to me.

"Hi." I winced in pain as he sat down across from me, ready to help.

"Geez, what happened?" He grimaced, trying to imagine what could do this to me.

"Some idiot Russians at the hospital," I explained, and he offered his help as I got up. I graciously took it, putting all of my weight in his hands. Soon, he was carrying me, bridal style, to the couch.

"You walked from the hospital to here? When?" He laid me down gently.

"Last night..."

"You've been sitting in your kitchen since last night? How did you even get back?"

"I don't know, but I was knocked out for most of the night."

"Do you want me to do a concussion test?" He tilted his head in question.

"No need," I tried to readjust my position but I just cried out in pain at my failure. "I know I have one."

"You should've stayed at the hospital and gotten help, Moretti."

"Says the man that has a secret nurse patching him up all the time." I cursed, remembering what the men were speaking about last night. "Wait! Is Claire okay? They took her, right?" I tried to get up but he quickly came to my side and stopped me from doing so.

"Don't move, okay!" He kneeled next to me, examining my wound.

"What are you? A doctor?" I winced in pain, yet again.

"No, but I can hear your broken ribs, hairline fractures along the shoulders, and a punctured lung." Knew it. "How are you still breathing?" He asked with a shocked look on his face.

"I don't know." I did.

"I need to get you help Moretti." He lifted my shirt to feel my injured spot.

"Woah! Easy there Mister!" I tried to squirm away but immediately regretted it.

"Don't move!" He exclaimed, feeling for any further damage. "Don't breathe so heavily Moretti, it will only make it worse."

"Well, I can't really help it, Murdock." I tried to shorten my breaths, but before I could, Murdock started to press on my broken ribs. I cried out in pain as he did so, but he just moved on to the next area. "What are you doing?!" I screamed as he continued.

"Checking where they are broken, and where they are bruised." He explained, continuing in his excruciatingly painful ways. I thought he could hear them?

"Punctured lung?"

"Sort of, not punctured, but scraped. But, if you don't get treatment soon, I think you may get some form of pneumothorax."

"I would prefer if my lung didn't collapse..." I muttered, almost passing out from all the pain I was experiencing.

"Moretti?" Murdock looked at me with a worried face. "Hey! Stay with me! Keep your eyes open!"

"I..." I tried to continue, but I wasn't doing well. I needed meds or something because enduring that amount of pain was not good for a concussion.

"Moretti..." He tried to get my attention, but it wasn't going to happen. I was blacking out; again!

--

"Jesus Christ! What happened to her?" I heard a female's voice in the back of my mind.

"Russians, at least that's what she told me. I'm not sure she was in her right mind though."

"Well, she has a heavy concussion, considering she's been passing out as much as you've told me..." The lady, I had gathered, was Claire.

"I don't know how she can endure this much pain... Maybe she is some sort of double agent."

"Double agent?" Claire was obviously shocked as to Murdock conclusion, which was wrong. "Maybe she is a CIA undercover agent."

"She is the head detective, and being a young woman in the position- she must have secrets." The vigilante turned his head to me as I started to properly gain consciousness. "Oh shit, she is waking up."

The two came over to me, and as I slightly tilted my head, I saw that I was in Murdock's apartment. How did he get me from my apartment to his?

"Easy!" The nurse tried to stop me moving as I tried to wiggle out of the bed I was laying in. "I guess all of us have gotten the bad end of the Russians. If there is even a good one." She looked me up and down as I did so too.

"More than once..." I muttered as Murdock gave me a strange look.

"You need to explain a couple of things, Moretti..." He basically threatened as I groaned through even more waves of pain. "Claire?" He asked, listening to my heartbeat or some bullshit like that.

"Yeah?" She had bruises and cuts on her face, due to whatever the Russians did to her.

"Can anything in this house be used to stop pneumothorax?" No fucking way Murdock.

"Uh- yeah... If you want to get creative... Why?"

He pointed to my continuous cries of pain as Claire muttered some profanities. "Told you," Murdock muttered to me as I felt contraction like pains in my rib area.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me." I cried as I clutched my chest.

"Okay Mike, you're gonna have to be very precise. Because there is no way... I'm not doing this."

"Well, you can tell me how." I could barely focus on what Murdock and Claire were saying, but that didn't mean I was happy with them.

"I-" Claire started, but had a fight with herself mid-argument.

"What do I need?" Murdock asked frantically as I started to decline.

"Ugh... something that can be inserted in-between the tissue in the lungs. You n-need to get the air out of there." By that point, I was practically screaming out in pain. The thing was, my screams were not producing any sound. My lung was starting to collapse, and I wasn't ready.

I couldn't really pay attention to whatever they were saying anymore, but I felt Claire squeeze my hand as Murdock came back from wherever the fuck he was.

"I-if you stick a straw in my lung Murdock, I swear to god." I barely got out as I heard a stressed laugh.

"Just breathe Moretti." He tried to assure me, but I heard the nervousness in his voice.

"Okay, you want to push it in," Claire prodded me, showing Murdock how to do whatever shit he was about to do. "Right there. Then you are gonna twist the lid off..." She continued, but my focus strayed as I thought about what would happen if Murdock failed. Probably death.

As I started to lose my breath, even more, I felt a sharp object pierce into my skin and through the tissue in an organ. For some reason, I felt a sense of euphoria; like I was being dragged towards that white light that everyone talked about. Before it pulled me all the way in, I was brought back to reality. I saw the figures of the two next to me but fell out of consciousness. It had been happening a lot today.