cuts ✧ matt.murdock

personal grudges

(AN: SORRY IT HAS BEEN SO LONG SINCE I UPDATED IVE BEEN SO BUSY AND THE CHAPTERS THAT I HAD LINED UP SLOWLY FADED AWAY BUT IM BACK WITH AN EXTREMELY BAD AND ANNOYING CHAPTER WITH A LOT OF POINTLESS DIALOGUE OK ILL STOP SCREAMING THANK YOU)


"This is..." I sighed as Murdock put the Russian's body down on the floor. "Just great. This is definitely what I wanted to happen."

"Is your problem the cops?"

"More of... more of you." I stumbled, then adding; "And the explosion. It sounded like all of Hells Kitchen was attacked."

"Yeah." Murdock looked down at his feet. Was he blaming himself, or was he just worried?

"We're lucky we didn't get spotted on the way to... wherever the hell this is." I looked around the abandoned warehouse. "People like us take the shadows for granted..." I trailed off, taking a few more steps into the ruin-like building.

"People like us?" Murdock almost insinuated, and I didn't like it. I probably shouldn't have used that term.

I kicked a stick as I turned around to the vigilante. "Let's focus on other things, like what we are gonna do with the dying Russian." I pointed over to the 'heap of bastard' on the floor.

"He's been shot."

"Congratulations on your groundbreaking discovery." I sarcastically clapped for the blind man. "Why didn't you just leave him for the cops ?"

"Becuase we need information, and they would've killed him. They were dirty."

"No shit..." I had many questions. "So can we kill him? Or... leave him to die." I sweetened up the offer a bit as to please the almost growling man. "Fine. No killing. But when we hand him in, they will kill him for us." I answered as he crossed his head.

"That's why we will hand him to the right people." He reasoned, but I just folded my arms in protest.

"Right people? As in me? Yeah..." I laughed. "I don't think I'll have any choice over the matter if the system is as corrupt as I think it will be- is. It is corrupt." I corrected myself. The events of the night had changed my mind about a lot of things, especially my intel. Everything was scrambled, and I didn't know what to believe.

I sighed, cursing myself as I went to pick up the Russian. I struggled but eventually hoisted him on my back.

"Where are you taking him?"

"Higher up. They have a sweep, judging by the sound of helicopter blades near the block. If, and when they find us, I'd prefer it not to be right by the front door."

"Whatever you say." Murdock agreed, but there was still a solemn tone in his voice

"A little help would be nice," I muttered as I walked to the unstable stairs that I thought might lead up to a higher level.

"I just want to see how a 120-pound girl can carry a burly Russian." He smirked, and I growled.

"Watch me." I scoffed, pushing through the strain of the man on my back. "Like you'd know my weight. You have super... whatever, but not the power of correct guessing."

"I did carry you across the city when you were... dying. And now you're not." He went back to the formidable topic of my miraculous recovery.

"It's a miracle." My fake smile was accompanied by a sarcastic tone. These stairs were more rickety then I had anticipated.

"Well, the quick healing is. The strength is just weird." He looked me up and down as I continued to take one step at a time, halfway up by now.

"Okay, that's nice and all, but I'm still recovering." I winced as I was reminded of the painful tension. "Not 100% yet, so help would be much appreciated."