Blinded || Daredevil (Old)

-3-

"I do it for the money."

— — — —

Today's day of work was uneventful, nothing interesting happened at all. So, when Foggy had the chance to let Y/n free of her shift, he did. She was grateful to him for doing so, mainly because she had another job... It's been getting busier by the day with all of her night jobs. She did her usual routine of putting on her nightclothes before she left — her window was left slightly open for her to get back.

Y/n's legs had their own mind as they dragged her to the house she needed to be at. Tonight was different from any other — she needed to get a confession from a murderer... and he happened to be the same man that was in their case from today. He got away from court and somebody was truly upset about that; she would be too. This man belonged in the seventh circle of Hell.

She saw the dirtied house of the man and made her way to an open window — unknowingly going into a trap set by the Devil. He had guessed that someone would've called Wings for this man, and he was proven right when he heard the light steps of the other vigilante.

Y/n walked quietly through the halls of the house and checked every room, only to find nothing. This was strange to her. Was she set up?

Breathing.

She heard it from around the corner — it had a familiarity to it, but she couldn't place it. This wasn't the man she was after, so it had to be a man of Fisk. She continued on her trek and caught on the arm that was thrown at her, allowing her to see the black mask of the Devil. She let out a groan as she pushed the man back.

"You set me up!" She told him, her voice was high before deepening — always playing around her natural voice. "I need a confession from him!"

"The law could do something about him," he tried explaining to her again. She clicked her tongue at his rambling.

"And it did nothing to him! He got away! He was voted innocent by the court. He needs to be in the seventh circle of Hell! And Hell's Kitchen ain't it," she yelled at him, her emotions almost getting the better of her. She swung at the man; she needed to find the murderer. Devil Boy dodged the throw and caught her arm, holding it between both of his arms — barely leaving any room for her to move. She fought against his hold, "You seem to be doing good after I stabbed you."

"You needed me to live," he told her, catching her off guard.

"And why would I do that? You always get in my way," she recoiled, spilling a lie.

"Why would I do that?"

"To keep me from going down the path you're on currently," she answered with the best thing she could think of.

"I've never killed anybody."

His voice was stern as he looked down at her, but she wasn't looking at him. She was trying to find a way out of his hold, "I do it for the money." She twisted her arms from his grip and kicked him in his chest; the feeling of a cracked rib was felt against her foot as she flipped back. He moved a hand to his ribs and placed it perfectly over the rib. She watched as he planned on what to do — leaving an opportunity for her to run.

And she did exactly that.

She went out the same window she entered and hid beside the corner of the house. His steps grew louder before he hopped through the window and stopped — seemingly trying to find her. Her breathing became light as she watched him look around. Her footsteps were light as she backed away before running into a fence. Before she could think, she shifted to a raccoon.