Hellcat

Chapter 71

I sat in the chapel, waiting. I wasn't sure who I was waiting for, but I knew it when I saw Sister Maggie. She approached me with a soft smile. "Hello, Allison. It's good to see you again," she greeted gently, standing near the end of the pew I was sat in. I pressed my lips together before sucking in a shuddering breath and turning my gaze on her.

"Is he here?" I asked her, voice meek and broken. She looked at me with confused eyes. "I know he's alive, Sister, and I know he's been here. So, tell me, is Matt here?" I asked. My tone grew harsher the longer I spoke, and Maggie's eyes darkened with sadness. No, not sadness – regret. "No, not right now," she answered truthfully. I felt like it was the first truthful thing she had said to me in months.

Another shudder ran through me as the tears welled up, stinging at the back of my eyes. "You and Father Lantom... you knew the whole time." Regret passed through her eyes as she lowered her gaze to the floor, hands clasped together in front of her. "You knew what I was going through – saw it almost every day – and you said nothing. For months, you let me suffer and grieve for a man who wasn't really dead."

There was no malice in my voice, though I wanted there to be. I wanted to be angry at her. I wanted to be angry with Father Lantom. They had let me suffer. They could have ended my pain, and they hadn't. But in truth, the only person I could be mad at was Matt himself for not coming to me. Or, if he couldn't come himself, sending one of them to me. They could have let me know he was alive. They could have brought me to him, and I wouldn't have gone through hell to try and heal myself.

"Walk with me," Maggie spoke suddenly gentle, yet firm. I didn't argue, just stood from the pew, and followed her through a side hallway. She led me to a set of stairs that went down, and I was struck by the memory of them. These were the same stairs from junior prom. As we entered a large space, I saw the old sink, laundry room, and the old bed. It all looked just like that night when the two of us were young, giggling, drunken idiots hiding from the nuns, including Sister Maggie.

"At first, we kept him in the orphanage, so we could keep a closer eye on him. But the children got curious, so we moved him down here," Maggie explained as she went around the space, stopping in the middle. "'And some bloody their fists trying to keep the Kitchen safe,'," Maggie quoted to me as I moved around the space, examining the content. She spoke when my fingers had brushed across a stack of braille bibles.

I froze at her words, turning to face her. "My friend wrote that," I muttered to her. "Karen Page, yes. It was in her piece on Daredevil and Hell Cat," Maggie confirmed with a small nod, hinting that she knew the truth. Not just about Matt, but about me as well.

"He's a complicated man, isn't he?" she asked, taking a step towards me. I scoffed at her words, shaking my head. "Not when you can see it from his perspective," I huffed out as I flopped down on the old bed, the springs groaning loudly in protest. Maggie's lips turned up slyly at the corners, and I knew that she understood how I could say that.

"I've read quite a few of your friend's articles the last few days, trying to find some insight," Maggie offered, coming to stand near me. "Honestly, Daredevil is easy to understand. Matt Murdock is the mystery," I grumbled. She shook her head at me, small smirk still in place. "They're one and the same. It's like saying you, Allison Drake, are not Hell Cat," she countered. I huffed out a sigh but nodded in agreement. She was right, that was for sure.

Sighing, I dropped my head in my hands, rubbing at my temples where a headache was beginning to form. "Wears you out, doesn't it? Saving him from himself," she spoke up. Another heavy sigh escaped me as I lifted my gaze to hers. "Yeah. But he didn't give up on me when my demons reared their ugly heads," I told her.

I remembered the night I killed that Russian. The night that I had scrubbed blood off my skin for what felt like forever before he showed up. the night I had completely broken down. "I'm drowning and I can't get out. Please don't let me drown, Matt. Please don't let me drown." He had held me. he'd been there, and he'd let me cry.