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whyisnicole · 5 years ago

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Show Me Your Darkness - Chapter 3

Hi guys! I just wanna say thank you so, so much to everyone who checked out chapter 1! I really, truly hope that you like it, and lemme know what you think!

PLEASE NOTE TRIGGER WARNINGS: Do not read if you are sensitive to suicidal tendencies or suicide in general. This fic contains themes of torture, depression, and language. It picks up but please be cautious of these things <3

"I'm just sayin', YN, you know I've got the room. I think you and Alex would make quite the nice pair of… roomies, hmm?"

You give a humor-filled scoff and your friend, Alex, flips a not-so-sarcastic sarcastic "fuck you" to the red and black clad buddy that you've somehow unwillingly, yet gratefully, acquired.

Your days following HYDRA had been anything but easy - but you weren't the kind of person to simply lay down and die. Literally.

Not only had you managed to free yourself from the imprisonment of a never ending life-sentence as some foreign army's personal test subject, you'd discovered exactly what it was that made you so damn special. You had the power of manipulation - the power of control. Whether it be emotions, matter, life itself, or the body-sized black wings that you could expose or tuck away at any given time, you finally were able to be the one in control.

There was only one side effect:

You couldn't stay dead.

Whenever you would die, you would come back within a matter of minutes, and you've had more than a fair share of time to test that fact. You'd been low after escaping the taught hold of your previous prison; after all, who wouldn't have been? You never truly remembered a time where you had anything, but now you were all on your own. Simply some freak with giant wings who was brand new to her powers - which meant you couldn't control the fact that you could control everything…

And you couldn't handle it.

You did everything you could.

Pills.

Asphyxiation.

Slicing and Dicing yourself until you couldn't move.

Throwing yourself off from any height you could find.

You basically gave Wade Wilson himself a run for his money, and unsurprisingly found that nothing ever worked.

You'd always wake up again, gasping for breath and remembering simply closing your eyes, praying they wouldn't ever open again. But they always did.

It was during one of your famous drowning attempts that you'd met a girl named Alex.

You were standing on the edge of some bridge, no cars passing, no life in sight; just the sound of rushing water beneath your swaying form. All alone, enjoying the quiet serenity and brief peace that was brought to you… Until you heard her. Some chick, bounding towards you and stopping a good thirty or so feet away, screaming out to you, desperately trying to get your attention. You remember her dark features illuminated under the soft light of the street lamp. You remember her standing at a far enough distance yet she was still all too close. You remember the panic in her troubled eyes and the way the wind tussled and whipped around her shoulder length curly black hair as she held her worn jacket close to her body in an attempt to shield herself from the nipping breeze.

And you distinctly remembered telling her to stay away.

You had told her to stay back,

"You need to leave."

"I can't do that…"

"Forget you ever saw this and Just go!"

That you hadn't wanted to hurt her like you hurt everybody else,

"You don't know what I've done!"

"It doesn't matter!

"Yes it does! And if you don't back the fuck up, turn around, and get the hell out of here, then you're just gonna be another victim of me!"

But did she listen?

Fuck no.

So you didn't listen to her telling you to back away and rethink whatever problem it was that you were facing.

You slightly believed her when she said that you could get through this, but only because you knew, deep down, that you'd live. But you were just done with the conversation.

So you did what you'd grown to do best and simply just left…

You jumped.

Feet leaving the pavement as the harsh cold graced your face, and the sensation of tranquility, of freedom coursed through your body.

You felt the smack of the water and a moment of old, but then nothing.

Until you felt everything again.

You jolted awake, spewing water from your lips as you felt the rhythmic pounding on your chest come to a sudden halt.

Alex.

That stupid, idiotic badass had climbed down and catapulted herself into freezing water to save your ass that didn't even need saving.

From that day on you knew you weren't getting rid of her anytime soon, and you'd grown to be beyond grateful for that.

Since the nearly five years that you'd been introduced into each-others lives, you'd learned a lot about one another. You'd learned what made each-other tick, what made each-other happy, mad, sad, and all of the in-between's, and you'd learned each-others secrets. You'd learned everything about what went into making you guys the people that you are now. She knew what you were, and you knew that she was an underestimated genius that could give the best of the best a run for their money - even if she did do some stupid shit now and then.

And you'd also learned that people suck.

You have a small group of close-knit friends that you considered to be more like a family than anything else.

You have a place to lay your head and the best roommate and friend that you could ever ask for.

And you'd also discovered that you do indeed have a purpose. You still struggled with the belief that you're just some freak - some strange phenomenon that doesn't deserve to see the light of day after doing what you've done and being capable of doing the things that you can do, but that's where your new found family came in. Always there to pick you up and dust you off during the worst of times, as you had learned to do for them as well.

You were set.

"Well that's very sweet of you, Wade," Said Alex, bringing you back to the present conversation; "But I think we're quite set here. Nobody to bother us, nobody to try and get me to hack into all the extra channels on their TV, nobody to relentlessly be shot down time after time by YN…"

Wade gasped in mock offense at the painfully hilarious rejection from Alex.

You'd be lying if you said moving in with Wade didn't appeal to you, but you hated to take. And, while you knew you could trust him with your life, and that he would never ask anything for crashing at his place, the "Friendly Neighborhood Deadpool" was fun to watch when he was determined and constantly rejected.

And, besides that, you were content. All you wanted was a place to crash with your most trusted friend, and to be able to fulfill your purpose. To be able to do good with the hand that you've been dealt.

And you had that.

Was it some random, abandoned government-owned home?

Yes.

But was it just you and Alex?

Yes.

And though you wouldn't mind having a third roomie, you knew that Alex and Wade would probably kill each-other if they didn't have at least a nightly break. And you were comfortable. You'd never ask for anything other than livable, and you'd never ask anyone to inconvenience themselves for your pleasure.

It just wasn't you.

"How dare you?" Wade gasped, hands against his cheeks as he feigned disgrace.

You and Alex can't to anything aside from burst out in laughter as Wade simply stood up and shook his head.

"Alright, alright you two. You've won this round. But don't pretend like I'm stupid, I know why you two want your own place… And just remember, I'm more than okay with bringing the party back to my place. Last thing I'd mind is joining in with Steph and Lena."

Wade returns the friendly fire and is simply met with a chorus of "Piss off, Wade" and "Fuck you, Pool" as he makes his was out of the run down home.

"I'm just sayin'," he says behind his masked smirk.

"But seriously, you need anything, you call. Got it, missies?" He questions.

As annoying as he was persistent, Wade truly does care and was always going to be there for both you and Alex. You knew that you'd not only gained a sister, but an overly-nosey and annoying protective older brother. The night you'd met Wade was just as intense as the night you'd met Alex.

It was roughly two years ago after a late-night mission had gone south for you that the red spandex wearing vigilante had caught the tail end of your fight with a neighborhood trouble maker that did a little more than steal a candy bar here and there.

You'd heard and seen evidence of this particular asshole dealing around in the matter of underground drug cartel operations, and you'd finally gotten a hold of his whereabouts.

You knew it was stupid and risky, but he'd slipped from your grasp before and you couldn't let that happen again.

You'd been working with a "team" - that team consisting of yourself, a blind badass who went by the alias of "Daredevil" as opposed to his day name of Matthew, and some tough guy named Frank with a vengeance and skillset that you never wanted to find yourself on the wrong end of. His given name of "The Punisher" was there for a reason after all…

At the time, you were just working with them to simply get the case over with, but little did you know that those two gents would quickly become a special part of your tight-knit, dysfunctional family.

But they were lagging, and you were ready; just not as ready as you thought.

It had been a couple of years ago, and you still hadn't mastered your technique yet, and not much has really changed, you've just gained a lot of practice and experience since then.

You'd managed to off the crook, but you'd taken a hell of a beating at the same time. And, while you couldn't technically die, it still hurt like a bitch.

That's where the red-suited anti-hero named Wade Wilson, or "Deadpool", came into the picture.

Apparently the asshole you'd dispatched was on more than just one or two hitlists.

Wade had been hot on his tail, but managed to stumble across a beaten and bruised chick with wings, and the lifeless form of the prick he was targeting.

It was when Wade was scolding you about your techniques and making his classic witty remarks while carrying you home as you bled out in his arms that you knew you'd gained another accomplice...

And you were all the more grateful for him in the long run.

"We know, Wade. Thank you." You smile, giving him a small nod.

"Yeah, now get lost and go make a difference. Don't die too much." Alex sasses.

"Wouldn't make a difference!" Wade returns as he tries (and fails) to make a graceful and "cool" exit. He's never gonna learn that he's really better off walking away instead of trying some new trick that he swears he can master after watching one of those fail compilation videos.

He never masters it.

Ever.

"God, will he ever learn." Alex scoffs, tossing her head back and exasperatedly throwing her left arm over her face - her right one laying next to her, hand gently clasped around the neck of a bottle.

"Must you ask," you smile, "At this point I think your answer is pretty well clear."

The two of you share a laugh and Alex takes a short swig.

"Well," she says as she tosses the bottle outside of the half-way boarded up window in the run down living room;

"It's getting pretty late. I think I'm gonna head to bed. You gonna go do your thing?"

You take a moment to ponder before giving an affirming nod.

"Yeah, I'll go patrol for a bit. Check some things out, make sure nothing too crazy is going down tonight." You sigh, groaning as you pull yourself up off of your dingy pallet on the hard cement floor.

"It's Hell's Kitchen, Y/N. Crazy is a side effect here." Alex's scoffs as she cleans up her sleeping area a bit - dusting off the blankets and fluffing her pillow as much as possible before taking a seat on top of the freshly-made little nest atop a mattress stationed against the corner of the living room.

"I can't correct you there."

A sigh escapes your lips as you pull off your plain white, short sleeved V-neck, and slip on a long sleeved black one instead; followed by a zipped up olive cargo jacket and black knee high lace-up boots.

"That's cuz' I'm always correct." Alex retorts, a smirk painting her features bright.

"Yeah, yeah. Be home later. Stay safe and don't wait up." You smile, bidding Alex goodnight as you slip your phone into one of the zippers of your jacket and slide out the front door.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Alex smiles as she switches off the lantern sitting in-between your pallets, her glowing dark brown skin no longer illuminated by the soft yellow light. Tying her hair into the most perfected messy bun New York has ever seen, she wiggles herself in between the scratchy yet comforting blankets. Bidding you a silent goodnight, she whispers a quick prayer for protection and a safe night for the both of you before shutting her eyes and drifting to sleep after about half an hour of tossing and turning.

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ceterisparibus116 · 6 years ago

Note

Also on murdocklovespage’s post about you wanting prompts, they mentioned “What if Matt, Claire, and Stick were in a room together?” as a prompt and I want to see it

This is soooo late (I apologize) but I hope you like it!

Matt was trying—trying so hard and in so many ways. And thistime, it actually seemed like it was working.

Nelson and Murdock weren’t back together, no. Elektra wasstill gone, yes. And Karen? She said she needed time. And space. But Foggyseemed to have forgiving him, or to be on his way there. Part of it probablyhad to do with no longer having the pressure of maintaining a business togetheron top of the pressure of maintaining their friendship. Most of it probably hadto do with Matt’s sincere and detailed apology, not given in the heat of anargument or as a desperate bid to fix things between them but just because Mattwas really, truly sorry. So at least Matt had Foggy again, even if not in quitethe same way as he was used to.

And he had his own small law practice where he didn’t have anyoneelse lecturing him on the merits of accepting homemade bread in lieu ofpayment. Or on the ethics of some extralegal problem solving. Mostly, heoffered a lot of unbundled services, which basically involved stepping in atdifferent points of the legal process. He helped one client file paperwork,showed up at court for another client who was worried about talking in front ofa judge. Unbundled services were a cheaper route for the clients who had some moneybut not enough to actually retain him. Meanwhile, he enjoyed getting to help whereverhe was needed most.

And Stick had completely disappeared.

So it was good, really. Things were good. Slowly but surely,he was rebuilding. And honestly? It was nice. He’d so thoroughly trashed hislife both professionally and relationally that appreciating all the littleblessings of a relatively normal life was as easy as breathing.

Easier than, actually, since his two cracked ribs currentlymade breathing…difficult.

But that was fine. Much less immediately worrying than theblood spilling from his arm over the tear in his suit. Matt couldn’t faultMelvin for it. The suit did a good job against knives, usually, but Matt’s ownbody weight was responsible for driving the broken glass into his arm after hejumped out of the window. Generally, Matt was pretty good at jumping out ofwindows. But he’d sort of gotten hit on the head immediately before his self-imposeddefenestration, which messed with his balance as he fell.

He was fine.

He was also, however, incapable of stitching his arm up onhis own, so he tugged his burner phone out of his pocket. He’d been trying notto call Claire, trying to give her space. But this was…this was a lot of blood,showing no signs of stopping anytime soon.

“Matt?” Her voice was sharp on the other end of the phone. “What’swrong?”

“Nothing, I just wondered if you were free.”

“Depends on how close you are to dying.”

He hated that she still saw herself first and foremost ashis healer. Nothing more. Then again, he pretty much shut her down every time sheattempted to offer anything more intimate than pure medical advice, so maybethat was on him. “Does bleeding out count as dying?”

She groaned into the phone. “Matt, get over here.”

“Thank you, Claire.” He began the trek back to her place,wincing at the throb in his skull. Concussion? Possibly? Probably?

Maneuvering himself onto her fire escape felt surreal,brought him back to a simple black suit and simpler times. He couldn’t bring himselfto long for the past, though. Back then, she hadn’t even known his name. Hehated that it’d taken her getting beaten by Russians for him to risk revealing himselfto her, which didn’t seem so different from how he hadn’t been able to tellKaren about Daredevil until after he’d ruined their relationship. It was a patternof his. One he wasn’t planning on repeating.

Through her window, he smelled spices from whatever she wascooking. For a moment, he just listened to her light footsteps as she moved aroundthe kitchen, audible under the pleasantly unobtrusive voice of a podcast. Buthe didn’t have much time to waste. He tapped on the window.

The podcast shut off and her footsteps approached. She slidthe window open and hissed in a breath. “You weren’t kidding about bleedingout.”

“S’not that bad.” He rolled his shoulder experimentally asif he could draw her attention to one of the few parts of his body that wasn’t injured. “Can I come in?”

“Yes, idiot.” She stepped aside, gave him room to slitherthrough the window. As soon as his feet landed, she put one hand on his goodarm and the other on his hip, steering him towards her couch so he could sit. “How’dthis happen?”

He wondered, not for the first time, if she was asking becausehis answer might inform his treatment or because she just wanted to know. Hetook off his helmet and she ran a hand through his hair like she couldn’t help smoothingit back into order. “Fell out a window.”

“Have you considered not doing that, maybe?”

“It was an emergency.”

Snorting, she gingerly felt along his arm. “So you alsolanded on the window, I assume.” She reached for her medical bag, which wassetting on the couch beside him even though it smelled of the closet. She’d hadto get it out for him. Or, depending on how you looked at it, she’d gotten itout just for him. “If you fell out a window, does that mean the bad guys arestill out there?”

His stomach tightened with the sense that he’d somehow lether down. “Yeah. They weren’t my priority.”

“Since when are bad guys not your priority? Brace yourself, I’mpulling this out in three, two—”

She slid the glass out of his arm and he closed his eyesagainst a wave of dizziness as fresh blood soaked his sleeve. Then he squeezedhis eyes shut tighter at the burn of the antiseptic, his whole body clenchingdespite his best efforts to stay still. His ribs made their protest known.

“What were they doing, anyway?” She poked the needle throughhis skin. “The bad guys, I mean.”

He breathed slowly through his nose. “Human traffickers.”

The needle paused for an instant. “Oh. And you didn’t tearthem limb from limb because…?”

Would she have wanted that kind of violence? “Had to get thekids out first.“

“Kids?”

Not all of them. Two or three were in their early twenties. ButMatt was willing to bet they’d been caught in forced prostitution since highschool. Maybe even middle school. One of the girls he’d found was only eleven.

He didn’t share that particular detail with Claire. Wasn’tsure he’d share it with anyone. “Yeah.” He gritted his teeth as string draggedunder his skin. “Had to stay until I knew they were out.” But there’d been toomany men in that warehouse for him to fight off on his own when they were comingat him all at once like that. Hence jumping out a window. He was just too tiredto explain that reasoning to Claire.

But she was no longer pushing him to justify himself. “Itmight be ironic to say this while I’m sopping up your blood, but I’m glad youwere there. For the kids.”

“I’ll go back later. Find the men responsible. See if I canget enough evidence for…” He shook his head, trailing off, distracted by the awarenessof just how difficult building a case against them would be. The victims werelong gone, and proving a sex crime beyond a reasonable doubt without a victim onthe stand was almost impossible.

He rubbed at his eyes. Not that he wanted any of the peoplehe’d rescued to have to go through the trauma of taking the stand. But thethought of their traffickers getting off on, what, kidnapping charges? It was enoughto make him wish, just for an instant, that he could operate a bit more likeFrank Castle.

No. He’dconsidered that route before, with Fisk. It wasn’t right.

“Matt?” Claire prompted.

“Huh?”

“You spaced out. I asked if there’s anything else I shouldknow about, since I’ve got you here.” She was running her hand up his arm,checking for breaks or something.

“No, that’s…that’s the worst of it.” He flexed the newlystitched-up arm. “Thank you.” Then he started to push himself to his feet.

She stood up at the same time. “You’re leaving?”

His smile probably looked a little too sad. “I didn’t meanto interrupt your night.”

“Well, you did,” she said simply, “so you may as well do itall the way. You want dinner?”

His mouth watered. “No, I’m fine. Thank you.”

“Hmm. I think you should eat.” She leaned closer and put herhand on his stomach.

He flinched automatically, his good arm twitching up toshield his ribs.

“I knew it,” shesaid.

“Knew what?” he asked helplessly.

“You were moving way too stiffly for only a stab wound. Sitdown.”

“You’re that familiar with how I move?” He returned slowly tohis seat, not quite able to feel reluctant about it.

“Too stiff and too sluggish at the same time. I have apretty good guess what else is wrong with you, but I’ll leave you to be honestwith me on your own.” She retrieved the binding from her bag. “How bad arethey?”

“Uh…”

“Breath out for me.”

Matt exhaled obediently and couldn’t help enjoying thefeeling of her hands on him, encircling his body with the wrapping above andbelow the injury. “The, uh—”

She shushed him, then tied off the wrapping. “Okay. Nowspeak.”

“The other thing might be a concussion. I think? Somethinghit me when I was leaving.”

“And by ‘leave’ you mean ‘throw yourself bodily out of a window,’right?”

He grinned. “If you wanna get technical about it.”

There was a clickas she turned on a light. “Lemme see your eyes.” Slipping her hand under hischin, she tilted his head the way she wanted it. “Yep, you look pretty messedup. How do you feel? Nauseated?”

He shook his head.

“Good. So you have no excuse not to let me feed you.”

“Claire, I—”

“Shh.” Her hand was still on his jaw. “Let me take care ofyou.”

Why was she being so kind to him? It wasn’t like he’dtreated her well recently. Ignoring all the help she offered, turning herhospital into a war zone, getting her friend killed. “Claire, I—”

“If you’re about to say you’re fine, I don’t wanna hear it.” She packed away her bag and headedinto the kitchen.

Getting unsteadily to his feet, he followed at a safedistance. “I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“That’s a first,” she said, but there was no bite to hertone as she stirred the soup on her stove.

“I’m sorry I kept pushing you away. It wasn’t fair after allyou’ve done for me.” He scratched at the back of his neck. “If it helps, I hatedevery second of it.”

“Well, that makes two of us.”

He wet his lips. “You were right, by the way. About me…becomingtoo much like the people I fight. I lost perspective.” He remembered bloodyfists and the snap of his wirecutting through Nobu’s neck.

“You don’t need to apologize to me for that.”

“But I want to.” He breathed in carefully, mindful of thetight binding around his ribs. “I should’ve listened. You deserved myattention. My trust. You deserved a…a conversation,at least.”

She didn’t say anything as she placed a bowl of soup infront of him.

“I shouldn’t have shut you out,” he finished quietly.

She still didn’t say anything for several long moments. Thenshe nodded once. “Thank you. Look, Matt, you’re your own person. It wasn’t myjob to…” She tipped her head back like she might find the words she was lookingfor on the ceiling. “Fix you, or something. So I’m sorry too.”

“Don’t be. Everything you said, I needed to hear it.”

“I’m just saying, maybe I should’ve been more patient. It wasjust hard for me, because…” She sighed. “I care about you, maybe too much.”

His stomach flipped at the present tense. “You weren’t theonly one fed up with me.”

“Right. And how is Foggy?” she asked carefully.

Of course. She knew Foggy. Weird that Claire, so firmlyassociated with his vigilante life, had mixed with Foggy, so firmly associatedwith the law, and he hadn’t even been there. “He’s good. Really good. Workingat a fancy law firm.”

“You don’t sound upset about that.”

“I’m not,” he said honestly. “It’s not the kind of lifestyleI’d want, but Foggy’s happy. And he still has a soul.”

Collecting her own bowl, she sat beside him. “How do youknow?”

He frowned, a bit confused why she was so interested in updatesabout Foggy. “We meet up. Talk about cases.”

“Did you ever apologize for not visiting him in the hospital?”she asked bluntly.

He felt himself flush. “Yeah.”

She waited a moment. “Good.”

What was that, some kind of test? If it was…he was prettysure he passed.

“What about you?” he asked tentatively. “How are…things?”

“Things,” she repeated, obviously unimpressed.

“I mean—” He broke off.

“Matt?”

“Shh,” he whispered.

“What?” she demanded, ever contrary.

“Someone’s coming.” He’d know that heartbeat anywhere. Hegot up from the stool, stood stiffly in the center of the room. “No, no, notnow.”

“Am I supposed to know why you’re freaking out?”

His hands curled into fists. “I’m so sorry, Claire. I’m so,so sorry. I didn’t…I didn’t realize he was following me.” Hadn’t even realizedStick was back in Hell’s Kitchen.

“How bad is it?” Claire sounded scared, but also like shewas trying not to be.”

He didn’t want to frighten her, but… “I don’t know,” he admitted.“It’s, uh, someone from when I was a kid. It’s the guy who trained me.”

She let out a whistle. “So, like, a superhero?”

“Ha,” Matt laughed grimly. “Stick’s not a superhero.” Hemoved to her front door. “He’s on the stairs.”

“But he’s a good guy, right?” She followed him, nervous butstill trying not to show it. “Right? Matt?”

“Not really,” he said heavily, resting his forehead againsther door. He couldn’t fight Stick like this, which…which…he shouldn’t have to,but Stick also shouldn’t be here atall.

His cane tapped along the stairs just outside her apartment.

Matt swore under his breath. “I’m gonna go take care ofthis.”

“Wait!” Claire grabbed his arm. It was his good arm, but hestill sucked in a breath as his ribs objected. “What’re you gonna do, pickanother fight?”

“If I have to.” He unlocked the door.

She slammed her shoulder against the door, shutting itfirmly. “Your mask’s on the floor.”

Right. Someone could see him. And now Stick was rightoutside. Planting his feet, Mat leaned against the door. “Stay back,” hewhispered.

Stick’s voice floated through. “Lemme in, Matty.”

It was enough to bring Matt back to a cemetery, standingover the grave of the woman he loved with the man who’d manipulated her intobecoming a weapon. Like he’d manipulated Matt.

“Matty,” Stick called.

“No está aquí,” Claire called back.

Matt sighed and wrenched the door open. “He can smell me.”

Stick wasted no time before strolling through, dropping hiscane by the counter. His left wrist was swollen. Sprained, maybe? “Anyone couldsmell you, Matty. Left a trail of blood thicker than a river. Might as wellhand out invites with her address on ’em.” He turned to flash Claire adangerous smile. “Nice to finally hear your heartbeat.”

That precious heartbeat sped up. “Excuse me?”

“Just that I’ve smelled you often enough, hanging out atMatty’s place.” He made a show of sniffing the air. “You’re a nurse. Or something. That explains somethings. Like why he’s still alive.” He slowly tilted his head. “And why you’realive too, I guess.”

“Is that a threat?” Claire asked in a low voice.

“No,” Matt said quickly. “He just has this stupid beliefthat anyone in my life will end up dead because of me.” Well, Matt wasn’tconvinced that it was actually such a stupid belief. But he told himself it wasstupid whenever it started echoing in Stick’s voice. He kept himself between them.“So you found me, Stick. Congratulations. What do you want?”

“It’s not about what I want, Matty. It’s about what youneed.”

“No. I don’t need anything—I’m done.” He risked a stepcloser. “We fought off the Hand, we buried the Black Sky. We’re done.”

“The Black Sky,” Stick said softly, bringing up his hand torest on Matt’s shoulder, his ancient fingers tapping against the thick materialof Matt’s suit. “How’re you doing with all that?”

“Fine,” Matt gritted out.

Stick jerked his chin at Claire. “Did he tell you his girlfriend’sdead?”

Claire’s lips parted.

It was like the broken piece of window was stabbing Matt’sheart instead of his arm. “She wasn’t—she wasn’t my girlfriend, Stick.”

“Oh, right, that was the other one. The reporter. Smellslike she cut you lose. Smart girl.”

“Don’t talk about her,” Matt snapped. “I gave you a chanceto tell me what you’re doing here, now—”

“Now what?” Stick drawled. “You’ll throw me out? You can barelystand up.” He took a casual step forward, like he was aiming to wander over tothe couch.

Matt shifted in front of him. “Leave.”

“If I do, it’s the same as leaving you and your new girlieto a horrible death.”

Claire stiffened, but she remained outwardly calm. As forStick, his heart beat steadily, but just because Stick believed something didn’tmean he wasn’t also insane. “Then Iwill deal with it,” Matt growled.

“No, you won’t,” Stick said derisively. “I heard you in thatwarehouse. You could barely get the kids out, and you left those men to keepdoing the same thing the second you look the other way. You’re not dealing withshit.”

“He saved those lives,” Claire cut in suddenly.

“Claire,” Matt warned.

“He saved those kids’ lives,” she insisted, edging up behindhim. “What’s your name? Stick? If you were there, why didn’t you jump in tohelp?”

Stick craned his neck like he could see past Matt standingbetween them. “Those kids, those men, it was all just a distraction. That’swhat keeps happening—he gets all caught up in all the wrong things, and as soonas the enemy strikes, he’s useless.” He paused. “I take it back. You can beuseful. You’d just be better off if you weren’t tied down by all that pity youcarry for every whimpering thing that’ll just die anyway once the war comes.”

Half of Matt’s brain was stuck on one single sentence—you can be useful. The other half wasfurious that Stick was still here. “WhateverI do, whatever I feel, it’s my business.”

“Until your bleeding heart gets you killed and I loseanother soldier.”

Suddenly, Matt was yelling. “Like you lost Elektra?”

Stick raised his voice to match. “We both lost her, and itwouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t dragged her off to save—”

“You knew she was the Black Sky—you would’ve killed her! Youtold me you would’ve—” He cut himselfoff, took a deep breath. “Are you back in this city because of some specificthreat or not?”

“I’m back because it’s time for you to get your head out ofyour—”

“Okay, great, we’re done.” Matt walked forward, straightinto Stick.

Stick didn’t budge. “The Hand’s coming. Whatever they’ve gotplanned, it’s big.”

“If they’re not here yet, I don’t care.” He shoved Stick.Stick shoved back, and Matt sucked in a breath as pain arced across his ribs.

“Matt.” Claire’s voice unsettled.

Stick drew his sword.

“Matt,” Clairegasped.

“Listen to your girlfriend, Matty. We need to have a chat.”

“Not my girlfriend, Stick.” Another shove.

Stick raised the sword, but didn’t strike with it. “If theHand comes back, you’ll just get her killed by playing around with her.”

See, that was the thing. That kind of logic made sense backhe was keeping everyone else tucked away in safe little boxes, boxes reservedfor best friends and secretaries and the kind nurse he had a crush on. Didn’twork so well for law partners who yelled at gang members and reporters who befriendedthe Punisher and the nurse who agreed to use her hospital for the Hand’svictims.

Actually, he should’ve known that logic didn’t work withClaire as soon as she pulled a masked vigilante out of her dumpster.

“Listen to me very carefully,” Matt said quietly. “I’ll doeverything I can to keep her safe. But if—if—somethinghappens to her, it’ll be because she decided that helping people is worth therisk. I definitely won’t keep her safer by staying away.”

Stick shrugged. “And then you’ll kill yourself when you loseher, and then I’ll lose you.”

Matt tilted his head. “And that bothers you,” he murmured. “Itbothers you because you broke your own rules. With me.”

“You’re useful,” Stick argued.

“You’re broken.” Another shove. Stick was at the threshold. “Iappreciate all you’ve done for me, I really do, but I don’t need you anymore.”

“Maybe not, but you will.”

Matt wanted to say, Youknow where to find me. But he also didn’t want to give Stick the slightesthint of permission. Not that Stick ever cared about permission. It felt like asmall victory to keep silent and just give him a final shove out the door.

“Take care of yourself, Matty.” Then Stick spoke a littlelouder, voice aimed at Claire. “I’ll see you around!”

“You won’t.” Matt shut the door. Locked it. Listened asStick hovered just outside.

Claire approached from behind him. “Is he still there?”

Matt didn’t move from his position. “Yeah.”

“And he can still hear me?” When he rolled his eyes inaffirmative, she put her mouth by the door. “Go put some ice on your wrist! Itlooks sprained!”

Matt shot her a look of exasperation. “What’re you—”

She pressed her hand to his mouth and cocked her head. Thenshe made a smug sound as Stick’s footsteps retreated.

Matt waited until he was mostly sure Stick was out of rangebefore finally stepping away from the door. “What was that about?”

“Bossing you around with concern over minor injuries hasalways been a surefire way to scare you off.”

“So you admit that a sprain is minor.”

“I admit that youthink a sprain is minor. Figured he’d have the same mentality.”

Matt stifled a grimace. “Yeah. We’re, uh…we’re a lot alike.”

“Not really.” Turning around to face him, she folded herarms. “Is he always like that?”

“Vaguely ominous? Pretty much.”

“I mean, is he always going on about how helping people isn’tworth it? Or how you’ll get people killed by playing around with them?”

He cringed at the phrase. “Yeah. He started in on that stuffback when I was a kid, when he was—”

“When you were a kid?”The shock in her voice was practically palpable.

Right. She was the first person since Elektra to know bothsides of his life, making it easy, sometimes, to forget how little she stillknew about him. “Uh. Yeah. He trained me to control my senses.” He paused. “Andto fight.”

“And he was telling you not to feel pity all the way backthen?” Her voice was tight with anger.

He wasn’t sure what to say that wouldn’t just make herangrier. “He wanted me to be a soldier.”

“Mierda,” shemuttered under her breath. “Explains a lot.”

What, exactly, did that explain? “It wasn’t that bad, Claire.In most ways, he saved my life. I could barely control my senses when my dadwas still alive. When I was in the orphanage, everything was too—”

“What orphanage?” Her voice was deadly calm.

Matt suddenly wished he was doing something. Eating, walking…evengetting stitched up would be preferable to just standing there, trying to fieldher questions. “St. Agnes.”

“I didn’t know,” she said softly.

“I didn’t tell you,” he countered, turning to shuffle backto his stool at her counter. Not that he was hungry anymore.

She followed, but didn’t sit. Instead, she stood close tohim, leaning against the counter across his legs. “Why didn’t he use his sword justnow?”

“Because he knows it would’ve killed me,” Matt said heavily.

“What?”

“It…it would’ve been a threat to you. So I wouldn’t havestopped fighting him.” Matt fidgeted with the material of his pants. “He didn’twant to lose me. Not before the war.”

“The war like…those ninjas who attacked the hospital?”

“Something like that.” He briefly closed his eyes. “If…ifthey come back, I’ll deal with it. I won’t drag you into it.”

She shook her head. “Like you told him, I’m here to helppeople.”

She was so…adjectives failed him. Matt swallowed. He’d toldStick she wasn’t his girlfriend. And she wasn’t.

But, oh, he wanted that. He still missed Elektra, and hestill missed Karen, but Claire…Claire was different. She wasn’t as destructiveas either of them and her moral compass was steadier than anything he’d everknown.

He still didn’t feel like he deserved her. Still didn’t wantto hurt her. But like everything else, that was her choice to make, not his. Andhe no longer believed the things Stick preached. So if he could bring her anyhappiness, any security, any…anything good, he’d do it. He cleared his throat. “Claire?”

“Mm-hmm?”

“Can I…can I take you to dinner?”

She held completely still.

He was such an idiot. “I wasn’t—I mean—you can say no, Ijust thought—”

“I hope you’re not insulting my soup. It’s my mom’s recipe.”

“It was delicious,” he said weakly.

“What is this, then? Payment for me taking care of you?”

All right, he could spell it out, if that was what shewanted. “A date, Claire. I’m…I’m asking you on a date.”

“Huh.” Her arms wrapped tighter around herself, but he heardher heartrate picking up. “You’re concussed. You sure even you know what you’resaying?”

“I’m sure,” he said immediately. “Very sure.”

“You’re not just sticking it to that old man?”

She wasn’t saying yes. But she wasn’t saying no. He movedcarefully closer, reached out, found her hand. “Claire,” he said softly. “I’vewanted this for a long time. And you were right, before, to say no. I wasn’t…I’mnot proud of who I was.” He hesitated. “In many ways, I’m not proud of who I am.But—”

“I am,” she interrupted. “I’m proud of you.”

That right there was more disorienting than the hit to thehead. “What?”

“I’m proud of you,” she said simply. “And I can’t…I can’tpromise you more than a date, not yet, but—”

His heart leapt and he felt dizzy for very new reasons.

“I like Middle Eastern food.”

He was already nodding. “I can do that.”

“I have Thursdays off.” Suddenly, she was speaking veryfast. “Usually. Unless they need me, but I usually get a heads up. I’ll callyou if I can’t make it.”

“This Thursday?”

“Can we?”

He grinned. “Yeah. This Thursday. I know a great place.”

“I’ll trust your judgement.”

She trusted him. “Claire.”He said it just to savor the fact that he could. Drawing closer, he brushed thetips of his fingers against her wrists, then skimmed his hands up her arms torest on her shoulders. “Thank you. For everything.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “It was my pleasure.”

No lie, no lie in her heartbeat. One of his hands he slid overto the back of her neck; with the other, he lightly touched her lower lip.

She rose up on her toes to meet him with a kiss.

#Matt Murdock #claire temple #clairedevil #matt x claire #Daredevil #fic prompt

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fandoms-archive-blog · 8 years ago

Text

Best Nap Ever

Harrison Osterfield ~ Tom Holland Fan Club

Prompt: You find a nap buddy that doesn’t want to nap anymore as much as you beg him to.

Requested by: @tanovic54321 wanted a fluffy Harrison imagine so

Written By: Head Honcho - Zoe

Reader: Could be any

Warning: Fluff, long af

A/N: Inspired by the episode in FRIENDS when Joey and Ross take a nap together. Also, I called that ‘fancy’ chair that actors get (the wooden foldable chair with the black ‘padding’ a director’s chair. Idk, I googled what it was but it was just that.

======

“Gotta head to set.” Tom stretches as he stands up from your couch.

“Aw.” You frown, pausing the scary movie Tom thought it would be smart to watch. “You guys are going to leave me in such a vulnerable state?” You pout out your bottom lip as they make their way towards the door.

“Harrison can stay.” Tom offers, you smile while Haz’s eyes widen.

“Really?” You gape, holding a pillow to your chest.

“Yeah, yeah.” The brunette nods, sending a smirk to his friend. “I’ll shoot you a text if I need a coffee or something.” He hits his arm and walks out of the trailer, closing the door behind him.

Harrison runs a hand through his hair, wondering how Tom figured out the crush he had be harboring on you for the last few months. He just pushes his thoughts away and plops back down on the couch.

You just dismiss the extra space he put between the two of you and press play on the movie. Not even a few seconds later a guy with chainsaw shows up on screen as he cuts into someone’s stomach causing you to let out a loud scream.

“How ‘bout we not watch this?” Harrison suggests while grabbing the remote off the coffee table and turning to the Netflix menu. You furiously nod your head while grasping onto the blanket.

Few Hours Later

You let out a yawn as you reluctantly wake up from the best nap you’ve ever had. Your neck doesn’t feel the usual strain when you wake up, your back isn’t in knots, and your body isn’t cold from forgetting a blanket. You just feel well rested, something you haven’t felt in a while.

You try to flip onto your side but you get anchored by a body on top of yours. You furrow your eyebrows, trying to figure out who it is but then you realize who it is.

“Haz.” You call, your voice a bit gruff. “Harrison.” You shake him a bit but soon stop because of his body is kind of on top of yours.

“Mhmm?” He hums, nuzzling his head back into your chest while his arm tightens around your waist. After a few seconds of his mind being conscious, he realizes the position he’s in and rushes off of you causing him to fall.

“Harrison.” You gasp, his body making a painful ‘thump’ as he hits the floor. “Oh my god, are you okay?” You look down at him.

“Yeah, yeah.” He nods, his voice strained from the impact on his chest... and because of the embarrassment.

“Are you sure?” You sit up as he slowly stands back up.

“Yeah.” He nods, smiling down at you with a red face. “It’s just... sorry for falling asleep on you.” He apologizes.

“It’s fine.” You awkwardly smile, not making eye contact with him. “We both kind of dozed off so...”

“Yeah.” He nods again with his hands on his hips.

Silence falls between the two of you, neither of you wanting to make eye contact.

“Well, I’m going to go.” Haz points his thumb behind him and turns to head out.

“Yeah.” You breathe.

About a Week Later Your Apartment (That was provided for your stay during filming)

You set down the bowl of popcorn you were munching on on the couch next to you were sitting as the echo of someone knocking at the door catches your attention.

Your bare feet pad against the hard wood floors. You feel a chill run up your body as the coldness of wood runs up your body, the shorts and the baggy sweatshirt not providing much heat.

You open the door to be met with the godforsaken blonde that you haven’t be able to keep out of your mind.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” His mouth turns up into a polite smile before the awkward silence falls over you guys again.

“So, what are you doing in my neck of the woods?” You ask, trying to lighten the mood.

“Oh, uh. Tom sent me over here to drop off the plates the cookies you brought to set the other day.” He explains. “So... here.” He holds out said items toward you.

“How sweet.” You smile, grabbing the plates from him. “As long as you’re here and I assume Tom is filming, do you want to hang out for a bit?” You offer. “I haven’t been called to set for the last couple days and I’m feeling kind of lonely.”

“Sure I can hang out for a bit.” He hesitantly agrees, you suppress your grin. “Well, I’ll send Tom a text to see. I don’t know if he still needs me on set.”

You nod in understanding then walk away to go set the dishes in the kitchen, Harrison following you.

You set the plates in the sink and turn around to see him typing away at his phone while leaning against the counter. You take his distraction as an opportunity to take in his appearance.

His dark blonde hair is messily tousled to the side; probably from him running his hand through it every so often, he’s wearing a thin dark blue shirt that hugs his biceps very well, a pair of tan trousers, and some black converse.

“Harrison.” You softly call, your eyes wandering back up to his face.

“Mhmm?” He hums and looks up from his phone.

You lick your lips as you have a small debate in your mind.

“I think we need to talk about the other da--”

“No.” Haz’s face flames up and he tries to hide it with a facepalm. “It was an accident and it won’t happen again. We were both tired an--”

“No, look.” You cut him off, he clenches his jaw and looks down at his feet. “That was the best nap I’ve ever had and I know it was the best nap you’ve ever had too.”

Harrison sets his hands on the counter behind him and shakes his head while licking his lips. “I’ve had better.” He confidently informs.

You let out a breathy scoff. “When?”

“When I’m home in my own bed cuddled up with my dog-- Alright! Alright!” He breaks and hides his tomato-red face. “It was the best nap I’ve ever had!”

“I told you!” You exclaim.

“But we can’t do it again.” He adds, you frown and cross your arms. “That was the first and last time.” He insists, you shake your head.

“But I wanna do it again.” You pout like a child.

“No, we can’t!” He repeats.

“Why not?”

“It’s...” He hesitates. “It’s weird.”

“Ughh.” You throw your head back and groan. “Fine.” You let it go as silence fills the room. “Do you just want to a movie or something then?” You suggest, walking toward the living room.

“Sure.” He pushes off the counter and follows you to the couch.

“What do you want to watch?” Harrison asks as you flip through Netflix.

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “Maybe a nice documentary about snails and how they survive in the--”

“(Y/N)!”

“Fine, we’ll watch Daredevil” You sigh.

Few Days Later

“Hey, Haz.” You catch his attention as he awkwardly stands off to the side, trying not to interfere with filming. “Come here.” You wave him over.

“Yes?” He says once he has walked into your set bedroom.

“Since Tom is still in makeup, do you want to run over the scene with me real quick?” You ask, patting a spot on the bed right next to you. Harrison nods and takes a seat next to you.

“Start...” You hand him the script and point to a line. “...here.”

“I--”

“Wait!” You cut him off. “We got to get into position.” You inform, he furrows his eyebrows.

“What position?”

“What position?” You scoff, he shrugs. “Lemme show you.” You mumble before climbing to the top of the bed, laying down with your head resting on the pillows. “Come ‘mere.” You command, patting the space above your heart.

Harrison hesitantly scoots up on the bed more and carefully rests his head on your chest. His body stiffens when you wiggle around a bit to get comfortable, which might include you wrapping an arm around his torso.

“Now, stop being awkward and wrap your arm around my waist then sleep.” You say as you put his arm around your waist. Once he realizes what you said and what position you’re in, he quickly sits up.

“Not today, Satan!” He exclaims, pushing on the bed to get up while you pathetically reach for him.

“Harrison!!!!” You call after him but he continues to run away.

Later That Day

“Wow.” You yawn, stretching your arms out while arching your back. “All that acting we did today... it got me real tired.” You shake your head as you stand up from your director’s chair.

“Yeah?” Zendaya raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” You nod. “I’ma go take a nap in my trailer...” You announce, taking a subtle glance at Harrison. “...if anyone needs me.”

“Jesus, you take more naps than a cat.” Tom comments, you just ruffle his hair as you walk past him, feeling a pair of eyes on you as you go.

5 Minutes Later

“You feelin’ alright, Haz?” Tom questions, noticing his friend’s strange behavior.

“Hmm?” He stops staring at the ground to look up at him.

“Are you feeling okay?” He repeats. “You seem a bit dazed.”

“Actually,” He lets out a breath while rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. “I’m feeling a bit under the weather. I think I ate something rank this morning.”

“Probably the eggs Tom cooked.” Jacob suggests.

“Hey!”

“I’m sorry but they were not cooked through at all.” He counters causing Tom to cross his arms and slide down in his seat as he pouts.

“I think I’m just going to go lay down for a while.” Harrison informs as he stands up. “Text me if you need me.” He tells Tom, he nods. He bids an official goodbye and heads straight towards the trailers.

-----

The sound of your door opening causes you to pause the show you’re watching.

“Hello?” You call out into your no longer empty trailer. When no one responds, you brush it off and go back to your show.

You jump when you see someone show up in the archway in front of your mini bedroom that has one big bed filling up the whole room.

“Jesus, Harrison.” You place a hand over your heart. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“That would explain the smell.” He scrunches up his nose in disgust. You let out an offended scoff and throw a pillow at him. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” He assures, plopping down on the bed next to you. “I saw the English Lavender candle you were burning on your counter... But I can’t help but ask why not regular lavender?”

“Because English is the best kind.” You flirt and peck his cheek causing him to go pink.

He lets out a small chuckle while slinging his arm around your shoulders. “I know we’re the best.” He smiles.

“So, what brings you to my side of the mountain? Not that I mind of course.”

“Honestly,” He sucks in a breath. “I wanted to take a nap.” He admits, your face lights up.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He laughs at your excitement. You close your laptop and toss it towards the end of your bed.

“This is going to be the second best nap of your life, sweetheart.” You inform as you pull one of the blankets over the two of you. Harrison just smiles in response as you wrap your arm around his torso while he wraps both his arms around your body.

“Sweet dreams, love.” He presses a kiss to the side of your head while you burrow your face into the crook of his neck.

Extended Ending

“Aw, well ya look at that.” You hear a cocky voice say after you hear what sounded like a shutter of a camera going off but you brush it off.

“What?” You feel Harrison unwrapping an arm from your waist and moving his legs so they aren’t tangled with yours to roll onto his back. You let out a soft groan of disapproval at the lack of contact causing a smile to appear on Tom’s face. You sleepily turn around to place your head on Haz’s chest and wrap a tight arm around his waist. You feel him subtlely pull you flesh against his body.

“You and (Y/N) all cuddled up.” You recognize the voice as your costar Tom Holland. “My best female friend and my best mate spooning like two puzzle piece that fit together.”

“Tom--” Harrison sighs while you try to block them out so you can go back to sleep.

“Oh, come on, mate.” He shakes his head. “Don’t play dumb, you know I was right.”

“Tom--”

“Come on, Haz, I told you to admit your feelings to her and look where it got you.” Now that catches your attention. “You’re in the same bed together, that’s the farthest you’ve gotten with any girl.” You hold back a laugh.

“That is not true.” He defends, raising his voice making you cringe at the loudness. Harrison feels you tense against his body and worriedly looks down at you. “Now,” he lowers his voice to a soft yet stern whisper. “leave before you wake her up. She hasn’t been getting a lot of sleep lately.”

“Oh, I didn’t want to know that.” His friend teases with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Get the fuck out.” He takes a nearby pillow and throws it at Tom causing him to let out an annoying cackle as he dodges it.

“Sweet dreams, lovebirds.” He calls as he exits your trailer, accidentally slamming the door behind him.

“I swear, I’m going to kill that kid one day.” Harrison mumbles under his breath.

“Then who would’ve ratted out your crush to me?” You question with a smirk, his face turns bright red.

“You heard that?” He unwraps his arms from you so he can cover his face as he sits up.

“Yup.” You pop the ‘p’, sitting up with him, placing a hand on his back. “But you wanna hear something that’s pretty cool?” You whisper.

“Hmm?” He groans.

“I have a huge crush on you too.” You exaggerate a gasp.

“You do?” He uncovers his face.

“I mean, yeah.” You shrug like it’s not a big deal. “Why would I want to cuddle and take naps with you if I didn’t?” You point out, he opens his mouth to say something but closes it.

“Exactly.” Your chuckle turns into a squeal as Harrison slings an arm around your shoulder and pulls you to lay down with him again. “Haz!” You giggle as he playfully nips at your neck. You continue to wiggle against him until he finally plants his lips onto yours.

#harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield imagine #tom holland #spiderman

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