TITLE: Wrath
CHAPTER NO/ ONE SHOT: One shot
CHARACTER(S): Matt Murdock x Reader/Matt Murdock x OFC (can be read as both since names are not mentioned)
AUTHOR: Admin GCV
ORGINAL IMAGINE: N/A
NOTES/WARNINGS: This was written for a prompt challenge on another website and my prompt was “Sin”. Violence and mention of anxiety ahead.
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”
It’s been a while since the last time I’ve been here. The smell of the wood of the confessional, older every day, welcomes me like a part of the family. Father Lantom’s heart skips a beat as soon as he hears my voice, as usual, but then it comes back to its normal rhythm. He trusts me. I’m the one who doesn’t trust me anymore.
The guilt has been eating me alive for days, now. As I speak, I can feel my knuckle hurt again for the failed blow that made me hit the sidewalk. Three more men are on the roof. They move quickly, but the building is not so tall. I hit two of them by throwing my billy club. The third one stands there watching me for a moment, petrified by my move. I smell his sweat. I smell the abuse of deodorant. It’s nauseous. The guy runs away immediately, though, and I thank God I don’t have to take care of him right at that moment; I can’t concentrate even on his thugs.
Anger begins to sneak into each of my senses. He must pay for that. The other punches hit him, and my kicks too, making him lose balance more than once. I realize that maybe the sidewalk was softer, but my rage leaves me no way out and I don’t want to stop it. He wouldn’t deserve it. I focus all of my senses on what’s happening right in front of me to the point that I block any other sound, smell or vibration that doesn’t come from him.
But the gunshot is too loud. I stop.
The world around me comes back to life and I hear the sirens in the distance. The police are still five turns away from here. There’s time. At least, the time to understand what’s just happened. The man I was fighting against doesn’t get up anymore. Unconscious but alive. No, I would never cross that line.
From the trail of deodorant, I understand that the thug came back, but he’s already gone again. He just wanted to draw my attention to make me stop beating his boss. Useless.
A familiar heartbeat draws my attention and I run to the other side of the street. Police are two turns from here.
“I brought her home immediately.”
I can feel her hands caressing my face while I tell her that everything’s gonna be alright. I’m not lying, but she wouldn’t know because she can’t hear my heartbeat. I sense hers, though, and I know she has never been so scared, not since I’ve known her. Not since I’ve loved her.
In my nostrils, there’s the smell of the three drops of blood escaped from the suture on her wound. The hand that I ask her to keep pressed against the bandages shakes.
I repeat that the bullet just hit her superficially, I tell her that just a little scar will remain, but she bursts in tears.
She’s not scared. She’s panicking. I immediately hold her tight against my chest and I stroke her hair rocking her. Someone has discovered that a special bond connects us and now she’s in danger because of me. And she knows. She tries to beat around the bush telling me that her anxiety was triggered by the shock, but she keeps forgetting that I can hear her heartbeat and I know she’s lying. As I keep on holding her tight, I make her lay down next to me. I can’t ask her to bear such a thing just for us. The scent of her tears is the most hideous I’ve ever smelled. They stain me more than the blood of any criminal I’ve ever faced. And this is my anger’s fault.
But she presses more and more against me. She doesn’t care.
I don’t know what to do, I’ve never found myself in this situation, but I let her guide me. She knows her mind too well and she tells me what to do. I hug her, let her cry and let her vent. She asks me to let her scream if necessary. And I listen to her.
All of a sudden, anxiety seems worse than a bullet.
Then, I hear her heartbeat beginning to become normal again. Her fingers tight against my arm become loose as she drifts off to sleep.
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”
