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Glen Powell in Hit Man

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Road to Perdition Masterlist

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: The Great Depression wasn't called a depression for nothing. Jobs were scarce, and the price of food and other necessities were rising higher and higher with each passing day. What little money you were able to make went straight to the bank and out of reach from your booze-swilling lech of a brother. It's on one such run that you come face to face with members of the infamous Dagger Gang; a group of, admittedly handsome, men who steal from the banks to hand it back out to the poor. You want nothing to do with them, but that blond-headed devil might just have something to say to the contrary. (1930s!Mobster!AU)

Series Content Warning: Historical Inaccuracies, Period typical sexism, Period typical racism, Period typical prejucides in general, Gun violence, Blood, Shootings, Bank robberies, Slight dubcon, Police Brutality, Depression Era struggles, Angst, Fluff, Eventual Smut. Chapters will have their own specific warnings.

All posts related to this series will be tagged with "RTP," "Road to Perdition" and "Mobster!Jake".

*Denotes smut.

Masterlist

Series;

Coming Soon...

Drabbles;

Mobster!Jake concepts…

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…don’t tell Dean.

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Bill Skarsgård as Eric Draven in The Crow.

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NEW FORM

I'm going to be doing more one shots soon so here is the form for the taglists AND you have the option to submit a request if you so choose!

[mariaenchanted]

Please give them a happy ending! They really deserve it! 🥹🥹

“  please,  tell me why you’re upset.  tell me who did this?  ” for gallus and Sabina or rooster and mrs. Bradshaw please

Okay, so technically I said I was only accepting requests from this prompt list for Lew characters, but this one works so perfectly for Gallus and Sabina, and I love them so much, so I couldn’t pass it up! So we’ll call this a little SVAA drabble!

“Please, Sabina,” Gallus begged, his voice a pained rasp against your ear as he tenderly cupped your face in his massive, calloused palms. It still amazed you how gentle those hands of his could be when he was holding you. “Please, tell me why you’re upset. Tell me who did this.”

He knew. Deep down in his bones, he knew who had done this, who had left the angry welt across your cheekbone and caused fresh tears to stain your skin. He knew, and he could do nothing about it. And that gutted him more than any opponent in the arena ever could.

“Gallus, please, don’t make me say it,” you whispered brokenly, a dry sob tearing from your throat. You were ashamed. Humiliated. Disgusted with yourself. He risked life and limb every day to come back to you, and you couldn’t even keep yourself safe from your domina for him.

“Sh, sh, don’t cry, little dove,” he murmured soothingly, allowing you to cry into his chest as he pressed soft kisses to the top of your head. “You don’t have to say anything else. Just let me take care of you.”

His warm breath stirred your cheek as you slowly lifted your head to look at him. His thumb was so impossibly careful and gentle as he stroked your cheek, silently assessing the damage. He’d been learning from the way you took care of him.

“Will you just love me?” you asked quietly, wrapping your arms around his broad, powerful shoulders.

Gallus took you into his strong arms and laid you down on his bed, hovering above you as he pressed a kiss to your wounded cheek, then your forehead, your chin, your lips.

“Forever,” he promised.

soft(ish) angst prompts

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♥️

The Younger Kind Part 54 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley prepares to leave for Japan, but not before he does everything he can to help you get ready for his departure. During the appointment where you both get to meet baby number two, he realizes just how overwhelmed you've been feeling, but it's too late to turn back now.

Warnings: Swearing, smut, anal sex, angst, fluff, pregnancy topics, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Bradley had you bent over the side of the bed with your legs spread wide and your pussy full of his cock. His big hands were covering your smaller ones as you grasped at the bedding, and your crown was lopsided on your head. He was rough, but he'd never hurt you. And he was needy, but he'd never ask for what you didn't want to share with him. When you whispered his name as he thrusted, he kissed your pretty cheek.

"Tell me what you want, Princess. Tell me what I'm allowed to have."

The harsh edges of your diamond ring were pressing into his palm as you whispered, "I wore my plug for a reason, Daddy."

His hips stuttered in their perfect rhythm as he tried to comprehend the flawless woman beneath him. "I'll be sweet and gentle," he promised, knowing he was going to have to switch gears even as he slammed himself deep into your pussy again. 

"I know you will."

Your words reminded him of everything he promised you earlier, and he wanted to be able to guarantee that he'd always leave you satisfied. So he withdrew himself and knelt behind you, tasting your pussy and also kissing along the base of your plug until you were practically sobbing. But he needed this time with his face buried in your sweetness to calm down enough to take what you were offering. 

He licked you from your clit through your dripping slit and didn't stop until his tongue wound a path around the silicone. And then he did it again. After a third time, his heartbeat was closer to normal as he whispered, "You make me absolutely fucking wild for you."

"Daddy," you whined as he stood once more. He let his cock rest against your ass as he reached for the bottle of lube, and he had to bite back his moan of delight as he removed your purple plug and replaced it with himself. 

He had no idea how long he would be gone. The training and testing he'd signed on for would apparently last as long as his commanding officers wanted it to. They would keep him going until they had the data they wanted. He wasn't sure how many weeks of his life at home he would miss out on. Appointments and Noah's artwork and you growing the baby. He'd miss these things, but he trusted you with all of it. And he wanted to remind you how in love he was with all of it before he left. 

You gasped and squeezed around him as he helped you plant your knees on the bed, and then he helped you ease your body up until your back was resting against his chest. "Just let me make you feel good," he crooned, kissing the side of your neck as ran his hands along your hips. "Just let me love you."

Slowly, you rocked with him as his fingers met your clit. He worked you up with each little swirl of his fingertips along your most sensitive part. "Look at me," he whispered, and you turned your head to the left where his lips met yours. "I love you."

You could only whimper softly as he stroked you along, pushing you closer and closer. He made sure you came with one of his hands clapped over your mouth and his other fingers pumping in and out of your pussy. And only then did he let himself succumb to your tight body and the feeling of being held inside you so intimately. 

"Daddy," you whined, holding his hand as he carefully eased himself free. And then you got on all fours and let him watch the mess he made of your tightest hole. 

"That's fucking gorgeous," he whispered as his cum dripped out of you and down along your pussy before he scooped you up in his arms. "Let's go get cleaned up, Princess. We have some things to talk about."

--------------------------

It wasn't even that late yet, but you were completely sated and curled up with your head on Bradley's chest. You were exhausted pretty much all the time now, but you chalked that up to being a pregnancy symptom. Right now you were also full of delicious feelings that had you wanting to stay up as late as you could and listen to Bradley's voice saying the sweetest things. 

"I love you, and I'd be okay with picking a wedding date right now if I knew when I'd be back from Japan."

You looked up at him. "You want to get married as soon as you're home again?"

He licked his lips and kind of laughed. "Ideally. What were you thinking, Princess?"

"We don't even know when the baby is due. We won't know that until Monday."

He kissed your forehead and muttered, "Based on when you stopped taking birth control? Probably looking at a birthday in April, just like Noah."

"Oh," you whispered with a smile. "They could have shared birthday parties in the future."

Bradley squeezed your hand and sighed. "Everything you say keeps sounding better and better."

You laughed softly and told him, "I was actually thinking about Valentine's Day? For the wedding?"

When he didn't respond right away, you thought you had said something wrong. You looked up again, and he returned your gaze with pensive eyes. "If I'm not back well before February, then I made a terrible fucking mistake here. Noah asked me about a Halloween costume, and I'm hoping I'm back in time for that."

You kissed his chest and said, "I have an idea."

"Tell me. Please."

"What if," you started, running your fingers along his abs. "What if we just get married here?"

"Here?"

"Yeah," you replied with a nod. "In the backyard."

He hooked his fingers under your chin and tilted your face up to look at him again. "You don't want something fancier? Something fit for the Princess that you are?"

You smiled and stretched until you were kissing him. "I kind of like to think of this as my castle, so the backyard would be well within my kingdom." Bradley laughed as you kissed him, and then you added, "And that way we wouldn't have to answer to anyone else about a wedding date. We could do what we want, when we want."

He hummed and said, "You are making some compelling points."

You had to bite your lip to stifle your laughter before you said, "I know. You're forgetting that my brain is young and fresh compared to yours."

A split second later, you ended up underneath him as he kissed you without actually putting his weight on top of you. "You might be distressingly young, but you're also a brat," he told you as he laughed some more. "But you're also the only one I trust as much as I trust myself. And you'll be just fine while I'm away. No matter how long that ends up being."

"I know," you whispered. "Noah and I will be okay."

He moved down your body and kissed your belly and said, "Don't forget about this little one," he whispered. "We'll meet you on Monday, and you'll be okay, too."

----------------------

Sunday should have been a fun family day, but Bradley's looming departure on Tuesday morning definitely put a damper on things. When he told Noah he would be gone again for a few weeks just like he was earlier in the summer, he had to watch his son cry. And then you started crying. And then Bradley really regretted his decision even more. 

He knew you could tell later that night that he was still on the verge of tears. You curled up on his lap on the couch and whispered, "You're Noah's Daddy. You could have told him you were going away for a day, and he would have probably cried. Any length of time without you around is going to feel impossible for him."

"But this shit was optional, Princess."

"It's a once in a lifetime opportunity," you whispered, stroking your hand along his abs, inadvertently showing off your ring. 

"It's not just Noah. It's you and the baby, too."

"Don't forget Skittles. She's your best friend." You reached for his hand and kissed his fingers. "You told me you trust me. And I told you we'll be fine."

"I do trust you," he was quick to supply as you yawned. "Let me take you to bed."

He scooped you up and cradled you against his chest. "I'm so tired, I'll probably just sleep the whole time you're gone. As soon as Noah is in bed each night, I'll be snuggled up, too."

You fell asleep almost instantly as he whispered, "This is what I'll really miss."

Bradley was happy the appointment time with your doctor was before Noah needed to be picked up from preschool on Monday, because he could tell you were overwhelmed. He managed to get out of work early enough that he was waiting for you by your car when you walked out of Dr. Kelly's office.

"Bradley," you gasped, running down the walkway toward him where he was leaning against the driver's side door. You threw your arms around his neck and clung to him just like you did in bed this morning, and he truly felt like shit as he kissed you. He had about fourteen more hours until his flight left for Tokyo, and he could physically tell how much you were going to miss him. 

"Hey, Baby," he whispered, letting you smother him in kisses as he held your body to his. "Yeah... we're getting married as soon as I get home."

You laughed, but you whispered, "I don't even want to think about you leaving yet, okay? Let's go get this appointment over with."

"Over with?" he asked. "I don't know about you, but I'm excited."

You pushed him toward the other side of your car before climbing in and starting the engine. "It's not that I'm not excited. I'm just nervous. And I'm wondering how many appointments you'll end up missing. And like holy shit, Daddy, sometimes I forget how young I am since I'm getting married to such an old man, you know?"

Bradley groaned as you reached for his hand at a red light. "You know that's part of the reason why I'm doing this, right? I'll age out of flying within the next ten years, and then it's retirement or taking a position on base somewhere."

"Retirement?" you asked in surprise. 

He shrugged and ran his thumb along your knuckles. "Could be a stay at home dad, maybe," he muttered. 

"You'll be my trophy husband!" you practically shrieked. "Someday I'll be the breadwinner!"

"Alright, keep your eyes on the road," he said, nodding at the stoplight that just turned green. "I guess you like that idea more than I thought you would."

"Hey, if you want to retire in ten years, then this trip to Japan is even more important than I originally thought."

"Yeah," he muttered. "But I would have never considered something like this before I met you."

"Not with Meredith?" you asked as you turned into a different medical complex. 

"No, Princess," he replied. Then he remained quiet until you were both out of the car and on the way inside. He stopped you just outside the door with his hands on your hips, and you looked up at him with a little smirk. "The best thing she ever did was give me Noah. But you've given me a partner and mom for my kids. Let's go meet baby number two."

--------------------------

You were so overwhelmed, you were shaking. Bradley was holding your hand, and you were squeezing him back. You had no idea you'd have to have something inserted inside you for the ultrasound. When you watched Dr. Kelly write ultrasound prescriptions at work, they were always external. And you had no idea what to say when you were questioned about your last period. You'd pretty much stopped keeping track since you started sleeping with Bradley, but you hadn't paid any attention to your cycle at all after he flushed your pills.

When you kind of shrugged and met his soft eyes, he told the doctor, "Uh, well we stopped using protection in July." You were never this careless before you got so comfortable with Bradley, but you also never felt so loved and taken care of before. "It's okay, Princess," he whispered with a little smile as the doctor turned on the video monitor, and then you saw it.

"Is that the baby?" you blurted out, and now Bradley was the one squeezing your hand.

"That's the baby," the doctor replied. "Let's zoom in."

"Baby number two," Bradley told you, leaning closer to kiss your cheek. "And look at that nice, steady heartbeat."

You were mesmerized by the way it looked. All of your nursing textbooks had not prepared you for the visual example of the tiny thing inside you that would grow into a baby. "This is incredible," you whispered. "Is it... healthy?"

"Looks great," the doctor replied. "And I would estimate your due date is right around April twenty-fifth."

"Told you," Bradley said with a smile. "April. Just like Noah."

You tried not to smile too much as you thought about the kids having shared birthday parties in the backyard with all of their friends running around. Bradley kissed your fingers, and you briefly heard him ask for a schedule of your appointments. He knew so much more about this than you did; you should have known he would be absorbed by the details. He'd been through all of it before with Noah. Well as much as Meredith let him. You looked at his handsome face and his broad shoulders in his uniform shirt. It was so easy to picture him carrying two kids around while Skittles jumped at his feet. His interactions with Noah made you so emotional, and now you'd get to experience all of that from day one. From before day one, actually. 

"Do you have any more questions?"

You blinked away your thoughts and watched Bradley collect the long printout of about five of the ultrasound snapshots. Your appointment was done. Everything was finished. "It's over?" you asked in surprise. 

"Yes," replied your doctor. "We'll see you back here in a month."

You stumbled along next to Bradley on your way back to your car as he held your hand. "Do you want me to drive?" he asked softly, leaning down to kiss your cheek. Wordlessly, you handed him your car key and went for the passenger side, taking the ultrasound images with you. As prepared as you thought you were, this made it real. Very real. And you were about to be alone with Noah and your thoughts and this tiny baby that was making you so tired. 

As Bradley headed back to pick up the Bronco, you asked, "Can you get Noah? He's going to want to spend as much time with you as he can, and I just want to go right home and get a shower."

"Of course," he replied. "And I'll pick up pizza and salad on my way home. I don't want either of us to have to be worrying about dinner or cleaning the kitchen. Not tonight."

His words were so considerate, and he always followed through with what he said, but that didn't stop your tears from breaking free once you were home and in the shower. You had too many thoughts swirling in your mind. Bradley was leaving. Noah was going to be solely your responsibility for an undetermined amount of time. You were going to be sleeping alone. Your exhaustion was taking over. Showers like this one would be rare for weeks, maybe even months. You wouldn't be allowed to have a break. 

Work. Noah. Sleep. Baby. Cry. 

You could hear Bradley's voice out in the kitchen, but you didn't want to get out of the shower. Your fingers were so pruney, you were having a hard time holding the soap, but you didn't get out for a while longer. The pizza was cold when you finally emerged in a pair of Bradley's gym shorts and one of his old shirts, and your eyes were red and irritated from crying. 

You kissed the top of Noah's head when he said, "Hi, Mommy." His new artwork that looked a bit like Bradley walking Skittles was already hanging on the refrigerator. 

"Come here," Bradley coaxed, still dressed in his uniform while he sat next to Noah who was eating some of the pizza. But he hadn't touched his own slice yet. 

"You didn't have to wait for me," you whispered as you settled down onto his lap. 

Your stomach growled as he said, "Another minute in that shower, and I was coming to fish you out. You need to eat. Do you want me to heat it up for you?"

"No," you mumbled, picking up his slice and devouring it. He kissed your neck and got your salad ready as you reached for a second piece of pizza. "More dressing, please," you whispered, and he smiled as he dumped it onto the lettuce. You ate until you felt completely stuffed, still trying to process everything, and then you leaned back against Bradley's chest. "I'm sorry," you whispered. "I ate off of your plate and everything."

"I wanted you to," he replied, his chest a deep rumble against your body. He drew lazy circles on your thigh with his thumb as he bit into his own slice of pizza. "I'm gonna miss you."

Then your tears started again, and you knew they weren't going to quit. Bradley did everything that evening. He walked Skittles and gave Noah a bath. He made you a cup of tea and tucked you in bed. He propped one of the ultrasound photos on your nightstand with a little smile, and then he got in bed with you. 

Your plans for the night included at least a round or two of goodbye sex, but all you could do was curl up on him with your face pressed to his shoulder, inhaling his scent. You promised him you could handle things without him, but now it all felt hopeless.

"Did you pack some of your sexy polaroids?" you asked him with a little sniff. 

He kissed your ear and whispered, "I packed two of the polaroids, plus I have all the photos and videos that you helped me save to my phone. And I have about a million cute photos of you and Noah. And now I have ultrasounds, too."

"Okay," you mumbled, fighting to get yourself under control enough to try to turn him on. You let your hand drift down his bare chest to his abs and the top of his sweatpants, but he just took your hand in his and guided it back up to his lips. After he pressed a kiss to the inside of your wrist, you tried again, but you were deterred again. "I'm trying to give you a boner, Daddy."

He laughed softly. "I know. But I'd rather just hold you all night if that's okay with you."

All night was a bit of an overstatement. You and Noah would be dropping him off at the airport at five o'clock for his flight. Really, you only had a few more hours with him at home. "Yeah. That's okay with me."

He kissed your shoulder and spoke softly as you clung to him. "I'll call you every opportunity I have. If you need help with anything, you reach out to Nat or Penny and Mav, okay? And if you need to talk to someone about the baby, you can tell Nat. She doesn't know yet, but I trust her with you."

"Okay," you murmured against his neck. You loved the way he talked about you and the way he touched and kissed you. Nothing compared to it, and nothing ever would. "I'm going to miss you. I feel like I can't stop crying."

He remained quiet for a few minutes, just holding you and letting you listen to the steady beating of his heart. "Princess... I don't even know how to... just, thank you for letting me do this. Thank you for understanding why I even wanted to do this."

"Just come home soon."

--------------------------

Before dawn, Bradley found himself outside the San Diego International Airport on his knees on the sidewalk underneath the fluorescent lights. Noah was yawning continuously, and he was still wearing his dinosaur pajamas. He had his arms around Bradley's neck, half falling back to sleep right there as Bradley had his other arm wrapped around the backs of your thighs and his head resting against your belly. 

"We'll miss you, Daddy." The sound of your broken sob as your fingernails dragged softly through his hair were enough to keep him on his knees a minute longer. He ran his nose and lips along the soft fabric of his tee shirt that you were still wearing, kissing where he knew the baby was. 

"I love you," he murmured. Then he buried his face in Noah's soft curls and said, "I love you, Bub. I'll be home before you know it. Be good for Mommy?"

"I will," he said with a yawn, kissing Bradley's cheek. "Love you."

And then he stood and pressed his lips to the tears running down your cheeks. "How will we know when you get there?" you asked softly. "Will they let you call us right away? Or will we have to wait?"

"I'll call you as soon as I land," he promised. "And I'll keep calling you whenever I have access to my phone."

"Okay," you gasped, your lips colliding with his. "Okay," you whispered against his lips. "I love you."

With an armful of you and an armful of Noah, he kissed you one last time. "I love you more than life itself, Princess. I'll be home soon."

Then he transferred his son to your arms, picked up his bag and headed inside, turning around to wave every few steps. You were crying, and Noah was hugging you now, and more than anything, Bradley wanted to turn around and take everyone home. But he forced himself toward the terminal. 

The flight was long and lonely, and sleep eluded him. Arriving in Tokyo already exhausted was not his best move when he had to meet some admirals and members of the Japanese military, but there was nothing he could do about it now. 

Without checking the math to see what time it was back home, Bradley pulled out his phone and called you as he walked to get his bag. You answered on the third ring, your voice a little muffled as you said, "Bradley."

"Hey, Baby," he replied, a smile finding his lips for the first time in hours. "I'm in Japan. And I'm missing you already."

He could hear your smile as you softly said, "Go be amazing at your job and then fly back home to us."

"That's exactly what I'll do."

Bradley left the airport a few minutes later in a military sanctioned vehicle on his way to the U.S. Naval base in Yokosuka. He was about to find out just how intense this training mission was going to be and how much he was going to miss his family. 

"Lieutenant Bradshaw? My name is Admiral Palmer." Before he had a chance to respond or even address the older man, Bradley had a binder thrust into his hands. "Here is your tentative schedule. I'm sure we will add to it as we go. We'll start each morning at first light. You will need to be here before that. No outside communication on your personal devices. No outside communication that is not supervised. Please be advised that information about your room in the barracks as well as the cafeteria hours are listed in your paperwork. We will see you here tomorrow."

As Bradley begrudgingly handed over his phone, he was already missing his collection of photos. Not even the dirty ones as much as the ones where you and Noah were playing with sidewalk chalk or reading together. All he'd been able to do was shoot you a quick text letting you know he'd communicate again as soon as he could, and then it was gone before he got a response. He just had to trust that you'd take care of yourself and Noah. Just like last time, but now with the baby, too.

--------------------------

We're about to see how well Princess can handle that growing household without him at home. Daddy is going to struggle with the limited contact, I fear. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[mariaenchanted]

I mean, i don't mind.

Something is telling me that he doesn't like to sleep with a shirt on.

[mariaenchanted]

[mariaenchanted]

Oh my god! Please! Let him tempt you!

Stop it. Stop tempting me.

[mariaenchanted]

Run, Run, Run - Billy Russo

Here we have 2023's Halloween fic! I haven't written much fic this year and I can't promise that I'll write much/any next year, but I wanted to make sure I got this done. It's not edited or proof read beyond brief skims so sorry about that. It's also 17.2k so.

Warnings: Murder. Blood. Depiction of serial killer attacks. Discussion of scars and grief and fear.

Summary: The reader survives an attack by a known serial killer when they are in high school. Only the attacks start up again when they are older and in another state. Is it related to the first attacks? Is it a copy cat? And more importantly...is it someone the reader knows?

As always, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!

[gif is mine]

-----

You hadn’t been to many parties since you started high school, but the ones you had gone to had always gotten rowdy. Spilled out all over a house except for any rooms marked Occupied or Out of Bounds. The front and back yards would be covered in cans and bottles and cups. And quite a few people passed out.

This party might be in full swing, but it was nothing like the last parties you’d gone to. There were a lot of people, but everyone was squished into the basement den. A few went up into the kitchen in sets of two or three or more, but they all came right back after they got a refill or more snacks.

As it was, there were only about twenty people at this party. Once upon a time that’d be laughed at, considered a failure of a party, but this time? You were honestly surprised to see this many people at the graduation party most people had been looking forward to.

Why were things different this time? Simple. 

Over the last three weeks, seven people had been brutally murdered in your small, sleepy coastal town. Four teenagers, one parent, one police officer, and one unlucky Good Samaritan. Everyone said that nothing like this had ever happened here before and you believed it. It wasn’t a place where people left their doors unlocked, but murders? Multiple murders in just a few weeks? It was unheard of.

The media named the murderer the Seaside Slasher, but tonight everyone had his real name. He had been caught when he fled the scene of his last murder. No one recognized the name as being a local. As terrifying as it was that a random man had come to your town to brutally murder complete strangers, it didn’t matter. It was over. He was in jail.

Parents had reluctantly granted permission for the seniors to go to parties as a way to celebrate the upcoming graduation and a way to mourn the loss of their classmates. Your parents had been very hesitant to grant permission, but your older brother who had come to town made them agree that you deserved to let loose.

Not that this party was much of a way to do that. Music played so softly that you could barely hear it, teenagers sat around and talked quietly. You hadn’t expected a blowout or anything, but this felt more like study hall. 

You could either stay here and be reminded of the horrors of the last few weeks or you could go home and actually relax. It wasn’t a hard decision.

A quiet goodbye to your group of friends later, you went up the stairs and slipped your shoes on. You checked your purse for your things and then headed to the front door.

“Where you headed sweetie?”

You turned around and saw the mom of the student whose house you were in. You smiled as you hoisted your purse over your shoulder.

“I’m going to head home. My parents didn’t want me out for long with everything.”

The mom smiled, but you could tell it was with a heavy heart. She looked out the glass of the front door and frowned a bit.

“It’s late. Do you want me or my husband to drive you?”

That wasn’t a rare occurrence even without the murders still hanging over the heads of everyone, but you still shook your head.

“No, I live one street over, on Granite Avenue. It won’t take long.”

She laughed a bit as she reached out and touched my shoulder.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be so cautious. He was caught, wasn’t he? We’re safe now.”

“But it’s hard to switch gears that fast,” you added, since that’s exactly how your parents had worded it. She laughed as if you had read her mind, but you could see she was still a bit hesitant to let you walk. “I’ll call once I’m home. How’s that?”

With your friend’s mom placated, you headed out into the night air. It wasn’t overbearingly hot, even though summer was right at the cusp. Living this close to the coast meant there was also a little bit of a breeze though.

You walked down the street a few blocks before you cut across to your own street. There weren’t many sounds in the distance, just the sound of your feet on the asphalt, but you still felt the hair rise on the back of your neck the longer you were out. You sped up your pace until you could see your house clearly, the front porch light on to welcome you home.

Maybe your parents had the right idea to not want you to go out. It didn’t matter that you were safe, right then you felt like you were being hunted.

On the front porch you pulled out your key and let yourself in. There were no lights on upstairs or in the living room as you put your purse down and tugged off your shoes. You bypassed the stairs and went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. With it in your hand, you took a few sips before you headed to the stairs that led down to the den where your brother was staying. There wasn’t an overhead light on but flickers from the television. He was probably awake though and you wanted to let someone know that you were home.

Down the stairs, you looked over to the couch and saw the back of your brother’s head as he was facing the television which was on the local news on mute. Right as you opened your mouth to say something to alert him to your presence, you saw what was on the television screen.

Captions ran across the bottom of the screen in a delay to the way the anchor’s mouth was moving, but you saw the picture in the corner of the screen and the tag under it.

SEASIDE SLASHER ESCAPED POLICE CUSTODY

“Oh god,” you whispered as you stared at the news footage. Somehow the murderer had gotten free and whereabouts were unknown. 

You needed to call your friend and let them know that you were home and also what had happened, in case they didn’t already know. You needed to wake your parents. You needed to…

“Jere?”

You whispered your brother’s name, not wanting to scare him, but he didn’t budge from watching the news. You flicked the light on which would have ordinarily caused him to at least jerk but he didn’t move still.

Unease filled you as you tiptoed across the carpet to the edge of the couch. As you peered around, multiple things happened at once.

The first was that you saw your brother, his eyes dull and face slack as blood oozed from his neck. He was propped up on the couch to look like he was still alive, but he very much wasn’t. 

The second was that crumpled on the floor in front of the couch, hidden from view at first, was your mom. Her face was upturned a bit, but had the same dull eyed look as your brother as she laid in a pool of blood that soaked into the thick carpet underfoot.

The third was that, from the corner of your eye, you saw something move in the reflection of the framed picture of your family that hung over the television. That split second heads up is what made you spin around only to be face to face with a masked murderer who held a bloodied knife in his hand.

The scream came out of you all at once, from the horror of seeing your murdered brother and sister to the terror of being face to face with their murderer. It all happened so quickly that you just screamed for it all as you immediately started to run. You tossed the glass of water you held at his face as you took off across the room.

It meant you had to run through the pool of blood and you felt your socks soak in some of it as you did, but you couldn’t focus on that. You couldn’t focus on the fact that you’d just run past the dead bodies of your loved ones. You could only focus on survival.

Another scream came out of your throat and you felt something slash against your shoulder. He had caught up to you. You bounced off the wall and then darted behind the couch, desperate to get to the stairs, but he was right on you. Your hand grasped a picture frame from the shelf nearest you and you spun around to slam it against his face as you scrambled, screaming as his knife cut into your stomach. You needed to put distance between you and him, needed to get up the stairs. Needed to…

Was your dad even alive? Maybe he had been killed too. Maybe there was no one in the house to hear you scream.

Your face was slammed against the corner of the wall near the stairs, another slash of the knife as it went across your shoulder blades. The den wasn’t large enough to run from him, nowhere to hide. You were going to be killed, you were going to be—

A thunderous noise came to your attention right before someone came down the stairs and barreled into the body that was holding you against the wall, the knife carving against your back and the back of your arm as he was ripped away. You screamed as you spun around, but you watched as your dad wrestled the masked man to the floor and ripped the knife from his hands. Even though the other man fought back, your dad had something to help him.

Cuffs. He was in his police uniform so he must have just gotten home and heard your screams. 

As your heart stopped pounding in your ears you heard your dad’s voice break through the fog.

“–911, okay? You need to call 911!” 

You stumbled over to the landline that was kept in the den, your feet screaming as you did, but you didn’t focus on that. Just on getting to the phone. Hitting the 9 then the 1 then the 1 again. Then you slumped against the ground as a voice came across to ask what was your emergency.

“Please,” you begged softly as your eyes went to the dead bodies that you could clearly see, your eyes welling up with tears as you felt nausea roll through you. “Oh god, please just…please.”

A bloodied hand entered your vision and you screamed, but your dad bent down so that you could see his face.

“Give me the phone sweetheart, let me,” he said, tears in his eyes. 

You must have given it to him. Or maybe he just took it from you. Either way, you watched as he walked back to where he had tackled the masked man as he spoke quickly into the phone. He stumbled over to the body of your mom and knelt down, those tears now pouring over his cheeks. You couldn’t hear his words, but you closed your eyes so you couldn’t see it anymore. 

Everything hurt. Your feet from walking through broken glass, either from your water that you’d thrown or the picture you’d smashed against his face. Your back from the multiple knife slashes. Your stomach from the knife. Both of your arms from the knife. Your head from being bashed into the wall.

Your heart. That’s what hurt worse. 

—

“You sure this is what you want?”

You looked over at your dad and then back down to the papers in your hands. It listed the information about your dorm room assignment and orientation. You were about 30 miles away from the city but your dad was finally asking the question you knew had been on the tip of his tongue since you had told him that you had gotten into NYU.

“Little late to change my mind, isn’t it?”

“Not at all. I’ll turn this car around right now if you ask me to.”

You knew he would, but you didn’t want him to.

At one point you had contemplated going to a college closer to home, maybe driving in to see your parents every now and then. Maybe you’d go to your brother’s college. Then…

“This is what I want,” you said softly as you looked out of the window to the cars that were all heading the same direction.

“Okay sweetheart,” your dad replied equally softly. “You know I’ll worry about you in a city like New York, but I can’t fault you for wanting to get as far away as you can.”

Your arms subconsciously came around your stomach, fingers searching out the rigid raised scar that stretched beside your naval almost to your side.

“Bad things happen in the city, but bad things happen in small towns too,” you reminded your dad, as if he ever needed a reminder. 

As if he hadn’t nailed the door to the den shut the day of the funeral.

“Maybe I’ll move out this way too,” he said instead of addressing your comment. “Less travel so we can see each other.”

Normally the thought of a parent moving to be closer to where you were going to college would seem embarrassing or ridiculous. This time it sounded like a good idea.

“Maybe you should,” you replied as you looked over at your dad, the bags under his eyes and the gray that seemed to sprout up in the last six months. “I think that would be a good idea.”

—

Your roommate was out at another party, but you didn’t mind. You’d gotten used to the solitude, even surrounded by people as you were in New York.

Instead you stared at the computer screen where you had been doing homework. An email had come into your personal box and desperate for a change in pace, you’d opened it. Now you were unable to look away.

A news alert. You’d set it up before you left for college, although this was the first alert you’d gotten. The article was short and to the point, but you kept staring at the headline.

SEASIDE SLASHER SENTENCED TO DEATH

Your phone rang as you read the words again and you answered without looking at the caller ID. You already knew who it was.

“Did you see–”

“Yes,” you said quickly, cutting your dad off. “Yeah, I’m looking at it now.”

Both of you sat in silence on the phone for a few more minutes, neither of you sure what to say at first.

“It’ll be years before it’s actually carried out,” your dad said finally. “These things go through certain stages and he can appeal but, it’s not like there’s much chance of him winning. Justice will be served.”

You closed your eyes and flipped through memories of that night like a flipbook. You felt the horror and terror and pain flow through you all over again.

“Good.”

—

“You’ll never guess who I saw earlier,” your friend Karen said as she flopped down onto your couch. “Never in a million years guess.”

“Frank Castle,” you teased back, not needing to guess. 

Her laughter was a good enough answer to tell you that you were right. You laughed as you spun around in your desk chair to look at her.

“And? Did he ask you out or are you continuing to pretend not to like him?”

This was a pretty common sight in your tiny little apartment. You and Karen had met in college and stayed friends even with both of you having hectic lives. Now, out in the real world as it was, you two still hung out a few times a week. To the point where you each had keys to the other’s places.

“He asked me out.”

You let out a whoop and pumped your fist in the air. 

“Knew he had it in him!”

“Oh shut up,” she laughed even as she got a starry look in her eyes. “I think I’ve led him on quite a chase already.”

Those two had circled each other for a while, neither one relenting at first even though it was obvious they both liked each other. You were almost annoyed at how perfect they were for each other.

“He said he has this friend named Kevin. He wanted to know if…”

You weren’t sure why Karen had trailed off until you realized you were frowning. 

“No blind dates,” you said as you spun back around to your computer. “I appreciate it and all, but I’m fine.”

Your hand went down to your stomach and traced the ridge of the scar in a familiar fashion. You knew without looking that Karen had caught the gesture.

“I know that your first time ended badly, but not every guy is going to…”

She trailed off but you turned to look at her.

“To what, freak out when he sees me naked because I look like someone tried to unsuccessfully gut me like a fish?”

Your college boyfriend had been surprised when he’d seen you without a shirt on, but that wasn’t what had ruined the mood. Even when he’d seen the scars on your back or your arms, he would still have been willing to go further, but it was you that stopped it.

Simply because he had asked “what happened?” As if that wasn’t a reasonable question at that moment.

“I know that you don’t like talking about what happened,” Karen started softly, and then a little more forceful when you scoffed, “but you can’t keep going like this. You rarely leave your apartment unless it’s to come to mine, you never date because you don’t want to talk to anyone about what happened, you only ever talk to me or your dad. It’s not healthy.”

The hand that had pressed against the scar reached up to work the mouse on your computer, although your eyes were unfocused as your mind replayed Karen’s words over and over again.

“Have you thought about going back to a counselor?”

You shook the mouse to make the screensaver go away.

“The last one looked freaked out when I tried to explain what happened. Hard to go back to one after that.”

Karen was one of the only people in the city that knew what had happened to you. It had happened one night about two years into being friends when the two of you had gone out drinking. You’d gotten spooked by someone wearing a ski mask, even though it was winter and obviously cold outside. Karen had found you having a panic attack in the bathroom and everything had just flowed out of you.

She was a great friend, your best friend. That was the only reason you didn’t kick her out of your apartment as she pushed for you to better yourself.

Except you didn’t want to keep having this conversation, so you opened your mouth to change topic but your cell ringing stopped you. Your dad’s picture showed up so you answered it with a smile.

“Hey dad.”

“Hey sweetheart,” he started, his voice slow and careful. “What are you up to?”

“Just sitting at my apartment with Karen,” you said as you turned back to Karen who called out a hello to your dad as she picked up a magazine off your coffee table. “What’s up?”

It took a moment before he answered.

“Have you been watching the news?”

Both you and your dad lived in New York, although he was a ways away from the city, but you knew he didn’t mean the local news. Not even state news. There was something in his voice that told you he meant the news back home.

“No,” you said as you turned to your computer and typed in a search. “I turned off my alerts a while back. Why, what…oh.”

The headline was the first one that popped up, sixteen hours old.

SEASIDE SLASHER EXECUTED

The article wasn’t very long, but you read through it twice just in case. Pretty to the point. No stay of execution was ordered, so the execution had been scheduled. Some of the family members of the victims were present, noticeably absent was the family of the last victims but you and your dad’s names weren’t listed at least. His last words were quoted near the bottom of the article.

“You have no idea. I’ll be back.”

You closed your eyes and took a few breaths until you were regulated once more. When you opened your eyes, Karen was standing beside you and obviously reading the screen because her hand went to your shoulder to give you an encouraging squeeze.

“I guess it’s over,” you said as you covered her hand with yours.

“I guess so,” your dad said back.

For some reason, neither of you sounded convinced.

—

It had been Frank’s idea to leave the city for a few days. While his reasoning was different from yours, you had to admit that you weren’t against the idea. It was around Halloween and while that holiday had not always been an issue for you, sometime over the last few years you just started to react differently. 

Even though the man that had killed multiple people in your town, including your mom and brother, had been executed a few years ago, you still felt like you couldn’t fully breathe and be at ease. You didn’t know how to explain it, but that’s just how you felt. Halloween in the city meant seeing people dressed in costumes and a majority of that wasn’t a problem. It just put you more on edge.

Not that your apartment ever got trick or treaters.Still.

“My friend is gonna come out to join us,” Frank said as he carried your bags into the little cabin. “Before you say anything, it’s not a setup kind of thing. Billy is just like a brother to me, I want him to meet the girl that’s like a sister to Karen.”

“Karen already told me. Plus I’ve heard a lot about this Billy guy over the years, it’d be nice to actually meet him.”

Frank was a great guy and had been great to Karen since the two of them had gotten their shit together to start dating. You hadn’t known that Frank was military when the two of them first met, but they made it work. In fact you couldn’t think of any couple that was as in love as the two of them.

So no, you knew that Frank wasn’t the type to try to push a blind date on you. You’d heard a hundred stories about Billy Russo but whenever they were back in the city, you weren’t able to meet up. Sometimes it was for legitimate reasons, deadlines for work or that one memorable Thanksgiving you had the stomach flu. Sometimes it was just because your anxiety and fear had gotten triggered by other situations and you couldn’t leave your house.

This was good though. You were out in the world which always made Karen happy, you were going to meet Frank’s best friend which would make him happy, and you were secluded from any potential jumpscares that Halloween might provide which made you happy. It was a win-win-win. 

Two frozen pizzas were popped into the oven and the three of you settled into the living room to watch a movie. Frank got updates from Billy on his own travel out from the city to a remote cabin that you all had rented for the long weekend. When you’d asked why he hadn’t met up with you all to head out together, Frank revealed that Billy liked to do things on his own.

You understood that. 

The movie was some actiony Blockbuster that you only vaguely recognized the name of, but it wasn’t really meant to keep everyone’s attention. It was more background noise while the three of you talked. Karen was in the middle of a story from her work at the law office when what sounded like a car pulling up had all of you looking over to the door.

“Bill said he still had an hour left,” Frank said as he checked his phone again. Then he stood up and approached the door and looked through the glass. “Huh. I don’t see a car besides ours.”

Karen frowned and got up to move over to the large glass windows that you had pulled the curtains closed on. She opened them just a bit and looked around.

“Think they drove around to the back? The driveway wraps around the house.”

Frank walked out of the living room and into the kitchen to check back there, but called that there wasn’t a car there either. 

“Maybe someone just turned around in the driveway and was gone before you got up?” you offered as you tried not to let yourself get swept away in worry and fear.

“That…is a good possibility,” Karen agreed as she let go of the curtains and moved to sit next to you once more. “Out here away from the city you can hear everything like that. It didn’t sound too close, now that I’m thinking about it.”

Frank came back into the living room with another piece of pizza halfway eaten already as he nodded in agreement. He sat down on the chair closest to the television and put his feet back up on the coffee table.

“I always forget you both are from small towns,” he said as he wiped his hands on a napkin before he crumpled it and tossed it with the rest of the dinner’s debris on the coffee table. “I’m used to cities.”

You stretched your legs out and then moved so that you were sitting criss cross on the couch cushion.

“My town was tiny. The kind of place where everyone knew everyone, secrets were nearly impossible to have, people felt comfortable going to anyone’s house and asking for something if they needed it. It was…it was a great place to grow up.”

You waved off Frank’s look of concern with a small laugh.

“It’s okay, I’m okay. The last therapist said that I needed to get better about talking about the good things from my past. It wasn’t all…bad.”

Karen reached over and squeezed your hand in support which just made your chest swell with a bitter happiness. How bad off were you that you could be praised for doing something as simple as talking about the good days of your past?

Knock knock.

All three of you looked over at the door. Frank glanced over at his phone once more and then stood up. He went to the door and looked out of the small window, but didn’t seem to see anyone. When his hand went to the bolt, you opened your mouth but immediately closed it.

This was just a normal situation. It wasn’t anything to get worked up about. If you gave into your fear every time something happened that was out of your hands, you’d never get to have a normal life.

He opened the door just a few inches and looked out, the light from the house flooding out onto the porch. He flicked on the overhead light but didn’t open the glass door to step out and check.

Tap tap tap.

All of you looked over to the window that was in front of you, angled so that someone standing in front of it wouldn’t be visible from the front door. You opened your mouth and looked over at Karen who was frowning. Frank held a hand out, but Karen stood up and marched over to the window. She didn’t pull the curtains wide, but she didn’t have to. The moment she pulled them even partially open, the sight made her scream and jump backwards.

There was someone just outside of the window dressed in a black hoodie with a Halloween mask on their face. You recognized the mask from some horror film or other that had come out years and years ago, but that didn’t really click. Instead you found yourself staring at the mask, mouth open as if to scream, but nothing coming out.

Things happened very quickly after that. Karen had turned to Frank who was already out of the house in the blink of an eye. You were up and launching yourself to the kitchen, hands fumbling as you pulled open drawer after drawer before you found the knives. You grabbed the largest one and swung around, but then you jumped back as you saw the person with the mask was in the living room.

Except the mask was in his hand and you recognized him. It was Frank’s friend Billy. Frank’s friend Billy who was being yelled at by Karen as she yanked the mask out of his hand.

Your body was still in fight or flight, the knife held aloft as if to ward off anyone from coming closer. When someone did move closer to you, you recognized that it was Frank but still couldn’t lower your arm. You heard your name being called, heard Karen say your name as well, but you still couldn’t move. 

You were safe as long as you stayed right where you were. Your back was to a solid wall, the knife was in front of you. You would be safe, you would be…

“It’s alright, you’re alright,” a voice softly called to you from your left. You turned your head and saw Karen, a few feet away with her hands up, her face paler than you’d ever seen it. “It was just a mistake, a stupid prank. Everything is okay.”

Your eyes looked past Karen and Frank to where Billy stood, his eyes wide as he stared back at you. He raised his hands slowly and showed his palms. Then he spoke, or maybe just mouthed the words.

You are safe.

Safe. You shut your eyes for a moment and then when you opened them back up, the haze you had gone under when everything had happened was lifted. You dropped the knife and shrank back into the wall so that you wouldn’t crumple. 

“Oh god,” you whimpered as you looked over at Karen, “I’m sorry. I didn’t hurt anyone, did I?”

“No, of course not,” Frank answered as he grabbed the knife and put it on the counter. 

Karen swooshed in and wrapped you in a hug. You held on as tight as you could and buried your face in her shoulder. You weren’t crying, no tears and no body wracking sobs. Just shook as adrenaline fled your body.

“I am so sorry,” a new voice said a few feet away. When you glanced up, you met Billy’s dark eyes as he stared at you and Karen. “I didn’t…I didn’t know. I thought it would be a funny prank, I didn’t know.”

Didn’t know what? You remembered seeing Karen yell at him as she pulled the mask from his hand and you assumed that maybe she had said something. Something to let him know that he just traumatized you a bit.

You sniffled and pulled away from Karen. Then you stepped a little closer to Billy.

“We haven’t been formally introduced. Hi, I’m…a survivor of a masked serial killer.”

Billy let out a shocked laugh and held his hand out to you.

“Nice to meet you.”

—

Karen and Frank had gone to bed around midnight and although you should have done the same, you found yourself still sitting in the living room with Billy at almost two in the morning. Once everything had settled down and Billy had apologized again for scaring you, you all had gone into the living room to talk and try to recoup from the events that had happened. 

Once the couple had gone to bed, the comfortable silence had made you say something you hadn’t expected.

“It was my senior year. In total, nine people were killed. Including my mom and my brother. I think I was going to be number ten if my dad hadn’t arrived.”

With that, you spilled the whole story in a way you’d only done with Karen and with a few therapists. You told Billy everything that had happened and how it made you feel. 

“I don’t leave my apartment much,” you admitted as you stared down at where your fingers were picking at the thread on the blanket over your lap. “Karen has helped a lot with that, and Frank too now. They help me get out and feel…safe. Halloween is a hard time because of the masks. It’s like I go right back to the den that night, feel like I’m going to die.”

“I’m really sorry about everything. I had no idea.”

“I know,” you whispered softly as you looked over to where Billy was watching you. “To be honest, that’s the scariest thing that’s happened to me since…since the attack. As messed up as it is, I think…I think it helped me.”

Billy tilted his head to show that he was listening, but he didn’t say anything. As if he knew him speaking would make you not say what was on your mind.

“I’ve been in a holding pattern since it all happened. I moved to the city for college and then I got an apartment and a job and somewhat of a life, but there’s a part of me that never left my hometown. A part of me that is still running around that room, thinking I was going to die. Tonight, when I was scared for my life again, I didn’t run. Or well, I did, but I was going to fight. I was going to…I wasn’t going to be caught unprepared again. I was going to fight.”

You bit your bottom lip as you looked down at your hands. Then slowly you grabbed your shirt and pulled up the hem to show your scar. It was the first time you’d voluntarily shown anyone besides doctors or Karen.

“This is just one of them, but...I was always ashamed. That I came out of that terrible night with just some scars. It never felt right that I was alive with just scars, when everyone else was gone.”

Billy’s eyes had moved down to the scar along your stomach, but the way they lingered didn’t make you feel hideous or like he thought you were a freak. In fact, the way his eyes moved along the skin made butterflies appear in your stomach.

“Survivor’s guilt is a difficult thing,” he said as he finally raised his eyes to meet yours. “You have that fear, but you also feel guilty. Like you shouldn’t get to be carefree because you don’t think you should have survived.”

You lowered your shirt and thought about that, let it sit for a while. Then you closed your eyes and laughed.

“Six therapists. I’ve seen six therapists and no one has put it so perfectly.”

Billy leaned his head back against the couch for a moment and then looked over at you.

“Every tour that Frankie and I do, I always tell myself that I probably won’t make it back. I make smart decisions and I do what I can to survive, but I accepted a long time ago that no one would notice if I was gone.”

“Frank would,” you said softly, your eyes darting over to the hallway where Karen and Frank’s room was. “He said that you’re like a brother to him.”

When you looked back at Billy, he was staring at you with an emotion you couldn’t name.

“The guy. What happened to him?”

The jump from topics made you confused for a moment before you shook your head to clear it a bit.

“He was sentenced to death and a few years ago, he was executed.”

Billy nodded as he stood up, stretching a bit until his back popped.

“Good. That’s…good.”

He moved into the kitchen and you didn’t follow or try to speak to him while he was in there. You had a feeling that Billy was going through his own journey with the things that weighed on him, but you weren’t going to push.

When he came back into the living room, he gestured to the hall.

“Should probably head to bed. It’s late.”

You nodded and stood up. To extend the time with Billy, you grabbed the trash from the coffee table and moved into the kitchen to throw it away. When you opened the trash can, you stared down at the mask that had started it all.

“Here,” Billy said as he took the trash from you and pushed it into the can, burying the mask completely. “Like it never happened.”

You glanced up at Billy’s face and then nodded, even though you knew that wasn’t what you felt like at all. Just like you had said to Billy, you felt like the whole ordeal pushed you into the healing part of your journey. Now you honestly felt like you could breathe again.

It had been a long time coming, but you were starting to feel whole once more.

—

“I have a box of picture frames. Where do you want it?”

Karen looked over at you and then glanced at the messy living room. 

“Put them on the coffee table for now? Honestly I have no idea what I want to do with this place.”

You laughed when you placed the heavy box on the coffee table. Honestly you didn’t blame Karen for being a bit overwhelmed. Frank and Billy and Curtis had moved the furniture into the house over the weekend so you and Karen took it on yourself to unpack as much as you could.

Karen and Frank’s new house was very nice and as everything was unloaded, it slowly became more and more like a home. You were happy for the two of them, even if you were a little envious.

Since that Halloween cabin trip, you had made a lot of strides with getting over your past. Even so, you were just starting to get your life back together.

Including going on a few dates over the last few weeks. Still nothing serious, but casual dating isn’t bad every now and then. 

As you unpacked books for the bookshelf, you let your mind wander to Billy. Since that trip, all of you had gotten together a few times for other trips or just for a meal and a laugh. When Frank and Billy were deployed again, you and Karen sent care packages and kept in touch with them. It felt natural. 

Karen got your attention as she came through with a box.

“I’m taking these clothes upstairs. Wanna stop for lunch soon?”

You agreed as you broke down the box you had been pulling stuff out of for the bookshelf. As you opened the next box, your phone started to ring in your pocket. When you looked at the screen, you saw Billy’s contact on there and answered immediately.

“Hey Billy,” you greeted as you started to pull the books out for the bookshelf.

When his voice came through, it was obvious he was calling from his car.

“Hey, uh, you and Karen unpacking?”

“Yeah, about to stop for lunch though. What’s up?”

He didn’t say anything at first which made you stop unloading the box. You stood up and turned as if you expected to see him behind you, even though you could still hear the car in the background.

“Have you seen the news? From your old town.”

Your chest felt like it became a bit too tight at those words. The last time you’d heard a version of that, it was your dad calling to tell you about the execution.

“No.”

He sighed a bit which made you tense to the point where you had to turn to sit down on the chair nearest you.

“There was an attack in your town two nights ago. From what I know, it was…your childhood home.”

There was a moment where you were really glad you sat down because otherwise you think your legs would have given out. As your mind swirled, you tried to think of what to ask first.

You knew that Billy had looked into your story after you told him about it. Hearing your version of events made him want to see it from start to finish so he’d looked it up. There was still a lot of information on it, including the lack of any real motive.

“An attack?”

“The police were called to the house when they heard screams. The mom and a son were on an overnight field trip so it was just the dad and daughter in the house. By the time they got there, the dad and daughter had both been brutally murdered.”

You closed your eyes and remembered what it felt like to have someone break into your house with the intention of killing you.

“They were found in the finished basement on the floor.”

Suddenly it felt like you couldn’t catch your breath. Your mouth went dry as you thought about stepping into the basement den and finding your mom and brother. The healed scars felt like they were bleeding and even though it was impossible, you still reached into your shirt to see if there was any blood from the scar.

Nothing.

“Did they find who did it?”

“They were gone, but there was a note stabbed to the door. It just had a date on it.”

“What date?”

When Billy said the date that was on the note, you half expected it to be the date you had been attacked, but it wasn’t. It was only from a few years ago, so you didn’t think it had anything to do with what had happened, just a coincidence.

Until…

“Wasn’t that the date he was executed?”

You closed your eyes as you realized that Billy was right. It had been a while since you’d thought about the date, but thinking about it you were pretty sure that Billy was right.

“His uh, his last words were that he’d be back.”

“That’s impossible. He’s dead, there’s no way he can be back.”

You almost laughed because yes, you knew that. You knew that it was impossible, but that’s what he said either way. Instead you felt tears start to gather in your eyes as you settled more into the chair.

“I’d come by but I’m out of town. Maybe stay with Karen and Frankie tonight, okay? Just…I don’t think you’re in danger, but I still don’t think you should be alone.”

You nodded and wiped at your eyes.

“Thanks Billy. I’ll talk to Karen when she comes downstairs. I’ll uh, I’ll talk to you later? Drive safely.”

“It’s all going to be okay. I promise.”

You hoped he was right but you didn’t know. Nothing felt right at the moment.

All you knew was as the call with Billy ended, you needed to call your dad to let him know about it. Once upon a time you thought that things were over, but not anymore. Now you were thinking things were just about to begin.

—

It was dark out as you made your way through the parking lot to where your car was parked. In the background you could hear your coworkers laughing as they headed to their own cars. A shouted invitation to join them at the bar came over, but you waved them off and promised next time.

Which you’d actually follow through with. It wasn’t like it had been before, where you kept to yourself at all times. You’d branched out, made friends, started working from the office just as much as you worked from home. You still kept certain things to yourself of course, a habit you were unable to break anytime soon, but you opened yourself up to people.

The car chirped as you unlocked it and slid into the front seat, immediately locking the doors again. As you started the car, you noticed something on your windshield. A folded piece of paper tucked under your windshield wiper. 

Carefully you leaned forward and leaned out of the window to pull the paper out of the wiper. It came free after a tug. Once settled back in the seat, you rolled the window back up and looked at the paper. You unfolded it and stared at it.

Did you miss me?

Your hands shook as you dropped the paper into your passenger seat. Then, without hesitation, you started towards the entrance to the parking lot. Your headlights went across someone in the distance but you didn’t even focus on them, just stepped on the gas to get out of the parking lot.

The person didn’t move at least, seen from the corner of your eye as you sped out. It was possible it wasn’t anyone to worry about, someone from the office or just someone passing by. 

As you headed to the freeway, you connected your bluetooth and dialed Karen’s number. It went to voicemail and you swore as you hung up. You were about to call her again when you hesitated. 

For some reason, you wanted to call Billy. So that’s what you did.

He answered after a few rings.

“Hey, what’s up? Leaving work?”

Your hands shook a bit as you navigated through the traffic on the street.

“I came out of work and there was a note on my windshield.”

“Okay. Did you…”

“I grabbed it,” you admitted as you drove around a slow driver in the fast lane. “I realize now that I shouldn’t have, that it could have been…but I grabbed it.”

“It sounds like you’re driving so at least nothing happened. What did it say?”

You glanced down at the paper in your passenger seat and then immediately back up to the road. 

“Did you miss me?”

“Fuck,” Billy breathed out, the connection distorting a bit from the force. “This isn’t good. I thought that whoever it was wouldn’t come all this way, but it sounds like maybe he did. Maybe you’re a target.”

Your chest felt tight as you pulled onto the street where you lived.

“I need to call to check on my dad. I’m almost home so I’ll call him when I get inside.”

“You don’t need to go to your place, not alone. Do you think Karen is home yet?”

“I tried to call Karen first,” you said as you drove past your house, your eyes on your rearview mirror just to check. “She didn’t answer so I called you.”

“That’s okay, never hesitate to call me if you need me. But for now, come to Anvil. Frank is there, I’ll let him know what’s going on. We’re gonna make sure you’re never alone until this guy is caught, okay?”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see you. You knew the way to Anvil easily enough, but that didn’t stop your heart from thudding in your chest. Whether this guy was connected to the man who had done the original attacks or it was a copycat, it didn’t matter. Right now all that mattered was that you could be in danger.

“I need to call my dad,” you said again.

“I know, but stay on the phone with me for right now, okay? I don’t want something to happen to you while you’re out.”

You wished that you could close your eyes or burrow into yourself, but you had to focus on the road. Instead you lowered your voice a bit.

“I’m scared Billy.”

His sigh came through the phone so clear that it felt like he was in the car with you.

“I know. It’s going to be okay, I promise.”

He couldn’t promise that, not really, but you didn’t say that. Instead you simply listened to the ambient noise of the connection all the way to Anvil. 

—

Your dad’s cell phone rang to the voicemail twice, but you didn’t stop. As you clicked it again, you looked over to where Frank and Billy were talking. Billy had gotten to Anvil a little bit before you did and had filled Frank in by time you got there. The two of them were discussing a plan, although you weren’t sure what for just yet.

All you cared about was getting in touch with your dad. He didn’t normally miss a call, not like this.

On the third time you called, the line was finally answered but it wasn’t your dad’s voice that greeted you.

“Hello?”

“Uh, hello...you have my dad’s phone. Who is this?”

The men turned to you when they heard what you had asked, both with concern on their faces.

“Hello miss. My name is Dr Roberts. Your father was brought in earlier this evening. He had been in a car accident.”

As he explained what had happened, you felt yourself sway. If you hadn’t already been sitting, you would have fallen over. Instead, as you were obviously struggling to focus on the words the doctor was saying, Frank came over and took the phone from you. He didn’t go far as he spoke, asking the questions you should have been asking.

“Hey. I’m right here.”

You blinked a few times and looked over to where Billy had knelt down in front of you, his hand in yours. You didn’t even notice him coming to your side or touching you. With a shake of your head, you looked over to where Frank was giving you a comforting head nod as he asked about hospital security.

“Oh god,” you breathed as you finally let yourself shake a bit. “My dad, he was in a car accident.”

“I know, but he’s okay. He’s in recovery and he’s going to be okay.”

Your eyes slammed shut as you tried to remember what the doctor had said before Frank had taken over.

“Earlier this evening. He had been in a car accident earlier this evening.”

Billy stared up at you. Then, with a glance over to Frank, he moved to sit next to you on the couch.

“He lives about thirty minutes away, right? Be enough time for the copycat to leave the note on your car and then go after your dad.”

Your hand contracted around Billy’s as you looked at the note that was on the table where you’d left it.

“There was someone in the parking lot when I got in the car. I didn’t see them very well, too far away and too desperate to leave. What if that was him? It’s not like he can be in two places at once.”

Saying that made your heart stutter in your chest as you remembered something. Something from so long ago that it had been buried.

“What is it?”

You looked over at Billy and then back to the note.

“The murders. The original murders. The only other night where two people died on the same night besides…” You let your words trail off, unable to mention your mom and brother right then. “It was never investigated and as much as I can remember, it was never talked about in the trial, but there had been speculation back then. The first murder that night was on the mainland and the second murder was on a little island. The newspapers said it should have been impossible for one person to cross that distance on the ferry in the time between murders, so they were looking for a boat that might have been used. But what if there wasn’t a boat? What if there were two murderers this whole time?”

Billy looked at the note and then over to Frank who was nodding as if he had heard. You caught a quick snippet of him telling the doctor that one of Anvil’s men would be there as soon as possible to provide extra security.

“If there were two murderers back then, then it isn’t a copycat. It’s a continuation.”

Your hands went around your stomach as if to hold you together, fingers seeking out those rigid scars under your top.

“Why me? Why my family? We never did anything to anyone.”

“It can be a fixation of finishing what was started. It can be the chase because you got away. Revenge because you got his partner killed. There’s a lot of reasons someone might keep going after you.”

You wanted to laugh, but the logic was important. You needed the reality of this before you lost yourself.

“I don’t know what to do,” you whispered as you stared down at your hands with tears in your eyes. “I want to see my dad.”

“We’ll take you,” Frank said as he passed you the phone, the screen showing the call had ended. “I’m going to pick up Karen and tell her what’s going on. Then we’ll take you to your dad.”

“Maybe we should wait,” Billy said as he stood up to face Frank. “Get Karen, get someone from Anvil to sit on her dad, but if we drag her out of the city, we can’t be sure that he won’t follow us and more people will get hurt. Here, we’re on our turf.”

As the men discussed the pros and cons of both plans, you let your hand go back to the scar. The fear that had gone through you that night in the basement den of your childhood home had started to come back, but as it rose, so did something else. A strength you never knew you had.

The strength to survive.

“I’m staying,” you said finally, cutting off their conversation. “If he wants to finish what he started, he can start with me. I’m not running again.”

Both men looked at you and you saw the pride in their eyes. Frank pulled out his phone.

“I’m going to get Karen. We’ll stick together. You and Bill should stick together too. We’ll come up with a plan to draw him out and we’ll end this.”

Your eyes went to Billy’s and found those dark eyes were already on yours.

“I’ll take you to my place. We’ll be safe there.”

This was it. The final standoff.

For years you’d thought you were safe, that the danger had been left behind you. Now, whatever happened, you knew it would really be over.

—

“Here, this will be more comfortable,” Billy explained as he handed you some of his clothes.

You hadn’t gone back to your place, unwilling to take the chance. Instead Billy had brought you straight to his over the top apartment and told you to make yourself at home.

You went into the bathroom to change, placing your clothes on the side of the sink where you could change back into them in the morning. As you stared at yourself in the mirror in Billy’s clothes, you felt your throat catch a bit.

Inch by inch you raised the shirt and looked at the scar on your stomach. Then, even though you had just put the shirt on, you pulled it off and held it to your chest as you turned. With your back facing the mirror, you looked over your shoulder and looked at the scars there.

You had felt the knife tear through your skin. The stitches hadn’t been nearly enough to keep the scars from being ugly, but you didn’t care anymore. Once upon a time they made you ashamed, but why should they? They meant you were a survivor.

A survivor.

“Hey, are you…”

Billy had knocked on the door and it came open fully since you hadn’t shut it all the way in your daze. He looked at your back in the mirror for a long moment before he met your eyes.

“Are you hungry? I was going to make dinner.”

You swallowed thickly as you looked down from his gaze in the mirror to the scars.

“They don’t bother you.”

It wasn’t asked, it was stated. When his gaze flickered away from the mirror, you turned to face him in the doorway. His eyes went down the scars on your stomach. The ones you had showed him that first night in the cabin after he had scared you. He walked towards you and reached out, slowly as if to let you move away if you wanted to.

You didn’t want to.

When those fingers touched your scar, you shivered but didn’t pull away. His eyes moved from the scar and landed on your face.

“We all have scars,” he said softly as his eyes dropped to your mouth. “Shows that you’re a survivor.”

A survivor. He had echoed the words you had thought right before he’d walked in.

“Billy,” you began but he shook his head.

“Later,” he promised as he leaned in and captured your lips with his.

Since you were going to ask if you could kiss him, you found yourself happy with this change of pace. The shirt was dropped to the floor. Chest bared, you leaned in and wrapped your arms around his neck to hold him closer. Even as his hand skimmed up your back and slowly touched the scars there, you didn’t pull away.

You were done pulling away.

Billy led you to the bedroom. As you pulled your pants and underwear off, Billy beat the record to pull his clothes off as well. His shirt was already on the floor and while he worked on his pants, you caught the scars on his shoulder and side. 

Your fingers went to the ones on his shoulder first, tracing over them. Then you touched the one low on his side.

“What are these from?”

Billy placed his hand over yours as you touched the one on his side.

“I’ll tell you all about them. After,” he added as he leaned in to kiss you again. 

You smiled against his lips, unable to help yourself. It wasn’t like you’d never thought about kissing Billy. In fact you’d thought about it a lot, even that first night when he’d scared you nearly to death. There had always been some sort of attraction between the two of you, something you never dwelled on because you hadn’t been interested in making things awkward between the two of you.

Although now you didn’t think that it would be very awkward. Something told you that Billy was just as interested as you were. 

Instead of focusing on the scars on either of you, you decided to focus on Billy and the way he was making you feel. 

There’d be time to talk later.

—

Billy wasn’t in the apartment when you woke up, but a note on the table said that he had to run to Anvil and would pick up breakfast on his way back. You had smiled at the note and folded it to put into your pocket. You were stupidly enamored by that man.

As you went over to the coffee pot that looked like it belonged in a spaceship, you heard your phone ring from your purse on the coffee table. With the reminder that your dad was in the hospital, you rushed over and grabbed it.

It was him. You immediately answered.

“Dad? Are you okay?”

“Hey kiddo,” your dad answered, his voice drowsy and laced with pain. “Finally awake enough to call. Wanted to hear your voice. The goon at the door said you’d called and talked to the doctor.”

“Dad.” Your voice broke as you slumped onto the couch. “Dad, you…do you remember what happened? Who did it?”

There was silence for a long moment before your dad sighed, the noise a bit strangled as he wheezed.

“I only saw him for a split second, but I’d recognize it anywhere. I thought I was seeing things.” You listened as he shifted, the bed crinkling him under him loud enough for you to hear over the phone. “He came by when I was in the car. I think he thought I was dead or maybe unconscious, but I heard his voice. I heard him tell me it was about time.”

You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around you as tight as you could. 

“I had a letter on my windshield last night. It asked me if I missed him. I don’t think it’s a copycat dad. I think that he was involved in the original murders.”

The slow beeps from the phone was the only way you knew the call hadn’t failed. Then your dad finally spoke.

“I think you’re right. I don’t know why, but I agree.”

At least you were all on the same page with that.

Your phone buzzed with an incoming call and you checked it to see that it was Billy. After you told your dad you’d call him back in a bit, you switched over to talk to him.

“Hey, is everything okay at Anvil?”

“You’re still at the apartment, right? You didn’t leave.”

You looked around for some reason and then sat up a bit straighter.

“Yeah, I’m still here. What happened?”

There was a lot going on in the background in the call and you strained your ears enough to pick up a few words. By things you could hear, Billy was near a bunch of cops.

“There was another murder. Your next door neighbor, Melinda Geillis.”

You knew Melinda well enough, the two of you often talked in the elevators or hallway. You closed your eyes tightly and shook your head.

“Are we sure it was him?”

Billy said something quietly to someone nearby and then it was quiet on the other side of the phone.

“Her throat was slit and then she was dragged into your apartment and propped up on your couch like she was watching television.”

The memory of your brother’s body flashed before your eyes. Yeah, that was him. 

“There’s a note here too. It says ‘sorry I missed you’.”

You flinched at that. Then your hand went to your pocket where Billy’s note was. The feel of the paper comforted you a bit.

“Dad said he saw him, recognized the outfit from the night of the attack. He also said he heard his voice. The guy came by after the accident and was taunting my dad, either because he thought he was dead or thought he wouldn’t hear. He said it was about time.”

Billy swore through his teeth. You could almost picture his face as he absorbed that information.

“We’re gonna catch this guy, okay? Nothing is going to happen to you or to your dad. Not again.”

You let out a breath and then slumped against the couch a bit.

“How’d you find out anyway? I mean, if it was in my apartment, you’d think I would have heard about it first.”

“I was driving by and saw the police presence,” Billy explained softly as someone came through the room he was in, talking about taking pictures. “I asked what happened and they let me know. I’ve worked with enough local law enforcement so they let me up. The detective in charge is going to call you, but…I wanted to be the one to tell you.”

You laughed a bit as you reached up to rub at your eyes.

“Thank you Billy. Really.”

“I’ll come pick you up and bring you to the station so we can coordinate with the locals. Just stay inside and keep the door locked, okay? There’s a spare gun in the safe; the combination is 7895.”

You looked over at the safe, but didn’t make moves to go get it. You weren’t big on guns.

“I’ll see you shortly Billy. Thanks again.”

When the call was over, you leaned back and wrapped your arms around your legs. It had been such a long morning already and you’d only been awake for an hour. 

At some point this would be over, wouldn’t it? One way or another.

—

The police station wasn’t a place you’d spent a lot of time since you’d come to the city. Once upon a time, in the little seaside town you’d grown up in, you’d been in the police station a lot. Not for any nefarious reasons of course, simply because your dad had worked for the force. You’d gotten comfortable in police stations.

Now though? You had to admit that you were very uneasy. It wasn’t the people themselves of course, they were just your run of the mill law enforcement officers. No, you were uneasy because of the reason you were there.

Billy had suggested that you not see the pictures from the crime scene, but you reminded him that you had lived through it once. 

It was like seeing a ghost. Your neighbor’s body was propped up in a mirror of your brother’s, down to the television being on in front of her and playing the news. You tried not to stare into her lifeless eyes, but in the close up picture your only other option was to look at the gash across her neck.

There had been a struggle. She had fought hard.

After some questions and rehashing the details with the police, you were led to the front lobby to leave, but Billy doubled back to coordinate coverage at your dad’s hospital room. While he did that, you called your dad to let him know what was going on.

“You gotta leave the city,” your dad said sternly. “I don’t want to lose you. You need to leave, you need to get somewhere this maniac will never find you.”

“Dad, I can’t leave. Look what happened when I stayed somewhere else for one night? Who knows what will happen if–”

“Hey, they said we can head out whenever,” Billy called as he approached. He nodded to where your phone was against your ear, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just my dad. Hey dad, I’ve got to–”

Your name from your dad made you pause what you were saying, only slightly annoyed by being interrupted again. Something in your dad’s voice made you stop speaking, stop breathing. There was terror in his voice.

“Who is that? With you right now. Who is with you?”

You looked over at Billy who was frowning in concern.

“It’s my friend Billy, the one I’ve told you about? He’s the one that brought me to the police station after what happened at my apartment.”

There was a long pause that made you a little antsy.

“You need to get away from him right now. You need to get out of there. Immediately.”

“Dad–”

“Stop. Don’t let him know, but leave. Go back into the station, stay with them. Get away from him. That’s the voice I heard after my accident.”

You swallowed thickly as you heard those words, your eyes going from Billy to the door he had just come through. You could see police officers moving around through the glass door. From the peripheral you could see Billy watching you, barely making out the concern still on his face as you stood a little straighter.

“Are you sure?”

“I can’t be one hundred percent sure, not over a phone, but it sounds just like him. Please, get away from him.”

With your eyes closed, you listened to your dad plead with you while you remembered the way that Billy had touched you the night before. Was it possible? Was it possible that Billy was this person that was tormenting you? Killing people?

The things you knew about Billy told you that anything was possible. 

You nodded and then made a noise like you were listening to your dad as you reached and patted yourself, as if looking for something.

“Billy, can you check and see if I left my wallet in the interview room,” you said with a glance over at him. “I don’t want to see the pictures again but I think I left my wallet in there.”

“Sure,” he said with a nod and a brief touch to your arm.

When he disappeared behind the door to head back to the interview room, you grabbed your wallet out of your pocket and nearly ran from the police station. On the road you found a cab that was thankfully letting someone out of the door at the same time that you’d gotten there, so you simply slid right in. Then you thought about where to go.

After you gave the address to the hospital your dad was at, you glanced over your shoulder to the door of the police station. Right as the cab started to pull away from the curb, you saw Billy step out and look around. You didn’t know if he saw you or not, but you settled back into your seat and let out a sigh.

“I’m headed to you dad,” you said softly. “I don’t know if you’re right, I don’t see how Billy could…but I’m on my way.”

You had no idea how to explain what your dad may or may not have heard. You couldn’t imagine that Billy was the one that had done those things. How would he have even been involved?

But you remembered that every time something had happened, Billy had been gone. He’d been on the road after the attacks back home, he’d been out when the note had been left on your car and your dad had been hit, he’d been out when your neighbor was attacked.

Was it possible that billy wasn’t who you thought he was? Was it possible that you’d slept with someone you shouldn’t have trusted?

The mere thought made your stomach turn.

—

The officer at the door was a bit confused when you told him not to let an Anvil employee watch the door alone, but he reluctantly agreed without you explaining why. He was agreeable otherwise.

Your dad looked rough, but he smiled tightly when you came into the room. His eyes cut to the door and then back to you as you shut it behind you.

“His men were out there, weren’t they? Are they still?”

“Not right now,” you said as you went over to his side to grab his hand. “I still don’t know for sure, but if that’s what you heard, then I have to trust you.”

Your dad winced as he leaned closer to you, his hand tight on yours. 

“We can’t stay here. From what I’ve been able to tell, he has a lot of pull with the locals.”

“Dad, you can’t go anywhere. Look at you, you’re barely able to sit up right now. I can’t lug you around, I’m not strong enough for that.”

Your dad closed his eyes and nodded slowly. 

“So you need to go somewhere else. Somewhere without telling anyone. Once you’re gone, I’ll talk to a detective about my theory and we’ll have him looked into.”

You shook your head as he spoke.

“No, I can’t leave without you,” you cried as you hugged him, gently to keep from hurting him. “If something happened to you while I was gone, it would kill me. I can’t lose you.”

“I’ll be safe here until I’m able to get out myself. I’ll call a friend to come sit with me for a while. You’re my only concern, you’re my priority.”

You wiped your tears off your cheeks as you pulled back a bit. With a sniffle you glanced over at the door to see the back of the cop’s head as he pulled his phone to his ear. As he nodded and looked over his shoulder at you, you felt something cold wash over you.

“I have to go now. I think Billy’s trying to find out if I’m here.”

“Then go sweetheart. Do you remember the plan for Tallahassee?”

The codeword made you shake a bit. It was picked after your mom and brother had been killed as it’s where your mom had originally been from. If something ever happened and you and your dad had to run off, you’d go to a location that was a secret between the two of you. Far away from Tallahassee, but it was a word that could be used even in front of others without being discovered.

You really hoped you never had to use it.

“One week and then I’ll head to Tallahassee,” you said as you stood up and wiped tears from your eyes again. “Then when you’re better, you can join me.”

“One week for us both, whether or not I’m feeling better.” 

The old man was stubborn. You laughed a bit as you leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek. Then the forehead.

“I love you dad,” you said as you placed another kiss on his forehead.

“I love you too kiddo,” he repeated as he squeezed your hand. “Go. Get out of here and be safe.”

That’s all that there was to it. And now you needed to figure out where to go to wait out the week.

You’d need to stop at some ATMs to get money out so that you wouldn’t leave a trail. Something told you that Billy would use whatever resources he had to find you and you weren’t going to give him that chance.

—

The man at the front desk of the motel didn’t even look at your ID or anything else as you pushed the cash over for the week. He simply counted the bills and then handed you the key.

“Ice machine doesn’t work, vending machines are on the first floor, pool is closed for now.”

You tucked the rest of your money into your waller and palmed the key, mumbling a thanks to him as you turned and walked out of the office. Your room was on the second floor so you made it up the stairs with the crinkle of the grocery bags you carried your freshly bought clothes in. At room 17, you put the key into the lock and turned it. It stuck a bit but came open after that.

“Home sweet home,” you muttered as you dropped the grocery bags onto the bed. 

You’d bought some clothes and some other necessities on your way out of the city. Here you were, about six hours from the city, settling into a motel that didn’t even have a sign to tell you the name.

At some point you’d need to go to the vending machines and get a few snacks. Maybe try to find a local grocery store where you could get some nonperishable items. There was a microwave in the room and a mini-fridge. More like a mini-mini-fridge, but whatever.

You felt naked without your cell phone, but you definitely knew that you could be tracked with that, so you’d left it at the hospital. 

With a sigh you sat on the bed and grimaced a bit at the hardness of the mattress. Not exactly comfortable, but you’d make do. If it meant not losing your life, you’d lose some comfort. The remote was next to the bed so you grabbed it and turned the television on, turning the volume down a good deal just in case. You never trusted these places. 

One channel surf later you landed on the news. It touched on a bunch of national stuff before it narrowed in to local and you waited to see if anything would come up about the killer. It never came.

After the news cycled over to some infomercials, you grabbed some money and left your room, locking it behind you. You checked your surroundings carefully before you headed down the stairs to the vending machine.

There were only about five cars in the parking lot besides yours. You looked over each and tried to commit them to memory before you stepped into the alcove where the vending machines were. You grabbed a bottle of water and an energy drink from one and then some chips and some chocolate from the other. Hands full, you stepped out of the alcove and looked around on your way to the stairs.

Six cars.

You stopped where you were and stared at the new car, a nondescript dark colored sedan. Between the distance and the darkness, you couldn’t tell if there was anyone in the car. They were parked in front of the office though, so it was possible that it was another person here just to get a room. It wasn’t far off the beaten track from the interstate so maybe they found it the same way you did.

With a deep inhale, you held your breath and ran up the stairs. You had to juggle the items in your hands to get your key back out and back into the room. It didn’t stick this time so you were able to get in and shut it behind you in mere seconds, locking it and the chain behind you.

Then you pulled the chair from the corner and pushed it in front of the door.

Once that was done you put your items down on the dresser and moved further into the room. The bathroom was open so you could see into it clearly, but you turned on the light and looked around just in case. Even checked behind the shower curtain. Then you checked the half closet which wasn’t really big enough to hold a grown man.

You looked under the bed but there was a trundle bed so not enough room for someone to fit.

Satisfied that the room was empty besides yourself, you went over to the window and peered out. The angle you had didn’t allow you to see much, but you could see your car at least. 

Tomorrow you’d head out to a nearby grocery or convenience store to get what you needed for the rest of the week. Once you were through the week and could head to the meeting place with your dad, things would be fine. You’d be safe again.

You still couldn’t believe that Billy was the one doing this to you. Part of you refused to believe it, the part that had had sex with him and laid in his arms the whole night. The rest of you had more questions than you had answers and when faced with the unknown, you had to rely on what you could put together. Your dad had said he couldn’t be certain but felt it was a close enough similarity to demand you leave and save yourself.

That night when you curled up on the hard as hell mattress, the thin blanket pulled over your body and the television providing light into the room, you weren’t sure you’d ever fall asleep. Not with how your brain was on turbo mode.

But you were able to finally fall asleep somewhere after two in the morning.

—

The third night at the motel had been as uneventful as the other two. You had gotten some food at a nearby convenience store so you didn’t have to rely on vending machine snacks. You also got a deck of cards so you could play solitaire with yourself to waste time.

The news still didn’t say anything about what was happening, but you had to imagine there were constant murders in the city so maybe it didn’t make the radar yet. You didn’t know how many more deaths it would take for it to hit the news cycle but you hoped it didn’t get to that.

As you crossed the room to do your hourly check of the window, you wondered what everyone else was doing. Your dad, Karen, Frank…even Billy.

Since you’d been in the motel, you’d spent a lot of time thinking about Billy. Thinking about him being the killer, thinking about it all being a miscommunication. The more you thought about him, the less you felt certain one way or another.

As you stared out the window, you checked the parts of the parking lot that you could see and then looked over to where your car was parked. As you looked at it, you noticed someone walking past your car and towards the office. It was dark so you couldn’t make out who the person was, but you traced their steps back to see if there was another car nearby that they had come out of.

There was a truck not far from your car that was in line with the path they were taking, but it had been there since yesterday. 

You looked at the chair in front of your door and made sure it was still pressed against the door. This way at least you knew you would have a warning if someone tried to get into the room while you were there.

Back on the bed you grabbed the cards and shuffled them a bit. It was time for more solitaire. You really wished you’d grabbed something else, anything else at this point. It was hard to go without a phone to spend your time, but you were making do. 

A noise outside made you look over to the window with the blinds down. A streetlight let a little light in and you stared at it for a long time until you watched a little darkness move over the window. Someone was walking past your window towards your door.

You held your breath and waited. When you heard the door beside yours open, you let it out with a sigh. It was another person staying in the hotel.

Without winning the current game of solitaire, you turned off the light and stacked the cards on the bedside table. You had a flashlight that you’d gotten at the convenience store that you kept nearby as you curled up on the bed, your eyes on the window and door. When no sounds came to you, no change in the minimal light that trickled through, you felt yourself drift off to sleep.

A dream came to you then, while you dozed in and out. A darkness seemed to pour into the room from the ceiling, like a shadow but more solid. The darkness seemed to melt and shift along the lines of the ceiling, never fully there as you stared up at it.When you woke up, it was with your back to the window and door, a blank wall in front of you. The first thing you did was look up to the ceiling but there were no shadows moving around.

You rolled over to your other side and immediately checked the window, but nothing had changed. It was still dark out there, still a slight amount of light pouring through the window. You blinked lazily and rubbed your eyes before you looked at the door to check that the chair was still there.

It wasn’t. It was in the corner now and someone was in it.

You sat up and opened your mouth to scream, but it didn’t come out as the occupant leaned forward and was lit up by the incoming light stream.

Billy.

“How’d you find me?”

There was a beat of silence as he nodded then sat back so that he disappeared a bit from your sight. 

“It wasn’t easy. You really tried to drop off the grid. It’s my job to be able to find people though.”

“Yeah,” you said uneasily as you shrank back in the bed a bit, your legs pulling to your chest and bracing just in case you needed to jump up. “How’d you get in here without making a noise? The chair…”

“Took some maneuvering. I figured you’d do something like that.”

You blinked and tried to nod a bit. Of course he’d know how to get through your defenses. You should have known.

“What are you going to do to me?”

It was quiet for a long moment before Billy leaned forward again to look at you. You wished you could see whatever emotions were in those dark eyes, but from this distance the dark brown was pitch black and it made you feel hunted.

“Why would I do anything to you? I just wanted to make sure you were safe.”

Safe. You’d heard the word a lot, but it had been a long time since you felt it. And right then, with Billy sitting in a chair across the room, you didn’t know if safe is what you felt at all.

What was the next step? Did you confront him for who you suspected he was? Did you wait for him to prove you right or wrong? 

“Why didn’t you let me protect you? I could have gotten you and your dad somewhere safe. Then maybe…”

You watched as he looked away from you, his eyebrows furrowed. 

“Maybe what?”

He looked over at you and shook his head.

“You left your phone at the hospital so you hadn’t heard. The killer broke into the hospital, somehow got through the security we had on your dad. He survived, got a few stab wounds, but the killer took down two of my men and a police officer.”

You felt sick. Your body bowed in and you pressed your face into your knees as you thought about it. At least your dad was alive, but being stabbed on top of already suffering from the car accident couldn’t be good. 

“He’s alive. He’ll stay alive,” Billy said as a hand came down to rest on your shoulder.

You jerked backwards as he touched you, body nearly falling off the bed as you tried to get away from the touch. When you looked up and met his concerned gaze, you couldn’t help the pitiful laugh that came from you.

“What will it take? What do I have to do?”

Your stomach rolled as you thought about what he might say.

“What are you talking about?”

At some point tears had started to flow down your cheeks as you stared up at Billy. His hand on your shoulder, the scent of the cologne that he always wore, it made you feel lost in memories you couldn’t afford to be lost in.

“He heard your voice. The day of his accident, he heard the killer and when he heard your voice at the police station, he said it was you.”

Billy’s hand fell to his side as he stared down at your crumpled form.

“My voice? So you…what, think I’m the other murderer? This whole time. Even from when you were in high school?”

You closed your eyes for a long moment and then shook your head.

“I don’t…I don’t know Billy. He said he heard you. And every time there was a murder, you weren’t with someone who could account for your whereabouts. What am I supposed to think?”

He crossed his arms and took a few steps back to lean against the wall across from you.

“I’ve killed before. More than a few times and not all of them deserved it. But I never killed anyone stateside that I didn’t have to.”

You wrapped your arms around yourself as you stared at Billy.

“He heard you Billy. He recognized your voice.”

“He had a concussion. Maybe he heard something, someone, but how could he be sure it was me? Especially since the second time was just over the phone.”

You wiped the tears out of your eyes as you stared up at him.

“I can’t take the chance Billy. I can’t take the chance that you’re someone who wants to hurt me.”

“I could never hurt you,” Billy swore as he walked closer to you. Then he shook his head as he turned away. “But you’re right. You can���t take the chance. If I’d known this was your worry, I never would have come here.”

He got to the door and right as you thought about telling him not to leave, to ask him to talk the rest of this through with you, he opened the door and things happened so quickly after that.

A masked man stood on the other side of the door. The moment it came open, he raised his knife and brought it down hard into Billy’s shoulder. You screamed and shoved yourself up and off the bed, body stuck between going to the door and further away. 

You grabbed Billy and pulled him back, body slamming against the door to try to close it. Billy threw his body weight into it too, wincing as the shoulder with the blood pouring through it slammed against the wood. The two of you got the door slammed shut but you still didn’t move.

“Believe me now?” Billy asked through gritted teeth as he moved around you to peer through the peephole. “He’s not there. He’ll come back though.”

You nodded as you tried to get your brain to get back on path. While Billy kept his body against the door, you grabbed a washcloth from the dresser and pressed it hard against his shoulder to stem the blood flow.

“What are we going to do?”

Billy accepted the cloth and held it against his shoulder. With his free hand he reached into his jacket and pulled out a knife which he pressed into your hands. As you were about to ask what he was going to use, he pulled a gun out of the waistband of his jeans and checked that it was ready..

“We need to make a run for the car. We can call the cops once we’re on the road.”

You nodded and grabbed your wallet from the dresser and shoved it into the pocket of your sweats. There was nothing else here that you needed to make sure you had. Prepared, you grabbed Billy’s uninjured shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

“I should go first.”

“I don’t care if I was missing an arm. You’re not going first,” Billy said through gritted teeth as he shoved the cloth under his jacket. Then he moved to tuck you behind him. “You stay at my back, okay? Keep the knife up and let me know if I need to turn and shoot. Are you ready?”

No. 

“Yeah,” you breathed as you stood at his side.

He went out first and looked both directions a few times before he motioned for you to follow him. He gestured to keep you close to him. You stepped out and didn’t bother shutting the door as the two of you headed to the stairs. As you made your way past the front office, you noticed blood sprayed on the wall behind where the man had sat at the computer.

“Oh god,” you whimpered as you kept as close to Billy as you could.

“Eyes forward baby, we can’t wait. We’re almost there.”

He was leading you to his car, not yours. You looked behind the two of you to see if someone was out there, aware of what was going on, but you saw nothing. Heard nothing but the pounding of your heart between your ears.

At the car, Billy unlocked it and tugged you to go to the passenger door. As you reached out, you saw something from the corner of your eye.

“BILLY!”

He spun you around and thrust himself between the two of you, his gun raised at the man that had been running at you. He stopped, his knife still raised. The eerie black mask tilted this way and that as he stared at the two of you.

“You can’t win. Gun beats knife.”

“I don’t have to win. I just have to take one of you down with me.”

That voice. It sounded similar to Billy’s, enough that if you’d heard it you might think the same thing. But you didn’t dwell on that as you watched the man launch himself forward at the two of you. The gun went off and the attacker faltered, but he kept on running. When his body ran into Billy’s and shoved you against the car, you heard the gun skitter to the asphalt. 

As the attacker stabbed the knife into Billy’s side again, the moan of pain coming from the man you were trying to hold up, you realized that you didn’t have a choice. You had to lean around Billy to do what you needed to.

The knife went straight into the attacker’s bicep first. Then you pulled it out and swung out, harder this time. As it went into the attacker’s neck, Billy reached up and took hold of your wrist and thrusted it in harder. The attacker’s scream echoed through the emptyish parking lot, you stepped around Billy and pulled the knife out before you plunged it in again. 

Billy’s hand didn’t leave your wrist as you thrusted the knife into the man’s neck and chest, over and over. When the attacker fell, you almost went with him just to keep going, but Billy wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you up.

“He’s gone,” Billy said into your ear as he held you tight. “He’s gone. You can stop.”

You closed your eyes for a long moment before you looked at the body slumped at your feet. He was gone. He was gone and this was over.

The knife fell to the ground next, clattering loudly as it bounced a bit. Your eyes burned as you stared at the man who had tried once more to end your life.

“Who…”

Billy squeezed your hip and then bent down. You shook your head because you didn’t know where Billy’s wounds were but you were worried he would hurt himself worse than he already was. You followed him down, hands immediately on his sides to check his injuries.

“No, no, stop,” he said as he pushed your hands away for a second. “We need to…”

He reached out for the man’s mask but you grabbed his wrist and stopped him. When he pulled his hand away, you reached out for the mask yourself.

The man under it was completely nondescript. You weren’t sure that you’d ever seen him before in your life, not here or back home. He looked like any man you may have passed on the street a thousand times.

“I don’t know who that is,” you said as you stared at him.

“He’s dead. That’s who he is.”

You slumped on the ground next to the car. When Billy passed his cell phone to you, you immediately dialed 911. Billy needed an ambulance. And this needed to be put to an end immediately.

As the dispatcher answered, you remembered the first time you’d made this call. Instead of staring at the death of your mom and brother, you were staring at Billy’s bleeding body and his tired eyes.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“I need an ambulance and a lot of cops. We were just attacked by a known serial killer and we had to kill him to defend ourselves.”

Billy smiled with pride at you as he reached out to grab your hand in his.

—

The room your dad was in was a different one this time, but you found it easily enough. When you walked in, your dad was talking to the nurse quietly. She smiled and waved at you as she turned to leave, giving you the space to nearly climb into your dad’s bed to hug him.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you mumbled softly as you tucked your face into his neck.

His arms went around you and you noticed one arm didn’t have the same strength as the other. Still, he didn’t let you go for a long time.

“I’m sorry sweetheart,” your dad finally said as you pulled away. “If I hadn’t accused Billy, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“We can’t think about what might have happened,” you said as you grabbed his hand to hold it tight in yours.

The injuries from the accident were mostly healed but now your dad had the knife wounds to heal from. The doctors promised that he would make a full recovery and that it wouldn’t hold him back any. 

“I’m just glad it’s over. That you’re safe.”

You sat with that for a long moment. As terrified as you had been for so long, even before you knew there was someone out to get you, it had been so hard to feel safe. Your memories and nightmares kept you on the edge, even when you were supposed to be safe.

The only times those memories and nightmares stopped were when you were with Billy. 

“When he’s better, I want to meet Billy. I want to apologize in person. He deserves that much.”

You glanced at your dad and then back down to your clasped hands. 

“If I hadn’t left, he wouldn’t have been hurt. I should have talked to him, heard him out instead of just running.”

Your dad squeezed your hand until you looked up at him.

“It’s not your fault. I told you to leave. You listened to me.” 

“I’m an adult dad, I could have stood up for myself at any point. I believed you because I think part of me didn’t trust Billy but I should have.”

You knew things about Billy and Frank, things that made it a little easier to believe that he would. Although knowing those things, you shouldn’t have assumed anything. You knew Billy better than that. At least you should have.

“It wouldn’t surprise me if he told me he never wanted to see me again.”

You tugged on the fabric of your scrub pants, provided by a nurse at some point. The police had gathered your clothes for evidence since they had been drenched in blood. Mostly Billy’s.

“Kiddo, from what I’ve seen and heard since all of this happened, that man isn’t going to turn away just because of some stabs. He moved heaven and earth to find you when you ran off. The only other reason for him to do that besides being the killer is because he cares.”

You laughed and shook your head, but didn’t say anything. Instead you moved to lean into your dad’s arms once more.

“It’s all going to be okay sweetheart. It’s over.”

He was right, it was all over. It was going to be okay.

Somehow.

—

The room Billy was in was on a different floor. When you knocked on the door, his voice called out that you could enter. He was sitting up on the bed, a tablet in his hands as he looked through it. When he looked up, he seemed surprised to see you. 

“Hey,” you said slowly, drawing the word out a lot longer than it needed to. “I don’t have to stay or anything, I just wanted to check on you.”

His eyebrows furrowed as he put the tablet down to the side.

“Why wouldn’t you stay?”

You shifted a bit before you took two steps into the room.

“You wouldn’t be in that bed if it wasn’t for me. Plus the whole, you know, thinking you were a serial killer thing.”

Billy laughed which surprised you. He gestured you over to him and after you glanced over at the chair a few feet away, he made a soft ‘tsk’ sound before he patted the bed beside him. 

As you sat down on the very edge of the bed, Billy made that noise again and tugged you to him. You immediately froze and checked to make sure you hadn’t landed on any of the bandages on his chest, but he shook his head when he could tell what you were looking for.

“I’ve had worse,” he said as he put his hand over the bandage on his side.

“Billy, I–”

“Unless the next words out of your mouth are ‘understand that this wasn’t my fault’ then I’m not sure I want to hear them.”

“It was my fault though. If I hadn’t left without even talking to you, hadn’t thought you were the killer, you wouldn’t have had to come find me. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

Fingers under your chin made you move your head until you met Billy’s dark eyes. 

“Given the chance, I would always put my body between you and danger. Whether or not you thought I was the danger. And in the end, you know I wasn’t involved.” After a beat of silence, he narrowed his eyes and gave you a small smirk. “You do know that I wasn’t involved, don’t you?”

You laughed and leaned into the hand on your face a little.

“If this was a movie or something, it might not mean that you were uninvolved. But this isn’t a movie, it’s real life. So no, I don’t still think you were involved.”

Billy laughed and released your chin but only so that he could reach down and run his fingers over your wrist a bit.

“I’m just glad that nothing happened to you. It would have…I don’t think I could have handled it if something would have happened to you while you were running from me.”

You didn’t want to think about that either. Billy being there had been a fluke, it should have just been you against him. That made you look at his bandages once more.

“It feels wrong somehow that you and dad got hurt this time but I didn’t. I’m glad that Frank and Karen had gotten out of town and were safe, but I came out of this without a scratch on me and both of you had been attacked.”

“I like to think of it as cosmic karma.” At your confused look, Billy explained. “The last time, you were the one that went through it all. You saw the dead bodies of your mom and brother, you got chased around the basement, you’re the one that had to fight for your life, you’re the one that still wears the scars. In more ways than one. So this time, we were able to take that for you. We can bear those for you.”

You didn’t even realize you were crying until he wiped the tears away. You sniffled and wiped at your face as you looked away from a long moment, gathering your thoughts.

“Do you think…”

You didn’t know how to continue the thought. When you didn’t, Billy called your name. As you looked up, he leaned forward until he could press his mouth against yours.

“Karen and Frank will be happy about this development at least,” he said as he pressed his forehead against yours. “They’ve been telling me to get over my hesitation and ask you out for a while. I just wanted to give you space until you were ready.”

With a laugh you raised your hand and pulled Billy back in for another kiss.

It had been a tough few years since the original murders. Safety had been hard to come by. Since then you had kept yourself caged and terrified the whole time. It had been hard to make connections with people over the last few years. But now? Even before the encounter in the parking lot with you killing the man who had tormented you.

Now you were thinking it was time for you to live your life once more. You smiled and leaned back between kisses to mutter two words to Billy.

“I’m ready.”

X

Thank you for reading this year's Halloween fic! I hope you enjoyed!

[mariaenchanted]

Fingers crossed the universe gives me a few minutes this morning to give y'all part 90 of FFTD in a bit (AKA fingers crossed my toddler plays with something for a bit after breakfast 🤞🏻). Also, how are we at NINETY installments already? I still remember starting this series a bit ago 😭

[mariaenchanted]

Oh yeah! I mean i want to smack Matt in the head when he is just making assumptions.

Seeking Forgiveness [Part Three]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3k

[Full summary and installment list for this series can be found here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ contains angst, emotional hurt, delayed comfort, pregnant Reader

a/n: This one is entirely in Matt's POV and I'm curious to see how y'all react to his side of things! Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag List: @mattmurdocksstarlight @just-going-through-the-motions @paracosmic-murdock @yeonalie @auroraslibrary @1988-fiend @will-delete-this-later-probably@two-unbeatable-beaters @danzer8705 @ragamuffin285 @callmebrooklynbabes @spookyboogyuniverse @peachy-aisha @stevenknightmarc @nerdytreeflower @fucktthisworld @remuslupinwifee @kmc1989 @mywellspringoflife @thornbushrose @yarrystyleeza @shiorimakibawrites @thychuvaluswife @marvelcinematiquniverse @vallovesthedilfs @scoliobean @this--is--music

The ear-splitting and repeated honking of car horns on the street below harshly woke Matt, the sound shrill and piercing first thing in the morning. Seconds later the continuing noise drew forth a pounding headache that reverberated painfully in his head. Gritting his teeth in frustration, he rolled onto his side with a groan, his entire body loudly protesting the movement. He could feel a few new bruises he'd added to the others already scattered around his body, the new ones violently throbbing along his lower back and his left shoulder as consciousness abruptly returned to him.

Matt had been out well into the early morning hours running around Hell’s Kitchen tracking a man by the name of Petrov. He was the man that Matt had recently come to learn was the current leader of the Russian mafia now settled in his city. All of last night he had been trying to figure out where the new shipment of drugs would be coming into Hell's Kitchen at, but he'd yet again come home without the information he'd wanted. In a sour mood, he'd taken his anger out on a mugger while returning to his apartment, leaving the man more battered than he probably should have. 

And his sour mood quickly returned when he realized he was alone in his bed again, the cold from the lack of you often curled under the sheets with him exceptionally noticeable this morning–more than it had been for the past few weeks. Because you had left him, deciding not to stay and wait for him to return the other night. Leaving him like everyone else always did, unable to accept that he and the Devil were the same man. That he needed to let that other side of himself out to protect Hell’s Kitchen.

He'd heard the way you'd slammed the door on your way out of his apartment that night. He knew how hurt and upset you’d been. But when you’d started crying because he had been planning to go out again, he'd wanted to comfort you– tried to–but you'd rejected him so easily instead. And that hurt him deeply. Because Matt had always thought you were different, that you understood him. That you loved him for who he was–you'd certainly always assured him that you did. 

But it sure as hell hadn’t felt like that to him the other night. Not with how quick you were to reject him and walk out on him. You’d never tried to reach out to him all of Friday, either. Whatever important thing you’d wanted to discuss with him the other night must’ve been what he’d initially suspected it to be. That you wanted to end the relationship. Truthfully he hadn’t wanted to hear you say the words out loud which was partially why he didn’t want to give you a chance to speak.

Matt knew he'd been canceling plans on you repeatedly, though he admittedly hadn't realized just for how long he'd been doing it with the way his days had been blurring together from his lack of proper sleep. But it hadn't been intentional. He hadn't meant to hurt you and he'd felt terrible every single time he had. It always nagged at him while he was out, the memory of the way your heart stuttered each and every time you saw him in his suit never far from his mind as he tried to focus on his late night task. 

And it wasn't like he was out cheating on you or ditching you for his friends. What he was doing was the equivalent of being needed at a job–because that's how he saw what he did. As a responsibility he had to the people of Hell’s Kitchen. He'd honestly thought he'd be able to make it up to you once he'd gotten the situation with the Russians under control, but apparently he wasn't important enough for you to wait for him. And sure, he had to admit that he'd been awful to you the other night with the way he'd spoken to you, but the judgment and rejection from you had really upset him, as did the fear of hearing you tell him you were done with him. So he'd closed himself off to you, hoping to lessen how much you leaving him would hurt.

But Matt didn’t want to think about that this morning. His head ached enough from all the physical exertion last night and from not getting enough sleep. Those damn cars honking had ruined whatever sleeping in he hoped he’d have this Saturday morning, the sound of the city far too loud for him to lay back down and fall asleep now. 

Though if you’d been here–

With a growl Matt tore the sheets off of himself, tossing his legs over the side of his bed and shoving all thoughts of you to the side. He didn’t want to think about you right now. He wanted coffee, desperately hoping that would wake him up and help the throbbing of his head.

Shuffling out of his bedroom, half limping in pain as he walked, he navigated his way through his living room and into the kitchen. He went straight for his coffee maker, turning it on and preparing a pot of coffee. He knew he was going to need a few cups already. 

As the coffee brewed, Matt leant his back against the kitchen counter. His eyes closed as he ran a hand over his tired face, aware that his apartment seemed noticeably quieter and lonelier without you here. He’d been noticing that for weeks now, and every time he did he felt his heart sink a bit in his chest. Though this morning he almost felt sick at the emptiness here, as if someone had punched him right in the gut when he realized you were never coming back.

But you’d made that choice, he reminded himself. You had walked out on him. That thought only had Matt grinding his teeth together, anger coursing through him.

You weren’t the woman he’d thought you were after all. And that hurt.

The coffee machine began to sputter out his coffee, the noise loud and irritating to his ears this morning. Matt turned around, reaching a hand up to grab a mug from the open shelf on the wall. But a round of knocks coming from his apartment door rang out and he hesitated, his hand hovering just before the row of coffee cups. Brows furrowing together, his head shifted over his shoulder as he wondered how he’d been so absorbed in his thoughts that he hadn’t realized someone had approached his door. Though after a few seconds he soon realized that it was Foggy standing in the hallway and flipping through some paperwork that he’d brought with him.

Matt’s hand dropped to his side and he turned, a frown settling on his lips as he made his way through his kitchen and down his entryway hall. He unlocked the door, briskly swinging it open. It didn’t escape his notice how Foggy had startled in the hall at the abruptness.

“Fog,” Matt greeted flatly.

He could practically feel the way his friend’s eyes scanned over him, the sound of Foggy’s face shifting into a frown not lost on Matt. He imagined the bruises were quite visible, especially since he hadn’t managed to put a shirt on.

“You look like shit, Matt,” Foggy stated bluntly. “How long were you out last night?”

Matt turned, leaving the door open as he half-limped, half-shuffled his way back down the entryway hall. He listened as Foggy stepped inside, closing the door after himself before slipping out of his shoes. By the time Foggy had followed Matt into the kitchen, Matt had already managed to pour himself a cup of coffee, drinking a sip of it black.

“You want some coffee?” Matt asked him, avoiding the initial question.

“No, I’m good,” Foggy answered slowly, resting his arms on the kitchen counter and leaning over it. “I had some earlier before I left to come deliver the documents I told you I was bringing over this morning. Which I’m guessing…you forgot about, judging by the fact that it looks like you just rolled out of a dumpster that you used for a bed.”

Matt’s lips pursed together at Foggy as he drew his mug back up to his mouth, his eyes narrowing in obvious irritation. “Not a morning for jokes, Fog.”

“Is there ever with you lately?” Foggy grumbled. 

Matt drank down more of his coffee, the throbbing of his head not helped by the way Foggy was drumming his fingers along the countertop. He could hear the way his friend was looking around his apartment, probably noticing the way it had looked neater than usual. Which was due to the fact that neither of you had been in his apartment much for the past few weeks. The moment he heard Foggy’s mouth open, inhaling that small bit of breath, Matt knew what he was going to say. And it wasn’t a subject he wanted to discuss.

“Where’s your other half?” Foggy asked, glancing back towards the closed bedroom door, entirely missing the way Matt had winced at the question. “Thought she usually spent the weekends with you. Is she still asleep?”

Matt ground his teeth together, roughly exhaling a sharp breath. He knew he’d ask about you.

“No, she’s not here,” Matt replied coldly.

He heard the way Foggy had stiffened against the counter at his words and the tone of his voice. Slowly, Foggy’s head turned back towards Matt. Matt’s lips thinned out in irritation, not liking the minute shift in Foggy’s posture.

“So the documents–”

“What’d you do, Matt?” Foggy asked sharply, cutting him off.

Matt’s hand gripped his coffee mug tighter in his fist, surprising even himself when it didn’t break in his grip. His jaw clenched at the question and the accusation from his best friend.

“What makes you think this was my fault?” he growled back, voice low and dangerous.

Foggy was nodding swiftly as if he’d known something had happened. He didn’t seem remotely affected by Matt’s obvious anger, clearly prepared to discuss this more. That only annoyed Matt further.

“So you two broke up? Karen and I thought as much with the way you’d been mopey and snippy around the office yesterday,” Foggy said. “What happened? Because one minute you’re telling me she’s the one, that she’s going to move in with you soon, and the next–” he waved a hand around the apartment, “–you’re a damn bachelor again. So what’d you do? Because I know damn well she didn’t end things, not with the way she always looked at you like the sun rises and falls out of your ass, Matt.”

“ She left me ,” Matt snarled back. “Why the hell is that so difficult for you to understand, Fog? Why must you always assume that I did something? Clearly she wasn’t who I thought she was because she couldn’t accept me and what I do. Who I am .”

“Ahh,” Foggy said, pushing off the counter. “This is because of Daredevil. I figured as much. So tell me what happened then, because I’m about to slap you upside the head and tell you you’re wrong.”

Matt stalked across the kitchen in aggravation, slamming his mug down onto the counter that separated him from Foggy. The hot liquid splashed over his hand as Foggy briefly jumped at his outburst. The faint scent of fear soon hitting his nose was what had Matt’s eyes snapping shut, aware he was getting too riled up at this topic. That his anger was finally starting to make Foggy nervous.

Because it was about you and it hurt.

“She said she had something she needed to tell me,” Matt replied through clenched teeth, trying to rein in his frustration and heartache. “But I needed to go out as Daredevil. I was planning to interrupt a meeting with the Russians. The ones I’d been telling you about.” He exhaled a sharp breath, his left hand clamping onto the kitchen counter as he continued, hoping to ground himself and control his rage. “She was upset that I was going out again when we’d had plans. Said she really needed to talk to me. So I told her she could tell me afterwards when I came back and she got upset.”

There was a brief silence following his explanation, Matt hearing the way Foggy’s head had shifted to the side.

“And you were…growly Devil when you were talking with her weren’t you?” Foggy asked, gesturing a hand at Matt. “Like you are now?”

Matt grunted, shame burning through him as his eyes once again fell shut. Yes. 

“Maybe,” he grumbled.

“Okay, so,” Foggy continued carefully, “if I’m understanding this right, you’ve been canceling plans on your girl for a while now and she’d been upset about that. And then she comes and says she really needs to talk to you, and you what? Bail on her again? Quite aggressively, I’m gathering?”

“That’s–that’s not exactly right,” Matt said, shaking his head. “I didn’t bail on her. The city needed me, Fog.”

“Sounds like she needed you more, buddy,” Foggy countered.

Matt’s eyes snapped open, his sightless gaze landing somewhere near Foggy in a glare. “I gave her the option to stay and wait for me to come back. To tell me what she needed to then. She chose to leave. I haven’t heard from her since, so I’m guessing her important talk was about her wanting to tell me that she wanted to end things. That she couldn’t handle me being Daredevil after all.”

Foggy scoffed, shaking his head at Matt. He could hear the way his friend’s mouth had yet again curved into a frown. Something like guilt twisted in Matt’s stomach at the way that night had played out but he quickly buried it under his anger and hurt. 

“Why do you do that?” Foggy asked softly.

“ What ?” Matt snapped.

“This,” Foggy answered, waving a hand frantically at Matt. “That self-sabotaging thing you do. Things were good with you both. Great, actually. You were happy , Matt. And then you go diving into your hero bullshit and push people away. Making assumptions about her wanting to end things like you know that’s exactly what she wanted to talk to you about.”

“I do not self-sabotage,” Matt shot back. 

“Then why’d you push her away?” Foggy countered.

“Because the city needs me!” Matt exclaimed in exasperation, throwing his hands on his hips. “You know that and she knew that!”

A glaring silence settled in Matt’s apartment after his loud outburst. Matt’s tongue slipped out, wetting his lips repeatedly in his agitation. He heard the very faint sigh Foggy emitted, even with the way his headache had worsened.

“I think you’re reading things entirely wrong, man,” Foggy said, tone softer. “I don’t think she was trying to break up with you. I think you fucked up. Big time. And judging by the way you’re incredibly defensive and angry, you really, really love her.”

Matt’s nostrils flared, his eyes still glaring sharply in the direction of his friend. Though a part of himself was beginning to wonder if maybe, just maybe, Foggy was onto something. At least, about him fucking up. He was still pretty certain you’d wanted to break up with him. Because he had been canceling plans on you for weeks now. And you’d been getting hurt by him doing that pretty quickly, too. And he’d noticed, but he kept on putting off making things up to you because he’d been too focused on prioritizing the Russians. He’d hurt you, too. Long before you’d hurt him.

That guilt and shame stirred in Matt’s stomach again, threatening to overtake his own rage and heartache. But he couldn’t have been wrong about what you’d wanted to talk to him about, right? Because what else could it possibly have been besides an ultimatum for him to quit being Daredevil and to choose you instead?

“I think,” Foggy continued slowly, “that you need to go call her up. Put your tail between your legs and go beg for her forgiveness, Matt. Because you fucked up, admit it. I can see that realization dawning on your face right now, buddy. Talk to her. Apologize on your goddamn knees every day until she takes you back. Because we both know she was the best damn thing that ever happened to you.”

“She was,” Matt whispered, his gaze dropping down to the floor. “She always was.”

“Then go get her!” Foggy exclaimed, slamming his fist onto Matt’s countertop. “Fix things!”

He stepped around the kitchen counter, reaching out to slap Matt good-naturedly on the shoulder. Matt winced at the gesture when Foggy’s hand landed on a bruise and Foggy quickly muttered out an apology. 

Rubbing his arm, Matt let out a sigh. “How am I supposed to fix things, Fog?” he asked. “What if she really doesn’t love the part of me that is Daredevil like she thought she did? I can’t give this up. I’m not going to.”

“There’s no way that bullshit is the reason,” Foggy told him. “Not with all the different ways she’s been there for you and your vigilante ass this whole time, Matt. She loves Daredevil just as much as you. But as for fixing things?” Foggy shrugged, shaking his head. “I don’t know, man. I think your first step is to reach out to her, though. Try to get her to talk to you. Apologize and maybe find out what it was she needed to tell you. Because I’m guessing knowing what that was will tell you how royally you fucked up here.”

“Yeah,” Matt said with a sigh. “You’re probably right. Though I have a feeling she’s not going to want to talk to me.”

“You just keep trying until she does,” Foggy told him. “And if all else fails, maybe you can romantically show up on her fire escape and profess your love to her or something?”

Matt scoffed, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’m sure Daredevil showing up on her fire escape would go over real well with her right now.”

[mariaenchanted]

In this chapter, Foggy is my hero. I'm glad he came and put some sense on our dear Matty. Thank you thank you somuch Fog..

Seeking Forgiveness [Part Three]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3k

[Full summary and installment list for this series can be found here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+ contains angst, emotional hurt, delayed comfort, pregnant Reader

a/n: This one is entirely in Matt's POV and I'm curious to see how y'all react to his side of things! Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag List: @mattmurdocksstarlight @just-going-through-the-motions @paracosmic-murdock @yeonalie @auroraslibrary @1988-fiend @will-delete-this-later-probably@two-unbeatable-beaters @danzer8705 @ragamuffin285 @callmebrooklynbabes @spookyboogyuniverse @peachy-aisha @stevenknightmarc @nerdytreeflower @fucktthisworld @remuslupinwifee @kmc1989 @mywellspringoflife @thornbushrose @yarrystyleeza @shiorimakibawrites @thychuvaluswife @marvelcinematiquniverse @vallovesthedilfs @scoliobean @this--is--music

The ear-splitting and repeated honking of car horns on the street below harshly woke Matt, the sound shrill and piercing first thing in the morning. Seconds later the continuing noise drew forth a pounding headache that reverberated painfully in his head. Gritting his teeth in frustration, he rolled onto his side with a groan, his entire body loudly protesting the movement. He could feel a few new bruises he'd added to the others already scattered around his body, the new ones violently throbbing along his lower back and his left shoulder as consciousness abruptly returned to him.

Matt had been out well into the early morning hours running around Hell’s Kitchen tracking a man by the name of Petrov. He was the man that Matt had recently come to learn was the current leader of the Russian mafia now settled in his city. All of last night he had been trying to figure out where the new shipment of drugs would be coming into Hell's Kitchen at, but he'd yet again come home without the information he'd wanted. In a sour mood, he'd taken his anger out on a mugger while returning to his apartment, leaving the man more battered than he probably should have. 

And his sour mood quickly returned when he realized he was alone in his bed again, the cold from the lack of you often curled under the sheets with him exceptionally noticeable this morning–more than it had been for the past few weeks. Because you had left him, deciding not to stay and wait for him to return the other night. Leaving him like everyone else always did, unable to accept that he and the Devil were the same man. That he needed to let that other side of himself out to protect Hell’s Kitchen.

He'd heard the way you'd slammed the door on your way out of his apartment that night. He knew how hurt and upset you’d been. But when you’d started crying because he had been planning to go out again, he'd wanted to comfort you– tried to–but you'd rejected him so easily instead. And that hurt him deeply. Because Matt had always thought you were different, that you understood him. That you loved him for who he was–you'd certainly always assured him that you did. 

But it sure as hell hadn’t felt like that to him the other night. Not with how quick you were to reject him and walk out on him. You’d never tried to reach out to him all of Friday, either. Whatever important thing you’d wanted to discuss with him the other night must’ve been what he’d initially suspected it to be. That you wanted to end the relationship. Truthfully he hadn’t wanted to hear you say the words out loud which was partially why he didn’t want to give you a chance to speak.

Matt knew he'd been canceling plans on you repeatedly, though he admittedly hadn't realized just for how long he'd been doing it with the way his days had been blurring together from his lack of proper sleep. But it hadn't been intentional. He hadn't meant to hurt you and he'd felt terrible every single time he had. It always nagged at him while he was out, the memory of the way your heart stuttered each and every time you saw him in his suit never far from his mind as he tried to focus on his late night task. 

And it wasn't like he was out cheating on you or ditching you for his friends. What he was doing was the equivalent of being needed at a job–because that's how he saw what he did. As a responsibility he had to the people of Hell’s Kitchen. He'd honestly thought he'd be able to make it up to you once he'd gotten the situation with the Russians under control, but apparently he wasn't important enough for you to wait for him. And sure, he had to admit that he'd been awful to you the other night with the way he'd spoken to you, but the judgment and rejection from you had really upset him, as did the fear of hearing you tell him you were done with him. So he'd closed himself off to you, hoping to lessen how much you leaving him would hurt.

But Matt didn’t want to think about that this morning. His head ached enough from all the physical exertion last night and from not getting enough sleep. Those damn cars honking had ruined whatever sleeping in he hoped he’d have this Saturday morning, the sound of the city far too loud for him to lay back down and fall asleep now. 

Though if you’d been here–

With a growl Matt tore the sheets off of himself, tossing his legs over the side of his bed and shoving all thoughts of you to the side. He didn’t want to think about you right now. He wanted coffee, desperately hoping that would wake him up and help the throbbing of his head.

Shuffling out of his bedroom, half limping in pain as he walked, he navigated his way through his living room and into the kitchen. He went straight for his coffee maker, turning it on and preparing a pot of coffee. He knew he was going to need a few cups already. 

As the coffee brewed, Matt leant his back against the kitchen counter. His eyes closed as he ran a hand over his tired face, aware that his apartment seemed noticeably quieter and lonelier without you here. He’d been noticing that for weeks now, and every time he did he felt his heart sink a bit in his chest. Though this morning he almost felt sick at the emptiness here, as if someone had punched him right in the gut when he realized you were never coming back.

But you’d made that choice, he reminded himself. You had walked out on him. That thought only had Matt grinding his teeth together, anger coursing through him.

You weren’t the woman he’d thought you were after all. And that hurt.

The coffee machine began to sputter out his coffee, the noise loud and irritating to his ears this morning. Matt turned around, reaching a hand up to grab a mug from the open shelf on the wall. But a round of knocks coming from his apartment door rang out and he hesitated, his hand hovering just before the row of coffee cups. Brows furrowing together, his head shifted over his shoulder as he wondered how he’d been so absorbed in his thoughts that he hadn’t realized someone had approached his door. Though after a few seconds he soon realized that it was Foggy standing in the hallway and flipping through some paperwork that he’d brought with him.

Matt’s hand dropped to his side and he turned, a frown settling on his lips as he made his way through his kitchen and down his entryway hall. He unlocked the door, briskly swinging it open. It didn’t escape his notice how Foggy had startled in the hall at the abruptness.

“Fog,” Matt greeted flatly.

He could practically feel the way his friend’s eyes scanned over him, the sound of Foggy’s face shifting into a frown not lost on Matt. He imagined the bruises were quite visible, especially since he hadn’t managed to put a shirt on.

“You look like shit, Matt,” Foggy stated bluntly. “How long were you out last night?”

Matt turned, leaving the door open as he half-limped, half-shuffled his way back down the entryway hall. He listened as Foggy stepped inside, closing the door after himself before slipping out of his shoes. By the time Foggy had followed Matt into the kitchen, Matt had already managed to pour himself a cup of coffee, drinking a sip of it black.

“You want some coffee?” Matt asked him, avoiding the initial question.

“No, I’m good,” Foggy answered slowly, resting his arms on the kitchen counter and leaning over it. “I had some earlier before I left to come deliver the documents I told you I was bringing over this morning. Which I’m guessing…you forgot about, judging by the fact that it looks like you just rolled out of a dumpster that you used for a bed.”

Matt’s lips pursed together at Foggy as he drew his mug back up to his mouth, his eyes narrowing in obvious irritation. “Not a morning for jokes, Fog.”

“Is there ever with you lately?” Foggy grumbled. 

Matt drank down more of his coffee, the throbbing of his head not helped by the way Foggy was drumming his fingers along the countertop. He could hear the way his friend was looking around his apartment, probably noticing the way it had looked neater than usual. Which was due to the fact that neither of you had been in his apartment much for the past few weeks. The moment he heard Foggy’s mouth open, inhaling that small bit of breath, Matt knew what he was going to say. And it wasn’t a subject he wanted to discuss.

“Where’s your other half?” Foggy asked, glancing back towards the closed bedroom door, entirely missing the way Matt had winced at the question. “Thought she usually spent the weekends with you. Is she still asleep?”

Matt ground his teeth together, roughly exhaling a sharp breath. He knew he’d ask about you.

“No, she’s not here,” Matt replied coldly.

He heard the way Foggy had stiffened against the counter at his words and the tone of his voice. Slowly, Foggy’s head turned back towards Matt. Matt’s lips thinned out in irritation, not liking the minute shift in Foggy’s posture.

“So the documents–”

“What’d you do, Matt?” Foggy asked sharply, cutting him off.

Matt’s hand gripped his coffee mug tighter in his fist, surprising even himself when it didn’t break in his grip. His jaw clenched at the question and the accusation from his best friend.

“What makes you think this was my fault?” he growled back, voice low and dangerous.

Foggy was nodding swiftly as if he’d known something had happened. He didn’t seem remotely affected by Matt’s obvious anger, clearly prepared to discuss this more. That only annoyed Matt further.

“So you two broke up? Karen and I thought as much with the way you’d been mopey and snippy around the office yesterday,” Foggy said. “What happened? Because one minute you’re telling me she’s the one, that she’s going to move in with you soon, and the next–” he waved a hand around the apartment, “–you’re a damn bachelor again. So what’d you do? Because I know damn well she didn’t end things, not with the way she always looked at you like the sun rises and falls out of your ass, Matt.”

“ She left me ,” Matt snarled back. “Why the hell is that so difficult for you to understand, Fog? Why must you always assume that I did something? Clearly she wasn’t who I thought she was because she couldn’t accept me and what I do. Who I am .”

“Ahh,” Foggy said, pushing off the counter. “This is because of Daredevil. I figured as much. So tell me what happened then, because I’m about to slap you upside the head and tell you you’re wrong.”

Matt stalked across the kitchen in aggravation, slamming his mug down onto the counter that separated him from Foggy. The hot liquid splashed over his hand as Foggy briefly jumped at his outburst. The faint scent of fear soon hitting his nose was what had Matt’s eyes snapping shut, aware he was getting too riled up at this topic. That his anger was finally starting to make Foggy nervous.

Because it was about you and it hurt.

“She said she had something she needed to tell me,” Matt replied through clenched teeth, trying to rein in his frustration and heartache. “But I needed to go out as Daredevil. I was planning to interrupt a meeting with the Russians. The ones I’d been telling you about.” He exhaled a sharp breath, his left hand clamping onto the kitchen counter as he continued, hoping to ground himself and control his rage. “She was upset that I was going out again when we’d had plans. Said she really needed to talk to me. So I told her she could tell me afterwards when I came back and she got upset.”

There was a brief silence following his explanation, Matt hearing the way Foggy’s head had shifted to the side.

“And you were…growly Devil when you were talking with her weren’t you?” Foggy asked, gesturing a hand at Matt. “Like you are now?”

Matt grunted, shame burning through him as his eyes once again fell shut. Yes. 

“Maybe,” he grumbled.

“Okay, so,” Foggy continued carefully, “if I’m understanding this right, you’ve been canceling plans on your girl for a while now and she’d been upset about that. And then she comes and says she really needs to talk to you, and you what? Bail on her again? Quite aggressively, I’m gathering?”

“That’s–that’s not exactly right,” Matt said, shaking his head. “I didn’t bail on her. The city needed me, Fog.”

“Sounds like she needed you more, buddy,” Foggy countered.

Matt’s eyes snapped open, his sightless gaze landing somewhere near Foggy in a glare. “I gave her the option to stay and wait for me to come back. To tell me what she needed to then. She chose to leave. I haven’t heard from her since, so I’m guessing her important talk was about her wanting to tell me that she wanted to end things. That she couldn’t handle me being Daredevil after all.”

Foggy scoffed, shaking his head at Matt. He could hear the way his friend’s mouth had yet again curved into a frown. Something like guilt twisted in Matt’s stomach at the way that night had played out but he quickly buried it under his anger and hurt. 

“Why do you do that?” Foggy asked softly.

“ What ?” Matt snapped.

“This,” Foggy answered, waving a hand frantically at Matt. “That self-sabotaging thing you do. Things were good with you both. Great, actually. You were happy , Matt. And then you go diving into your hero bullshit and push people away. Making assumptions about her wanting to end things like you know that’s exactly what she wanted to talk to you about.”

“I do not self-sabotage,” Matt shot back. 

“Then why’d you push her away?” Foggy countered.

“Because the city needs me!” Matt exclaimed in exasperation, throwing his hands on his hips. “You know that and she knew that!”

A glaring silence settled in Matt’s apartment after his loud outburst. Matt’s tongue slipped out, wetting his lips repeatedly in his agitation. He heard the very faint sigh Foggy emitted, even with the way his headache had worsened.

“I think you’re reading things entirely wrong, man,” Foggy said, tone softer. “I don’t think she was trying to break up with you. I think you fucked up. Big time. And judging by the way you’re incredibly defensive and angry, you really, really love her.”

Matt’s nostrils flared, his eyes still glaring sharply in the direction of his friend. Though a part of himself was beginning to wonder if maybe, just maybe, Foggy was onto something. At least, about him fucking up. He was still pretty certain you’d wanted to break up with him. Because he had been canceling plans on you for weeks now. And you’d been getting hurt by him doing that pretty quickly, too. And he’d noticed, but he kept on putting off making things up to you because he’d been too focused on prioritizing the Russians. He’d hurt you, too. Long before you’d hurt him.

That guilt and shame stirred in Matt’s stomach again, threatening to overtake his own rage and heartache. But he couldn’t have been wrong about what you’d wanted to talk to him about, right? Because what else could it possibly have been besides an ultimatum for him to quit being Daredevil and to choose you instead?

“I think,” Foggy continued slowly, “that you need to go call her up. Put your tail between your legs and go beg for her forgiveness, Matt. Because you fucked up, admit it. I can see that realization dawning on your face right now, buddy. Talk to her. Apologize on your goddamn knees every day until she takes you back. Because we both know she was the best damn thing that ever happened to you.”

“She was,” Matt whispered, his gaze dropping down to the floor. “She always was.”

“Then go get her!” Foggy exclaimed, slamming his fist onto Matt’s countertop. “Fix things!”

He stepped around the kitchen counter, reaching out to slap Matt good-naturedly on the shoulder. Matt winced at the gesture when Foggy’s hand landed on a bruise and Foggy quickly muttered out an apology. 

Rubbing his arm, Matt let out a sigh. “How am I supposed to fix things, Fog?” he asked. “What if she really doesn’t love the part of me that is Daredevil like she thought she did? I can’t give this up. I’m not going to.”

“There’s no way that bullshit is the reason,” Foggy told him. “Not with all the different ways she’s been there for you and your vigilante ass this whole time, Matt. She loves Daredevil just as much as you. But as for fixing things?” Foggy shrugged, shaking his head. “I don’t know, man. I think your first step is to reach out to her, though. Try to get her to talk to you. Apologize and maybe find out what it was she needed to tell you. Because I’m guessing knowing what that was will tell you how royally you fucked up here.”

“Yeah,” Matt said with a sigh. “You’re probably right. Though I have a feeling she’s not going to want to talk to me.”

“You just keep trying until she does,” Foggy told him. “And if all else fails, maybe you can romantically show up on her fire escape and profess your love to her or something?”

Matt scoffed, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’m sure Daredevil showing up on her fire escape would go over real well with her right now.”

[mariaenchanted]

All i have to say is...

It's been awhile since I've written one of these dialogues, but here y'all go. As usual, it's below the cut, friends! (And I almost lost it after I had it all written so I am thanking whatever in the universe helped me save it 🙌🏻).

Matt, irritated: Was this really necessary, guys?

Frank, roughly clapping Matt on the shoulder: Yeah. It was. You've been hoggin' all Bella's attention for weeks now, Red. It got old hearin' about you all the time real fast.

Mikey: And she did say she wanted some help to stop thinkin' 'bout ya. Now she can.

Matt, straining against the restraints: But did you need to tie me to a chair? You don't think this is too far?

Frank, grinning: I kinda like it. Would be better if I taped your damn mouth shut, though.

Mikey, glancing at Frank: Ya don't think tyin' him to a chair is goin' to give her more ideas 'bout him though, do ya? 'Cause she has been thinkin' 'bout, well, usin' rope in a smut fic lately.

Frank, looking unsure: No it--it's just gonna keep him from tryin' to convince her to watch Daredevil again. And to stop writing so much for him. That's all.

Matt, sighing: Look, you guys are missing the bigger picture here.

Mikey, focusing back on Matt: Which is...?

Matt: If she's focused on me, she won't be writing for all those other guys. That weird vampire and that grumpy zombie killer. And that other Irishman who keeps shooting us cocky smirks over there because he knows she's thinking about him.

Frank, eyes narrowing at Matt: Yeah, but then she only writes for you. So nice try, Red, but it ain't happenin'.

Mikey, gesturing to Frank: I'm with him on this. She's written enough for your arse.

Frank, glancing at the other men sitting on the couch behind them with a disturbed expression: Though it is gettin' real goddamn weird how most of you look the damn same.

Daryl, glaring at Frank: Don't look at me like that. I look nothin' like the rest of these assholes. And I'd rather not be stuck here with any of y'all dumbasses. Rather fight a herd of walkers than listen to you three always fightin' like some weird married couple.

Matt, frowning: We do not.

Owen, nodding: You definitely do.

Henry: It's quite exhausting to listen to, actually.

Frank, angry: Well no one asked for any of your opinions!

Mikey, pinching the bridge of his nose: For the love o' God don't lump me in with these two.

[mariaenchanted]

Tying? Restraints? Are you teasing about something SEXY??!!

It's been awhile since I've written one of these dialogues, but here y'all go. As usual, it's below the cut, friends! (And I almost lost it after I had it all written so I am thanking whatever in the universe helped me save it 🙌🏻).

Matt, irritated: Was this really necessary, guys?

Frank, roughly clapping Matt on the shoulder: Yeah. It was. You've been hoggin' all Bella's attention for weeks now, Red. It got old hearin' about you all the time real fast.

Mikey: And she did say she wanted some help to stop thinkin' 'bout ya. Now she can.

Matt, straining against the restraints: But did you need to tie me to a chair? You don't think this is too far?

Frank, grinning: I kinda like it. Would be better if I taped your damn mouth shut, though.

Mikey, glancing at Frank: Ya don't think tyin' him to a chair is goin' to give her more ideas 'bout him though, do ya? 'Cause she has been thinkin' 'bout, well, usin' rope in a smut fic lately.

Frank, looking unsure: No it--it's just gonna keep him from tryin' to convince her to watch Daredevil again. And to stop writing so much for him. That's all.

Matt, sighing: Look, you guys are missing the bigger picture here.

Mikey, focusing back on Matt: Which is...?

Matt: If she's focused on me, she won't be writing for all those other guys. That weird vampire and that grumpy zombie killer. And that other Irishman who keeps shooting us cocky smirks over there because he knows she's thinking about him.

Frank, eyes narrowing at Matt: Yeah, but then she only writes for you. So nice try, Red, but it ain't happenin'.

Mikey, gesturing to Frank: I'm with him on this. She's written enough for your arse.

Frank, glancing at the other men sitting on the couch behind them with a disturbed expression: Though it is gettin' real goddamn weird how most of you look the damn same.

Daryl, glaring at Frank: Don't look at me like that. I look nothin' like the rest of these assholes. And I'd rather not be stuck here with any of y'all dumbasses. Rather fight a herd of walkers than listen to you three always fightin' like some weird married couple.

Matt, frowning: We do not.

Owen, nodding: You definitely do.

Henry: It's quite exhausting to listen to, actually.

Frank, angry: Well no one asked for any of your opinions!

Mikey, pinching the bridge of his nose: For the love o' God don't lump me in with these two.

[mariaenchanted]

I know that fftd will always be my number one but this series right here will also make your heart flutter. This is the first series i read on your blog @bellaxgiornata and the reason I found the fftd series. I don't know how your creativity works but keep on doing what you do, keep making this amazing work.

Keep making me fall in love with Matt Murdock.

(Just want to reblog cause this series deserves more love)

Chapter List for You've Been Gone So Long, Baby 《Completed Series》

Summary: Matt had never let anyone so deep into his life until you. But when everything was going so perfectly, when he didn't think he could possibly be happier, he loses everything he loves in a single second–and he's absolutely powerless to fix it. [Reminder this is a heavy angst series where comfort does not come until chapters six and seven, but there is a happy ending.]

Chapter List

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven