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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
Disclaimer: Don’t own them.
A/N: I’m using HTML Coding Formats. [dd] is the beginning of a DareDevil/Matt Murdock POV. [/dd] is the end of one. In this same style: [e][/e] for Ethan; [j][/j] for Jarod; [mp][/mp] for Miss Parker. Please enjoy! Ari, please don’t kill me. I’m far too young to die. That goes for you, J-Rod!
Chapter One: Who I Am (Leave Me Alone)
By RRP
[dd]
I am the one they call, ‘the blind lawyer’. I never leave a case unturned, and my sense of justice impresses even those I don’t wish to impress. Many times, I’ve been heard to threaten those who’ve walked away- with nothing more than, “You’ll wish you had gotten your justice here”. I instill fear, and I revel in that fact.
I wish I could tell you I’ve always been the innocent one, but I can’t. Not without lying. For all my sense of justice, for all my talk of right, I have killed. I have murdered, and I know that I was wrong. By my own misguided vengeance, others have fallen. And fallen hard.
By day, I go by Matt Murdock. By night? I’m the one they call DareDevil. The guardian devil of Hell’s Kitchen- or at least, I usually am. I’ve run into a couple big shots here and there, and I think I may have been straightened out once or twice. I’m supposed to protect my city, not my favorite part of it.
The first day I met the first two, I was pretty upset with them at first (a lot of firsts, eh?). Here, I’ve been taking care of my city, my area of the city, for four years. Four long years. And then these two show up, taking me down like it’s a simple workout for them. I’ve fought what I thought was the best- and barely survived. These two make me look like playground stuff.
So, I was on the ground, breathing hard, and the two of them were just standing there looking at me. One offered his hand, and I refused the help. I was up, on my own, and they started talking. One of them, he said he’s from Metropolis, and I’ve heard of him. Superman he calls himself. The other? Gothamite. All the way. Said he’s the Batman. They’ve heard of my, let me say, unusual methods, and they wanted me to cut the crap and start dealing fair. I was sorely tempted to ask them what fair means, and the Batman corrected Superman.
Not fair, he explained- just sane. Human. Let the police, the system, do them justice. It’s just our job to make sure the little guys don’t get hurt. We can’t snap ourselves, stoop to their level. They were treating me like a rookie, and I wasn’t digging it. So I told them to stop- I don’t need advice. And then I asked how long they’ve been pulling the vigilante gig. I couldn’t wait for one of them to tell me about a year or two, so I could straighten them out.
“Nine years.” Said Superman. Batman added his score. It was eleven. I start to think that maybe I am a bit of a rookie, to them anyway. But I agreed on some certain terms to stop killing- I already had, really. I wasn’t getting kicks out of it. They left, I’ve only seen them once or twice since.
But to the beginning- do you have any idea how frightening it is to wake up and not be able to see? At all? It’s pretty damn scary. Even for someone like me.
[/dd][e]
The sound was what woke me up- the overpowering, over heightened sense of sound. I woke up all right, and I woke up screaming. For all the stuff I’ve seen and done, I’d never been so freaked out in my life. Even Raines didn’t scare me like that first moment did. Every thing was pulsating, reverberating, and I couldn’t make it stop. And the worst part was, was I couldn’t see a thing. A blue haze seemed to be covering everything, only appearing with the pulse of sound, then disappearing into blackness. Something was on my eyes, and I couldn’t get it off.
I remember clawing frantically at my eyes, and finding white gauze tape there. I gave up trying to get it off, and just screamed. I wasn’t even aware that I was flailing my arms until I felt someone grab them. The sound, the awful sound, wouldn’t stop. I heard, more than heard, I felt, a familiar voice. I knew the voice as Jarod, but my body refused to listen to me. I couldn’t stop panicking. My mind was confused beyond belief, questions pouring through my head, dripping off my thoughts like water on oil. The sound was overwhelming, and the fact that I couldn’t see even worse.
I was sobbing like a baby, the gauze tape soaking up the unbidden tears, and I finally stopped jerking around to crawl into a ball. I wanted to get away, I needed to get away. I wanted it all to be a dream. The fear was so real and desperate that there were seconds when I couldn’t breathe. As soon as I stopped struggling, I felt myself be pulled into warm, strong arms. Jarod. My big brother.
I clung to him shamelessly, unable to even hold a coherent thought about any subject except my sight for more than two seconds. I swear he was crying with me. I could hear him crying, I could hear his heart beat. I could hear his tears hitting the hard floor and bouncing.
“I can’t see.” I told him between a sob. I barely managed to speak at all.
“I know, I know.” He replied, rocking me back and forth. He knew. He knew and that’s when it hit me so hard it made me want to scream again. I hit him, and propelled myself across the room, using my feet and his chest for leverage. I heard the machines squeal and I heard rather than felt the IV needle snap in my arm. I could hear everything. I heard Jarod slam against the wall with a pained gasp, as I made contact with the opposite wall myself.
I sank into the corner, sobbing again. The blue pulse allowed me to grasp the outlined image of some items, but not many. My heart was racing, and the blood from the ripped IV needle was all over my hands and the floor. I could feel it, the sticky substance invading my sense of touch and smell. It reeked of life, dark staining life. And I hated it. I wanted it to be dead. I wanted to be dead. I couldn’t think of more than one short phrase, and it raced through my head with such speed I thought my skull would crack with it’s incessant pounding.
I’m blind, good god, I’m blind...
[/e][j]
The wiring had caught fire at the worst possible time, and committed a crime I could never forgive it for. One might ask how you could blame a fire, and my answer would be that I have no idea. No idea at all. But I do know that I blame it, and never again will I enjoy the warmth of a fireplace with a crackling fire, or a bonfire with marshmallows. Not after what it did to my little brother. Our little brother.
Miss Parker’s been pacing ever since they rushed him into the hospital on a gurney stained with blood. In the waiting room, in the hotel room, everywhere. She yelled so much at her father on the phone, that I think he was just shocked enough to let me stay in peace. But she paces ever on, thankfully I’ve managed to keep her away from alcohol and cigarettes.
And I pace with her. We both feel helpless, and it’s a feeling I know we both hate. The doctors said there was nothing left for us to do but wait for him to wake up. And now that he has, I almost wish he had stayed asleep. He’s asleep again now, faced with the daunting prospect of learning to live- blind.
He’s blind. My baby brother, Ethan, who I promised to his face that I would protect, is blind. Irreversibly and unmistakably blind. I can do nothing about it, and neither can she. She cares about him, I can tell. That little glint in her eye when she talks about him. I’ve seen it, and so has Sydney. I’ve asked him.
Lyle’s been here to see him, and he did nothing more than glare at me and look at Ethan’s sleeping form with an emotion I didn’t imagine he possessed- pity. Then he left, and even Miss Parker hasn’t heard anything from him since. Miss Parker stays close to the hospital, but refuses to go into Ethan’s room. It’s as if she’s scared of what she’ll find.
Ethan is unscarred, the doctors say. Unscarred by flame- there is no burn anywhere on his body. Some cuts, but those will heal. I laugh mournfully at their description of him. Unscarred? He’s blind, for heavensake. If that’s not scarred, I don’t know what is. I can think of at least a dozen more adjectives for it off the top of my head, and I’m not even the real victim. Ethan is.
I was going to sim it, waking up and not being able to see, but Miss Parker stopped me. I’m almost glad she did, now that I’ve seen Ethan’s reaction. I might have hurt her while trying to get back. How am I going to live with this? How is he going to live with it? Will he let me help him? The suspense is killing me, but it’s like a mystery I don’t want to solve. I’m afraid I won’t be able to live with the outcome. I don’t know if any of us will. For once, it’s not a pretend. And everything’s not going to be okay.
[/j][mp]
It all happened so fast, so breathtakingly fast that I’m forever stuck replaying those fateful second long clips over in my mind. Jumbled together, until I’m not sure the order is even correct. The explosion, the blast, watching the warehouse blow sky high. Then, his body. Finding my little brother’s tattered, limp form on the other side of the wreckage. The ambulance and the hospital, the doctors telling Jarod and I that Ethan’s never going to see again.
He’s blind. My brother is blind. It’s my fault, somehow, somehow it’s always my fault. Jarod says it’s not, but it is. Somehow it is. It will be. If I can’t find a way, Ethan will. People’s minds are sharpest when they’re hurt- I know this from experience.
I’m lost to the void, lost in my thoughts, fearful of what could happen next. I’m sure I’ve already worn a hole in the hotel carpet with my pacing, but I can’t seem to stop. The Ice Queen Parker remains on the outside, telling everyone she’s alright, she’ll live, and that everything’s okay. Only Jarod has seen past my facade so far. Only Jarod.
Ethan would be next, if he was awake. If he could see. But Ethan’s the reason I’m here, his condition the reason I’m allowing myself to lean on Jarod again. Jarod. Ethan’s his brother as well, and I know he’s got to be blaming himself just as much as I’m blaming me. I just can’t stop.
There has to be some way for it to be my fault, some way. I’d rather this be my fault than some freak accident. If it was my fault, then the Centre would be some way connected, opposed to the entire thing, Ethan’s blindness, being some chance happening. The problem with this being a freak accident is that it would mean that not only was my little brother a victim- he was a statistic.
With no one to blame, the pain must blame itself. If Ethan can’t blame me, he’ll blame himself and it’ll tear him apart. I can’t stand to watch my little brother lose himself as well as his sight. I couldn’t do it. It would kill me, as well as him. So I can’t just stand by.
[/mp]
A/N: I’m using HTML Coding Formats. [dd] is the beginning of a DareDevil/Matt Murdock POV. [/dd] is the end of one. In this same style: [e][/e] for Ethan; [j][/j] for Jarod; [mp][/mp] for Miss Parker. Please enjoy! Ari, please don’t kill me. I’m far too young to die. That goes for you, J-Rod!
By RRP
[dd]
I am the one they call, ‘the blind lawyer’. I never leave a case unturned, and my sense of justice impresses even those I don’t wish to impress. Many times, I’ve been heard to threaten those who’ve walked away- with nothing more than, “You’ll wish you had gotten your justice here”. I instill fear, and I revel in that fact.
I wish I could tell you I’ve always been the innocent one, but I can’t. Not without lying. For all my sense of justice, for all my talk of right, I have killed. I have murdered, and I know that I was wrong. By my own misguided vengeance, others have fallen. And fallen hard.
By day, I go by Matt Murdock. By night? I’m the one they call DareDevil. The guardian devil of Hell’s Kitchen- or at least, I usually am. I’ve run into a couple big shots here and there, and I think I may have been straightened out once or twice. I’m supposed to protect my city, not my favorite part of it.
The first day I met the first two, I was pretty upset with them at first (a lot of firsts, eh?). Here, I’ve been taking care of my city, my area of the city, for four years. Four long years. And then these two show up, taking me down like it’s a simple workout for them. I’ve fought what I thought was the best- and barely survived. These two make me look like playground stuff.
So, I was on the ground, breathing hard, and the two of them were just standing there looking at me. One offered his hand, and I refused the help. I was up, on my own, and they started talking. One of them, he said he’s from Metropolis, and I’ve heard of him. Superman he calls himself. The other? Gothamite. All the way. Said he’s the Batman. They’ve heard of my, let me say, unusual methods, and they wanted me to cut the crap and start dealing fair. I was sorely tempted to ask them what fair means, and the Batman corrected Superman.
Not fair, he explained- just sane. Human. Let the police, the system, do them justice. It’s just our job to make sure the little guys don’t get hurt. We can’t snap ourselves, stoop to their level. They were treating me like a rookie, and I wasn’t digging it. So I told them to stop- I don’t need advice. And then I asked how long they’ve been pulling the vigilante gig. I couldn’t wait for one of them to tell me about a year or two, so I could straighten them out.
“Nine years.” Said Superman. Batman added his score. It was eleven. I start to think that maybe I am a bit of a rookie, to them anyway. But I agreed on some certain terms to stop killing- I already had, really. I wasn’t getting kicks out of it. They left, I’ve only seen them once or twice since.
But to the beginning- do you have any idea how frightening it is to wake up and not be able to see? At all? It’s pretty damn scary. Even for someone like me.
[/dd][e]
The sound was what woke me up- the overpowering, over heightened sense of sound. I woke up all right, and I woke up screaming. For all the stuff I’ve seen and done, I’d never been so freaked out in my life. Even Raines didn’t scare me like that first moment did. Every thing was pulsating, reverberating, and I couldn’t make it stop. And the worst part was, was I couldn’t see a thing. A blue haze seemed to be covering everything, only appearing with the pulse of sound, then disappearing into blackness. Something was on my eyes, and I couldn’t get it off.
I remember clawing frantically at my eyes, and finding white gauze tape there. I gave up trying to get it off, and just screamed. I wasn’t even aware that I was flailing my arms until I felt someone grab them. The sound, the awful sound, wouldn’t stop. I heard, more than heard, I felt, a familiar voice. I knew the voice as Jarod, but my body refused to listen to me. I couldn’t stop panicking. My mind was confused beyond belief, questions pouring through my head, dripping off my thoughts like water on oil. The sound was overwhelming, and the fact that I couldn’t see even worse.
I was sobbing like a baby, the gauze tape soaking up the unbidden tears, and I finally stopped jerking around to crawl into a ball. I wanted to get away, I needed to get away. I wanted it all to be a dream. The fear was so real and desperate that there were seconds when I couldn’t breathe. As soon as I stopped struggling, I felt myself be pulled into warm, strong arms. Jarod. My big brother.
I clung to him shamelessly, unable to even hold a coherent thought about any subject except my sight for more than two seconds. I swear he was crying with me. I could hear him crying, I could hear his heart beat. I could hear his tears hitting the hard floor and bouncing.
“I can’t see.” I told him between a sob. I barely managed to speak at all.
“I know, I know.” He replied, rocking me back and forth. He knew. He knew and that’s when it hit me so hard it made me want to scream again. I hit him, and propelled myself across the room, using my feet and his chest for leverage. I heard the machines squeal and I heard rather than felt the IV needle snap in my arm. I could hear everything. I heard Jarod slam against the wall with a pained gasp, as I made contact with the opposite wall myself.
I sank into the corner, sobbing again. The blue pulse allowed me to grasp the outlined image of some items, but not many. My heart was racing, and the blood from the ripped IV needle was all over my hands and the floor. I could feel it, the sticky substance invading my sense of touch and smell. It reeked of life, dark staining life. And I hated it. I wanted it to be dead. I wanted to be dead. I couldn’t think of more than one short phrase, and it raced through my head with such speed I thought my skull would crack with it’s incessant pounding.
I’m blind, good god, I’m blind...
[/e][j]
The wiring had caught fire at the worst possible time, and committed a crime I could never forgive it for. One might ask how you could blame a fire, and my answer would be that I have no idea. No idea at all. But I do know that I blame it, and never again will I enjoy the warmth of a fireplace with a crackling fire, or a bonfire with marshmallows. Not after what it did to my little brother. Our little brother.
Miss Parker’s been pacing ever since they rushed him into the hospital on a gurney stained with blood. In the waiting room, in the hotel room, everywhere. She yelled so much at her father on the phone, that I think he was just shocked enough to let me stay in peace. But she paces ever on, thankfully I’ve managed to keep her away from alcohol and cigarettes.
And I pace with her. We both feel helpless, and it’s a feeling I know we both hate. The doctors said there was nothing left for us to do but wait for him to wake up. And now that he has, I almost wish he had stayed asleep. He’s asleep again now, faced with the daunting prospect of learning to live- blind.
He’s blind. My baby brother, Ethan, who I promised to his face that I would protect, is blind. Irreversibly and unmistakably blind. I can do nothing about it, and neither can she. She cares about him, I can tell. That little glint in her eye when she talks about him. I’ve seen it, and so has Sydney. I’ve asked him.
Lyle’s been here to see him, and he did nothing more than glare at me and look at Ethan’s sleeping form with an emotion I didn’t imagine he possessed- pity. Then he left, and even Miss Parker hasn’t heard anything from him since. Miss Parker stays close to the hospital, but refuses to go into Ethan’s room. It’s as if she’s scared of what she’ll find.
Ethan is unscarred, the doctors say. Unscarred by flame- there is no burn anywhere on his body. Some cuts, but those will heal. I laugh mournfully at their description of him. Unscarred? He’s blind, for heavensake. If that’s not scarred, I don’t know what is. I can think of at least a dozen more adjectives for it off the top of my head, and I’m not even the real victim. Ethan is.
I was going to sim it, waking up and not being able to see, but Miss Parker stopped me. I’m almost glad she did, now that I’ve seen Ethan’s reaction. I might have hurt her while trying to get back. How am I going to live with this? How is he going to live with it? Will he let me help him? The suspense is killing me, but it’s like a mystery I don’t want to solve. I’m afraid I won’t be able to live with the outcome. I don’t know if any of us will. For once, it’s not a pretend. And everything’s not going to be okay.
[/j][mp]
It all happened so fast, so breathtakingly fast that I’m forever stuck replaying those fateful second long clips over in my mind. Jumbled together, until I’m not sure the order is even correct. The explosion, the blast, watching the warehouse blow sky high. Then, his body. Finding my little brother’s tattered, limp form on the other side of the wreckage. The ambulance and the hospital, the doctors telling Jarod and I that Ethan’s never going to see again.
He’s blind. My brother is blind. It’s my fault, somehow, somehow it’s always my fault. Jarod says it’s not, but it is. Somehow it is. It will be. If I can’t find a way, Ethan will. People’s minds are sharpest when they’re hurt- I know this from experience.
I’m lost to the void, lost in my thoughts, fearful of what could happen next. I’m sure I’ve already worn a hole in the hotel carpet with my pacing, but I can’t seem to stop. The Ice Queen Parker remains on the outside, telling everyone she’s alright, she’ll live, and that everything’s okay. Only Jarod has seen past my facade so far. Only Jarod.
Ethan would be next, if he was awake. If he could see. But Ethan’s the reason I’m here, his condition the reason I’m allowing myself to lean on Jarod again. Jarod. Ethan’s his brother as well, and I know he’s got to be blaming himself just as much as I’m blaming me. I just can’t stop.
There has to be some way for it to be my fault, some way. I’d rather this be my fault than some freak accident. If it was my fault, then the Centre would be some way connected, opposed to the entire thing, Ethan’s blindness, being some chance happening. The problem with this being a freak accident is that it would mean that not only was my little brother a victim- he was a statistic.
With no one to blame, the pain must blame itself. If Ethan can’t blame me, he’ll blame himself and it’ll tear him apart. I can’t stand to watch my little brother lose himself as well as his sight. I couldn’t do it. It would kill me, as well as him. So I can’t just stand by.
[/mp]
