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Defenders has me dying.

Chapter 54

The water is warm, a striking opposite to my cold skin, it makes me feel calmer— not as tense.

I close my eyes, letting the droplets run over the fading bruises that were (strangled) kissed into my skin. As relaxing as it might feel, I still have the familiar uneasy flipping of my stomach because of the blind vigilante just a room away from me.

The last of the dark water runs down the drain, officially meaning that the last of the strangers' blood has been washed away from my skin. I turn the water off, listening as the room fills with silence, sending yet another wave of uneasiness over me.

My head begins to pound as I step out and grab a folded towel from the small linen closet.

What does he expect by keeping me here like a caged tiger? My safety from Savior? No. Nothing can possibly keep her from getting at me. If she wants to kill me, she can try all she wants, but we've played this game of cat and mouse before— we each end up getting our necks snapped in a trap it seems.

Matthew can't stop her from getting what she wants, but I can. I've done it once before and I'll do it again.

After I finish drying off, I put on my non blood stained clothing (so just my bra and underwear) and just as he said, when I open the door he laid out a pair of sweats and a t-shirt.

I slip on the pants, tightening them as much as I could but they still end up hanging loosely around my waist. The t-shirt on the other hand, large or not, is just strange. I cock my eyebrow at the print across it, 'Stay Weird' except it's upside down. Did he buy this, or did he make the mistake of trusting someone else to buy his clothes for him? Either way... the fashion taste isn't great. Setting the t-shirt back down I grab my bag and walk back out into the main room where the smell of freshly brewed coffee fills the air.

"Savior," Matt says stiffly, grabbing a cup from the cabinet, "Tell me about Savior." His body language doesn't express any of the anger it once had, to my own surprise.

I clench my fists, taking careful steps towards the opposite side of the counter, "She's a bitch–"

"What did she do to you?" He asks, turning around with a cup of coffee in hand. I feel my heart physically drop, skip a beat, and then speed up. I keep my outward expression cold, but I can tell he sensed my hesitation.

I stare blankly at his dark glasses, my mind acting like he just told me to recite the alphabet in the original Greek pronunciation. He sets the mug down in front of me, waiting for my response, but instead I just sigh softly and run a hand through my damp hair. Dropping the tough guy act for now.

"Savior... she knows how to ruin you," I whisper, picking the warm cup up and holding it just to my lips, "She knows how to break you."

"What happened?" He presses and I wrinkle my nose in disgust.

"She supplied Fabian with everything horrible— even with the knowledge that he had a young daughter." I say, my voice just barely wavering.

"She supplied dealers, not directly your father." He corrects making me laugh bitterly.

"No... she made sure my life was a living hell," He furrows his eyebrows, thoroughly confused why a drug lord would bother so much with an eleven year old at the time. I shake my head, sipping a bit more coffee before going on to explain, "I was an issue to her, stopping some of her best dealers in attempts to... fix him. She couldn't stop me directly at the time because I stayed mostly hidden, so she used Fabian against me."

Blurry Vision ∷ Daredevil; Matthew MurdockWhere stories live. Discover now