She was singing, softly, and the sound was simultaneously comforting and alien. She seemed to notice that Matt was vaguely awake.
"Don't be afraid, Matthew." Matt reached up, searching for her in the darkness. His hand felt metal, cool and hard. He didn't know how, but he
knew it was a cross.
"Go to sleep, my son." He nodded, the drugs still making him drowsy, and again drifted to sleep.
Matt sighed and cocked his head to the side, listening in to the conversation taking place two rooms away. Matt had discovered that his senses had seemingly been heightened by his accident, and after a few days, he'd been able to refine his sense of hearing enough to listen to distinct conversations.
"Get real, Mr. Murdock. The only witness to say that your boy didn't jump out in front of our truck is a 15 year old who has the rap sheet of a man twice his age. In fact, earlier that afternoon, the boy committed assault and battery with a baseball."
"My son is blind, and God only knows what else because you didn't secure yer payload and you can't do a thing about it?!"
"Can't and won't. Our driver says the boy jumped out in front of him, the Benjamin boy says otherwise. Who do you think I'm gonna go with?"
He heard his father huff angrily and storm out of the room. He heard the thunder of Jack Murdock's footfalls grow ever closer. He turned as his father walked into the room.
"Hello, Matt."
"Hi Pops."
"Matt, the doctors said that you're blind... and that the condition is permanent. I'm so sorry, Matt."
"What about the blind man I saved?"
Matt could almost feel his father's sigh. "No one seems to have seen him but you and that Benjamin kid. You boys sure he was even real?"
"Dad, have you ever known me to make things up?"
"No.. Matt, I promise you, I'm going to do whatever I have to do to make it up to you."
"And I promise Dad... I'm gonna be someone... I'm going to make you proud of me."
Matt sat in the gym while his father worked out and ran his fingers over the braille, his hyper-sensitive finger-tips easily picking up the raised impressions. Matt's problem was that he was having difficulty remembering what series of bumps meant what letter. In frustration, he threw his book, and sighed as he realized that the other fighters in the gym would be far too busy to retrieve the book. He stood, and for an instant, Matt thought he could sense the hazy outlines of everything around him.
Everything. Not just the usual field of vision that his eyes could see, but things behind him, around him, almost like a radar. He paused and tried to focus, much as he had learned to do with his hearing. The best he could do was the hazy sensations.
I'm just going to have to get used to the fact that I'm handicapped.Matt heard a thud at his feet, and could feel that someone was standing in front of him.
"You're blind, not helpless." The voice was gruff, and sounded to Matt's young ears as though it was wind escaping from a pair of rocks rather than a human's voice.
"But, I can't see, Mister..."
"My name is Stick. And just because you can't see doesn't make you weak. Meet me here tonight, and I will show you."
"But..."
"Tonight, Murdock."
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