Scales of Justice

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Mir
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Scales of Justice

Post by Mir »

Declan Harper sat quietly in the pew. St. Vincent Ferrer Church was relatively empty. Too early in the morning yet for the eight am Mass, but early enough for Harper. He stared up at the large crucifixion scene portrayed in wood perched above the altar. He wasn’t sure what to think or what to feel. He felt powerless. He closed his eyes, wanting, hoping, maybe praying that it would block everything out.

It didn’t.

The darkness couldn’t do that for him.

“Thought I’d find you here.”

He opened his eyes and turned in the pew to see a man walking towards him. Dressed in a blue suit, the man wore red sunglasses. Which wouldn’t be that big of a deal, but they were in a church. However, the man carried a red cane with him, and he was using it to feel along the way.

“Matt.” Declan said.

The lawyer had insisted that the boy call him Matt instead of Mr. Murdock as his father had told him to. Declan listened to his father when they were together, but at times like this, the proper behavior went out the window.

“Foggy said you were a little nervous last night.”

“I don’t know what to do.” Declan said.

Matt stopped outside of the pew, still in the center aisle of the Catholic church.

Declan still wasn’t one hundred percent sure how the blind lawyer from Hell’s Kitchen was able to navigate so well or how he seemed to know where things were.

Maybe the darkness did that for him.

One thing was for sure, was that he could though.

“Your father is going to be fine.”

“You don’t know that.” The ten year old boy said. “You said we had a strong case, but the prosecutor guy, the DA, he’s really good.”

“He is.” Matt readily agreed. “We’ve presented our evidence and the prosecutor has presented his. What Sanborn says at this point isn’t that important.”

“But what you say is?” Declan challenged.

“No, what’s important is what the jury has heard and what they’ve taken away.” Matt said. He gestured at the pew. “May I join you?” He asked and Declan nodded, moving down in the pew so Matt could sit.

“What’s your closing argument?” Declan asked, his young mind remembering some of the language that Matt and Foggy had been throwing around last night. “Something about the mindstate of a killer?”

Matt leaned back in the chair. “We’re going to present a few simple words, Dec. A few simple things that I believe will show the jury that what we’re saying, it isn’t nothing. It’s important. That your father couldn’t have been guilty of the murder.”

“What if they don’t believe you?” Declan asked.

Matt cocked his head to the side, as if he was listening for something. “Do you believe me?” He asked. “Do you believe your father?”

Declan turned and looked at the altar. “My dad is…”

“Complicated.”

Declan smiled, he couldn’t help himself. “Yeah. I honestly don’t know. He says he was on his way to work and that he couldn’t have been there, but he clocked in late that day. And-”

“I know what the facts are. I asked if you believed him.”

“I do.”

Matt nodded. “Do you believe me?”

“I do.”

“Then you’re going to be fine.”

==-==

“Ladies and Gentlemen, first off I want to thank you for being part of this jury. While you didn’t really ask for this job, it was the job given to you. Every day, juries are assembled, all around this city, all around this country. You don’t know the case that will be presented to you. You don’t know the facts that will be brought before you. But those facts are so important because through those facts, you must weigh someone’s innocence or guilt. You have to measure two arguments against each other and make a determination of what the outcome should be.”

Matt came around from where he was standing, behind the desk where Declan’s father sat. The blind lawyer came up to the podium, gripping either side.

“So let’s talk about the facts of this case. It’s a fact that bloody gloves were found in the gym bag in his car. This is undisputed. Also undisputed is that Jason’s blood was full of drugs. This is where the facts start to get murkier. The district attorney would have you believe that Jason was not under the influence of those drugs when he committed those murders. He would have you believe that Jason took those drugs afterwards, potentially due to a guilty conscience. Possibly even as a defense against what he knew would happen if the good individuals of the NYPD came knocking on his door. Then he decided to go to work as if nothing happened, even though he could barely move when the police found him.”

Matt shook his head, giving a rueful smile.

“But the district attorney would have you disregard some other facts. It’s a fact that Jason is an important member of his community. It’s a fact that character witnesses have stepped forward to vouch for him. It’s a fact that he participates in a program that speaks to at-risk youth to keep them away from drugs. Is this the same behavior as a man who kills a vice president of the Rand Corporation and then takes drugs?”

Matt shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe it is. Maybe Jason was so distraught after what he allegedly did that he tried to deal with that guilt with drugs. Maybe he was so broken up about it that he did shoot himself up with a drug cocktail. Maybe.”

He looked down at the podium, as if he was searching for something. Answers maybe. “Maybe he did all those things. Or maybe, as Jason has said, he truly doesn’t remember what happened that day. He doesn’t use drugs and there was someone else, someone who forcibly injected him. He had contusions consistent with a fight but we’re to believe those were caused by his alleged actions against the victim. Even though he was taller, outweighed the victim, and had training in how to fight.”

Matt looked up from the podium. “Understand you have a man’s life in your hands. Understand that the job before you is one that we enshrined with power for the purpose of being fair. Of searching for truth and justice. Is it justice when the district attorney could not produce actual evidence of Jason Harper being in the same building as the victim at the time of death. A basic part of establishing a chain of events. All we ask is you consider the facts and take from that what you will.”
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Mir
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Re: Scales of Justice

Post by Mir »

Declan Harper stood in the empty boxing gym. Sponsored by the Rand Corporation, Lucky’s gym was a home for at-risk youth. His father had been one of the people in-charge of the gym. Now, his father was in the custody of the state of New York. A guest, if one could call him that, of Riker’s Island. The jury had found against his father, after two weeks of a trial. There had been a few different witnesses and the testimony had gone on and on. Declan had attended when he could, but he had also needed to go to school. With his father being locked away now, on a second-degree murder charge, Declan wasn’t sure when the next time he would see the man.

At least, see him when he wasn’t in custody.

He had done some reading up on second-degree murder in the state of New York.

An intentional killing without a felony or an unintentional killing which exhibits a “depraved indifference to human life”. The third definition didn’t fit. Then again, Declan didn’t believe that any of them fit. He had a hard time believing his father had done the thing he was accused of doing.

Matt had asked Declan before the closing arguments whether Declan had believed in his father’s innocence and if he believed in Matt’s abilities. He definitely had, at the time. He’d needed to. What other option was there for a ten year old?

And now?

He wasn’t sure what to believe. He knew he needed to come up with a plan though. His father could get fifteen to twenty five years. He could also get life without possibility of parole for twenty five. Even assuming it was just the fifteen, Dec wasn’t going to see his dad until he was finished with college and starting his own life. That meant that the state was going to get involved, try to make him their ward.

Try because while he wasn’t sure what he was going to do next, he did know he wasn’t going to be a ward of the state.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

He turned.

A beautiful woman, with strawberry blonde hair was in the gym with him. She was wearing a dark brown trench coat, over a black top and a khaki colored skirt. She held a folder in her hands. He knew her.

“May need more than a penny considering my situation, Karen.” Declan said.

Karen Page smiled. “Yeah, it doesn’t look too good, does it kid?” She asked, leaning against a column. “Let’s say my scratch is good enough though, what’s going on in that head of yours?” She asked.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do.” Declan said, throwing a straight punch against a punching bag. “We’ve got some money but it’s not enough to last more than a few months. Landlord probably going to throw me out. Can’t be renting to a kid.”

“Sure, sure.” She said, gently. “Child services could get involved.” The smile grew when he made a face. “I get it.” She said. “Listen, Matt and I were talking.” She said. “Obviously, this would be better coming from him, but he’s a bit busy at the moment. We were thinking, what if you became Matt’s ward?”
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Mir
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Re: Scales of Justice

Post by Mir »

Declan stared at the wall, sighing. He sat in the dean’s office of his school, trying really hard not to lose his shit. He had gotten into a fight and was waiting for Karen to get him. His fists sung in pain, and he looked at the blood that was starting to cake. Some of it was his, some of it was the other kid’s blood. After three months with Matt and Karen, he was ready to get the hell out of there. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but what he hadn’t expected was that Matt would barely be around. Either the guy was in his law offices or he was…somewhere.

Inexplicably somewhere.

Declan couldn’t tell where he was. Karen wouldn’t tell him. He wasn’t sure if she even knew herself. He could tell though there was something she wasn’t telling him.

He was pretty much left to his own devices during the evenings. Charged with doing his homework and being responsible by Matt, he was doing what he was supposed to do, only because that’s what he’d always been taught by his dad. Matt hadn’t needed to do much in that department. Karen stopped by when she could but between helping Matt in the law office as well as her own job as a journalist, she was pretty busy too.

So he got to spend a lot of time at Lucky’s gym which was nice.

He’d see Foggy a few times each week, which was a pretty good deal all around. Foggy was cool. Matt was distant. Karen was tired. That was the easiest way to describe them all, to Declan.

What they weren’t though, was his dad.

The pain in his hands reminded him why he was sitting there in the first place.

Declan didn’t really have to deal with too many bullies over the years. Most of the kids in his class were people he had grown up with so they all knew each other, pretty much. There was a new kid though, he’d only been in their school for a few months. He was a bit off an asshole.

That kid had decided to start making fun of Declan for what had happened to his father. The first time, whatever.

The second time, okay annoying.

The third time, now it’s becoming a problem.

By the fourth time, Declan had decided the fifth time would be the last time.

Now, because of that fifth time, he was sitting in the dean’s office waiting to be collected by Karen. He didn’t regret anything.

He instantly regretted everything when the door to the office opened and it was not Karen Page who walked in, but Matt Murdock.

Son of a bitch.
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Mir
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Re: Scales of Justice

Post by Mir »

“What happened.”

It was less question and more statement, Declan could tell. Despite the fact that Matt was blind, Declan couldn’t help but look away. “I’m sorry.” He said. “I didn’t mean to.”

Matt shook his head as they stood in the hallway outside of the principal’s office. There were a few students walking by as it was the end of the day and kids were going home. “We’ll get to that. I asked what happened.” He said.

So Declan told him.

He told him what the bully had said about his father. Then he told him exactly how the bully had said it. He watched Matt’s mouth thinned. Once he was done, he waited for Matt to pass judgment. He knew that whatever Matt would say would be infinitely worse than whatever the school was going to say or do.

“You’re not sorry.” Matt said. “You did mean to.”

“I…”

“Don’t lie, I’ll know.” Matt said, folding his arms over his chest.

Declan hung his head. “I’m not sorry, and I did mean to do it. He shouldn’t be saying things like that.” Declan said. “And he does things like to this other kids too!” Declan protested.

“Did you talk to a teacher?”

“I did.” He replied. “They didn’t do anything. I told them every time.”

Matt’s mouth thinned.

Declan could tell that he was angry. They’d given it a shot. It had been a good run of three months. But that was how things went sometimes. He was pretty sure that Matt was going to decide he wasn’t worth the effort and maybe the foster system would be better suited for Declan. Time and time again, Declan had seen his father work hard and eventually get such a setback that it seemed as though the amount of work he’d put in had meant nothing.

That was one of Declan’s fears regarding his father’s prison sentence. How much worse could it get? More importantly, was he just like his father?

“Every time.” Matt said and again it was less question than statement. He nodded slowly. “Well that certainly changes things.” He said. “Come on.” He unfurled his arms and put one of them around Declan’s shoulder. “There’s a good chance you’re going to get suspended.” He said. “I mean, that is, if you didn’t have one of New York City’s preeminent defense lawyers working your case.”

Relief flooded through Declan to the point he thought his legs might give out.

“You know where I can call one of those?” He asked, unable to help himself.

“A jokester.” Matt replied. “Listen, don’t be smiling when we walk in there.” He said, opening the door.

Declan was so happy he didn’t stop to think how Matt knew he was grinning from ear to ear.
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Mir
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Re: Scales of Justice

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Declan adjusted the tie he was wearing, trying to figure out why he was wearing it in the first place. He understood the concept of “Sunday best” but he didn’t think Matt was going to force him into this monkey suit. Thankfully, Mass was almost over. Declan was Catholic, but he had quickly found out that apparently there were varying degrees of Catholic. Matt, on the other hand, was Catholic. It meant something different with Matt. Declan leaned back in the pew and looked up at the ceiling, but was brought back down from the heavens when Matt tapped on his knee.

He still wasn’t sure how the hell Matt was able to tell what he was doing at any given point in time. It was like a weird radar sense. Declan brought his eyes back down as the priest continued with the homily. He understood what the message was.

Loaves and fishes. The idea of sharing with those around you while trusting in the Lord at all times. He could understand it, but he had heard it before. That was the problem. Declan, without moving his head, cast his eyes out through the stained glass of the church. It was a nice Sunday. Maybe he could convince Matt they should get a hot dog after Mass.

He watched over in another section of the church, as a young girl, around his age, fidgeted a bit. She was clearly chafing under similar restrictions.

By the time Mass was over, Declan was ready to go.

Once they were outside, he turned to Matt to ask about the hot dog but saw the older man looking at the church’s entrance. He followed Matt’s line of sight, even though that didn’t make sense. The family Declan had seen himself were walking down the steps. He turned back.

“You ready to get out of here?” He asked.

“Mass is a serious thing.” Matt said, quietly.

“I know, it’s just the entire day is still here.” Declan said. “Sun is up, all that jazz.”

“You got somewhere to be?”

“A hot dog stand preferably.” Declan replied.

Matt paused for a second and laughed. “Sure, but I’ve got to get some work done after that. I’ve got a big case coming up. Double homicide.” He said.

“Want some help?” Declan asked.

“You want to help me on this case?”

“Sure, why not?”
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Re: Scales of Justice

Post by Mir »

Matt and Declan sat at a table in the one meeting room in Nelson and Murdock. The law firm was small but cozy in a “sometimes our clients don’t pay us in money but in vegetables and baked goods” kind of way. As far as Declan could tell, Matt and Foggy were very in-demand attorneys but they also were quite selective in which cases they took. There had to be a sense of injustice, of someone unfairly accused, something along that nature.

His thoughts drifted to his father, but he picked up some of the papers on the table to get his mind away from all of that. It wouldn’t do to dwell.

“So this is an interesting case.” Matt said. “It’s a double homicide. The defendant is stating they were enraged after catching the two victims in bed together.” He said. “One of the victims was his wife, the other was a random person. They were engaging in an affair.”

“This seems to be kind of straightforward, Matt.” Declan said, reading over Matt’s case synopsis, dictated by him and typed up by the sole legal secretary they had, Marlie Ayala.

“Many things seem to be that way.” Matt replied, setting out more of the papers. He had a lot of things printed in braille.

Declan was starting to pick up on some braille but man was it tough. He couldn’t imagine what it was like for Matt, especially since he had lost his eyesight after he had been able to see for years. To have to learn a whole new language, just with your fingers. It was incredible. He cocked his head to the side, as if that would change his perspective. “What do you mean?” He asked.

“Well, you have to wonder, why the DA has offered a deal.” Matt stated. “You see the DA wants our client to be a state’s witness to a number of cases. There’s a hearsay issue in a lot of them, but it’s less of a testifying thing and more of a general information thing. It turns out it wasn’t just anyone that his wife was sleeping with.”

Declan’s eyes narrowed. “Who was it?” He asked.

“A guy by the name of Archibald Worthy. Now, terrible first name aside, Archie happened to be someone of importance in a certain criminal organization. He told our client’s wife a few things and she happened to write some of them down.” He said.

“But wouldn’t they be able to just take what she wrote? Like isn’t that, I don’t know, part of like...evidence?” Declan asked.

“Sure, sure.” Matt said. “But as it so happens, she wrote them down in a document on a computer. The computer isn’t your standard kind of computer. It was built to have a high level of encryption.”

Declan sat back in his seat, confused. “Why?”

“Our client built it for the work he does as part of a government think tank.”

Matt smiled. “The only way to get in, is to get a password that only he has.” Matt said.

Declan nodded. “Ultimately, he’s still guilty though.” Declan said and Matt nodded in agreement. “So why are you representing him?”


“I represent guilty people all the time.” Matt said. “Even if I believe someone should be behind bars, they’re entitled to the best representation they can have. Consider it a civic duty. It’s part of being a lawyer. Even terrible people deserve to have someone advocate for them. Also, it pays for when the people who are innocent but can’t afford someone like me need that same level of help. They shouldn’t be left out to dry.”

An advocate.

Declan liked the sound of that.
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Re: Scales of Justice

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His sneakers slapped against the hallway’s floor as Declan walked through his school. The school day had ended and he was on his way out the door. Declan thought about what he’d been reading this morning, concerning Archibald Worthy. Matt and Foggy had prepared Worthy and he had taken the deal with the state government. The deal had been a rather good one, and had allowed him to avoid jail time completely. The man had apparently refused witness protection, instead taking his chances on the streets. That had been a rather unwise decision on his part.

Worthy had been murdered.

The rumor was that the assassin Bullseye had been involved. Daredevil had been there as well and the two had clashed on the rooftops of Manhattan. But Daredevil had not been able to thwart Worthy’s murder.

Declan let the afternoon sunlight hit his face. He shaded his eyes as he looked up to see what the clouds were like. It didn’t look as though rain was on its way. He smiled, thinking about the walk home and how he was looking forward to a game of soccer in the park. The weekend was upon them and he was going to take advantage of it. He’d made plans to visit Lucky’s gym.

After everything that had happened with his father, he’d been worried that Rand was going to pull the funding. Matt had said he would talk to Daniel Rand about keeping it going and it looked as though the talk hadn’t needed to be that in-depth. Rand was still funding the gym and Declan popped in from time to time. He’d already spoken to Matt who had said it was fine to go to the gym. Matt needed to go upstate to visit a client in state prison and he would be gone for the entire weekend, as he was spending Friday night there and then visiting a few friends Saturday and Sunday. As a result, Declan was going to stay at the gym.

Matt had wanted him to stay with Karen but Declan had convinced Matt by promising to have all his work done and the house cleaned.

Declan had needed some time to himself and just wanted to be around something that reminded him of his father.

Matt had accepted that and Declan had appreciated it.

He headed down the steps and soon was weaving his way through New York City pedestrian traffic. An accomplishment at any time of the day really. He wasn’t really paying too much attention to what was around him. He knew the route and could do it by memory if needed. He came to a screeching halt at one corner, not realizing the light had changed. Pedestrians were the ones who controlled the traffic here in New York, but he wasn’t going to take his chances.

Declan turned at the sound of his name, wondering who was calling him.

His eyes widened, as he realized who it was.

It was the school bully.

And he wasn’t alone.
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Re: Scales of Justice

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Declan was running through the streets of New York. Stoplights were not his concern at the moment. What concerned him was keeping as much distance between himself and the assholes chasing him. He slid over the top of a car waiting at a stoplight and kept it moving. He wasn’t sure if they were still behind him, but he wasn’t going to stop. There was no shame in his game here, he was about survival. Stumbling over himself as he swerved to avoid a lady holding some shopping bags, he spared a glance of his shoulder.

Son of a bitch.

They were still following him.

He thought about ducking into a store, but Declan didn’t know who was going to offer him shelter and the last thing he wanted to do was bring the fight to someone else’s place. It was his fault.

Declan had gotten suspended. But so had the asshole who had been talking shit about his dad. It was clearly evident that the suspension had not gotten the guy to cool off and had only pissed him off even more. So now, here he was, running for his life.

He came around a corner and almost had to come to a screeching halt. There was a truck that was blocking part of the sidewalk, making a delivery down one of those drop down chutes that some restaurants or places had in the front of their store. Declan didn’t have much time to decide on what to do and kept running, sliding underneath the truck to make it to the other side. He hoped that it did a decent job of making those kids think he had kept going down the other block.

Declan wasn’t going to take any chances though. He kept running and started moving to different blocks. He was going out of his way and taking longer to get back to Matt’s apartment, but he just didn’t want to get beaten up.

He turned another corner and started up the block, looking to get back on track towards where he was headed. Declan was close to the intersection when a plastic bottle flew past his head. Declan turned and his eyes widened.

They were right behind him. How the hell?

He didn’t have time to think about it.

He just turned and ran.

Right into oncoming traffic.

Declan saw a truck of some kind, small but the back of it was one of those liquid containers. He saw the logo on the side.

Rand Corporation.

As the truck skidded, flipping towards him, Declan fell backwards. The metal hit the ground in front of him, denting the metal past it’s breaking point. The liquid sprayed outwards, directly towards his face.
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Re: Scales of Justice

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Matt sat in the hospital room, his eyes closed. He was trying to concentrate on a few of the sounds he could hear. He remembered when he had woken up in the hospital, with his newfound abilities. He had been in a world of darkness and sounds had pulled him out of the mystery. It had taken him years to fully learn how to use all of the abilities for his benefit. But here he was, all those years later.

Despite having his eyes closed, he could see.

The boy was resting, bandages all around his head.

Matt had no idea what had fully happened to Declan. He only knew from what little he’d been told there had been some kind of an accident involving a chemical truck. The fact that it had been a Rand Corporation owned truck didn’t matter to him. He knew what his first priority was. Make sure the boy was alright. He had reached out to Rand to see if they could tell him what the chemicals were and the staff at the Manhattan branch were working on getting the information to him.

He didn’t know if it would help the doctors, but some information had to be better than no information. The tests that were being done didn’t seem as though they were having good results. At least, they hadn’t told him the results. If they had been good, they would have told him.

Matt unconsciously reached into his pocket, to where he kept a Rosary ring. His fingers moved over the edges of the ring as he prayed to the Virgin Mary. The steady beeping of the machines was the only chorus to his entreaties.

“Matt?”

Matt was up from he sat in the corner of the hospital room.

“Declan?” He asked, looking down at the young man as he stirred in the hospital bed. “How do you feel?”

“Like I got hit by a truck. Everything…everything hurts.”

One of the limitations of Matt’s powers was that while he had a pseudo form of vision, information displayed on blank screens was still impossible to read. Put in other terms, he couldn’t view things on monitors or screens. He couldn’t tell whether Declan was receiving the right amount of pain medication, so he could only put his trust in the hospital staff that they were treating him properly.

“What’s on my face?” Declan asked.

“Bandages.” Matt said. “You had some…something sprayed into your eyes.” He said. “We’re trying to figure out what it is.” He said and placed a hand on Declan’s shoulder as the boy tried to rise. “Just rest, we’ll figure out what’s going on.”
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Re: Scales of Justice

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Declan couldn’t see.

He knew it was because of the bandages. Bandages that were supposed to come off today. The bandages also wrapped tightly around his ears and his nose. He stared up at the ceiling. Well, he thought he was, he couldn’t really tell. His head was on his pillow and he thought he was looking up, but he couldn’t know for sure. In the darkness, he was trapped, but he knew the bandages were coming off. Matt told him they weren’t sure what was going to happen with his eyesight. Declan was ready for that. He felt he was. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen, but one thing he had learned from Matt was that there was nothing someone could do when faced with adversity but to push through it.

What other option was there?

He had faced adversity already in his life. This was yet another test, sent from Heaven above. Why he was being sent this test? Didn’t he already have enough on his plate?

He knew what Matt’s answers to these questions would be.

Declan heard the door open to his room, muffled. He turned towards the sound as the doctor and nurse came in. He heard the chair to his right scrape a bit as Matt rose. They were talking, in low voices.

“What’s going on?” Declan asked.

“They’re getting ready to take the bandages off.” Matt said and Declan nodded.

“Let’s do it.” He said.

The process didn’t take long. It didn’t take longer than he had already waited. Declan tried to keep his breathing even but he had moments where he got nervous. Finally, the bandages were off.

The darkness was still there.

He blinked. He could feel himself blinking. And yet…nothing. There was nothing there. The other thing he could feel, besides the blinking, were the tears welling up behind his eyes. Declan lowered his head.

“Unfortunately, we’re still not certain what reaction could have happened. Whether it’s a nerves issue or something else.” The doctor said. “I’m truly sorry.” He added.

“It’s alright.” Matt said. “We’ll see what can be done on our end. I’ve been in touch with the Rand Corporation and we have the loadout of what that truck was carrying. You’ll be able to send me your notes?” He asked.

“Of course, you’re Declan’s legal guardian.” The doctor said.

Declan couldn’t stop the tears, the same way he couldn’t bring his eyesight back.
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Re: Scales of Justice

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Declan tapped around. There was one thing that had been helpful with everything that had happened. If you were going to lose your eyesight, for some reason, then Matt Murdock was probably the best person to be the one charged with taking care of you. Matt already lived in a place that was proofed for someone who couldn’t see. He also had the equipment needed. Which meant the white cane. He was starting to learn better about how to use it though. One or two instructional sessions weren’t really enough to master it.

It had been a few days since he had been discharged from the hospital. It had been a few days since he had been told he would never see again.

Matt had told him he was in touch with Danny Rand and they had a loadout of what was in the truck, but what did it matter? The odds of them coming up with some solution to fix this problem was slim, he could tell. Karen and Matt had been arguing about it last night. Karen had been telling Matt that he needed to let it go and that he couldn’t try to see himself in Declan.

Matt had fired back that that wasn’t what he was doing, it was that he could understand what Declan was going through. Karen wanted them to protect Declan and Matt said he wanted them to trust Declan.

Declan wasn’t fully sure what all of that meant, but he knew the history between the two of them ran deep. Maybe it had something to do with how Matt had lost his eyesight himself? He’d never really asked. Just accepted it as that was how life was.

He was trying to figure out how to accept that this was how his life would be too.

Declan’s concentration couldn’t be in two places at once and he missed a sitting chair, walking into it and falling forward. He heard a side table scrap against the floor as he collided with it, on the other side of the chair. He went to push himself up, but even with the walking he was doing, his legs were still bouncing back from being in a hospital bed for so long and he rolled off the chair and onto the floor.

Had his eyes been open, he would have been staring up at the ceiling of the apartment.

He sighed.

He could feel tears welling up, but he couldn’t see them. None of it made sense. He swiped at his eyes and then felt around for the cane. Grabbing it, he got up and took a deep breath. Starting the tapping again, he made his way out of the apartment and down the street.

The noise of New York City. Even when you could see what was around you, you could be overwhelmed by it. The little things. The wind rushing through the trees. Random people talking and conducting their business and their lives. The movement of cars and the reduced but still present honking of horns. It was all there. It was all coming at him.

He didn’t want to run away from it. He wanted to embrace it.

But first he needed to learn how to embrace it.
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