Jessica groans when her shampoo bottle falls off the shelf and topples to the ceramic floor, narrowly missing her toes. She kicks it around a few times, just so the plastic bottle can suffer.
This is what she gets for taking a shower for the first time in days: A bony elbow knocking down shit, barely avoiding smashing her feet. Cursing out the innocent bottle, Jessica snatches it off the ground and angrily slams it down back on the shelf.
When the ceramic tiles crack Jessica curses louder. “Oh for fuck’s sake,” She mutters, wishing, not for the first time, that she didn’t have super strength.
The water turns from lukewarm to frigid in a quick minute, and Jessica would rather bathe in the arctic than steal a few more minutes in her own bathroom.
Just as Jessica is pretty sure her night can’t get worse, a noise from her office distracts herself from toweling off. Unlike half of the women in her apartment building, Jessica walks to her office with a tank top and underwear on, so tired of the world that she doesn’t even care what kind of shit it throws at her at this point.
There’s a black figure at the base of her window, broken blinds framing the shape.
Upon further inspection, Jess groans. “This is why I can’t have nice things,”
The world has thrown her more shit in the form of one Matthew Michael Murdock.
From the floor he groans, “‘Ey, Jess.” And slips off his stupid black piece of fabric that he uses as a sad excuse of a mask.
At least it’s not her scarf.
“Oh. My. God. It’s too late for this. Wayyyy too late for this,” She mutters while attempting to untangle him from his cocoon of blinds. She recoils when the white stripes are decorated with blood. “The fuck happened, Matt?”
Attempting to prop himself up on the wall, Matt answers, “I, uh, may have gotten stabbed?”
“Yeah, no,” Jessica muses, “You definitely got stabbed.” She leaves him for a second to grab a rag from the kitchen, and presses it down on the back of his shoulder where blood is steadily streaming out of.
However a shout from Matt causes her to jerk back. “What’d I do? Matt?”
The vigilante groaning turns into a shout, “‘S still in there, don’t, don’t press down,”
“What?” Jessica peers past the black fabric of his skin tight shirt “Wait, what’s still in there?”
In a sad excuse of a response Matt asks her, “You ever use a box cutter?”
“For fuck’s sake, Murdock,”
“The blades come off really easily-”
Jessica throws her hands up in the air, “You have a box cutter in there? What the fuck!”
Matt shrugs with one shoulder, “‘S not the whole thing, just the blade. I’d get it myself but I can’t get a good angle.”
Rolling her eyes Jessica mutters, “You’re an idiot, you know that?”
“I’ve heard it once or twice,” Matt recalls with a shit eating grin.
“Okay,” Jessica starts, shaking her head, “So what, I just, pull it out with tweezers? Should I get some tweezers? Why’d you come here, man? I thought you had like a nun or something to take care of your problems,”
“Tweezers, yes.” Matt answers first. “And your place was closer than the church.”
“Oh great,” She calls while walking to the bathroom, “So am I just on call now?” When there’s no response she pokes her head out of the doorway, “Matt?”
“Sorry,” He notes, his grin falling down, “I can go, it’s really not that much trouble.”
Jessica gives a dramatic eye roll that she hopes Matt can smell or something, and crouches back down next to him. “It was a joke, dumbass. It’s fine if you come here.” With Matt’s raised eyebrows she elaborates, “What? It’s not like I get any sleep nowadays.”
Pulling his shirt over his head with a wince Matt grins, “Careful, Jess, people are gonna start thinking you care.”
“Oh, I’m not in any danger of that,” She playfully replies. “Okay, how far down is this sucker?” She asks, using her phone flashlight to look at the gruesome wound.
Matt tilts his head to the side before answering, “Eh, not that far. Just pinch back the cut with your other hand and reach in with the tweezers.”
“I want you to know that your nonchalant answers are not reassuring.”
“Sorry,”
“It’s fine. Okay!” She says, wishing that she had a drink right about now. “I think I see it. So, what? Count of three?”
Matt groans, “Just do it.”
Jessica swallows and plunges in the tweezers, trying her best to ignore Matt’s painful shaking. The tweezers slip once, twice, but on the third try she’s able to get a good enough grip on it to pull it out of the sensitive flesh.
It makes a tink when it hits her floor.
“Alright, got it,” She announces, and frowns when Matt doesn’t reply. “Murdock? Still got a brain in there?”
Matt lets his head fall back onto her wall. “Mmhm. So uh, how do you feel about stitches?”
“Ugh, you’re killing me, Murdock,” Jessica murmurs, but is already fetching her first-aid kit that Claire demanded she get.
Scrunching his eyes, Matt notes, “It doesn’t need much, maybe three or four stitches.”
Jessica sits back down next to Matt, first-first aid in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other. “You ready for disinfecting?” She asks, sloshing the amber liquid in the bottle.
Matt gives a simple reply taking the form of a groan, which Jessica assumes is a “yes”.
Besides, she’s going to shower that wound in whiskey whether or not Matt wants her to.
“One, two-” She pours the bottle, ignoring the fact that it’s going to soak Matt’s pants and get all over her floor.
Matt curses, hands curling up into fists. He’s still breathing heavily even after Jessica’s finished.
“You good? Matt? You good?” Untrusting of his words to not shake, Matt just nods. “Okay, ready for stitches?”
After clearing his throat Matt grins and answers, “Ready as I’ll ever be,”
While Jessica casually slips the needle and thread underneath her friend’s skin, she attempts to make small talk that ends up just being her ranting about Trish and Malcolm.
Absently, she notes that this is probably the closest she’s going to get to therapy.
She finally finishes off the final knot, and takes a swig of whiskey to celebrate. She holds the bottle out to Matt, who knows exactly where it is with his freaky radar senses, and he takes a long gulp.
After she steals the bottle back she scoots back to the wall, resting against it next to Matt.
They spend a few minutes mutely passing back and forth the bottle until there’s no more amber left.
“Thanks, Jess,” Matt says in his atoning Catholic voice, but Jess puts a hand on his good shoulder so he can’t get up.
“Stay.” She says before she can even stop herself.
Matt’s just as surprised about it as she is. “What?”
Lightly knocking her skull against the wall she answers, “Shut up, Murdock.”
“I didn’t say anything!”
“Stop thinking, mmkay?” She closes one eye to get a closer look inside the bottle but nope! There really is nothing left. “Just, stay?”
Matt turns his head toward her, obviously for her benefit and not his, and nods. “‘Kay. I’ll stay.” He then flicks the glass bottle with his finger nail and asks, “Got anymore of this?”
Jessica gives a drunken laugh, and Matt joins in, still on an adrenaline high.
In a matter of seconds they’re both laughing maniacally, and for the first time in months, Jessica feels weightless.