Sam was used to pain.
He was a gymnast and was mentored by the fucking Daredevil while moonlighting as a vigilante, so of course, he was used to the pain.
He was also used to the dark, to some extent.
What he wasn't used to was the complete and total darkness and the certainty that it won't ever go away. Coupling that with the searing pain in his eyes, Sam was sure, he had never felt this agony before, and he will be damned if he ever does feel it again.
In this warehouse with the smell of blood surrounding him and pain numbing his thoughts, he took a deep breath and screamed. And screamed. He screamed so loud that his throat hurt, so powerfully that his lungs complained, and so completely that he didn't feel anything afterwards.
Time for pitying will come later on, right now he had to get his ass out of there and instant medical attention to his eyes, and possibly the rest of his body.
He got up and promptly collapsed. His legs too weak to hold his body up. Sam contemplated what to do. He knew that Daredevil probably heard him, would likely be on his way to help him, but if, for some reason he couldn't come Sam would have to figure out his rescue by himself.
He had a burner phone on him, but it was doubtful that it would still work if it even survived the fight between Muse and him. Sam could still try. So with all strength he didn't know he had, he pulled the burner out of his pocket and called the only contact on it. Daredevil.
If he didn't hear Sam's scream, he will, without a doubt answer the phone.
He didn't answer the phone.
"Seriously, man?" Sam grumbled while staring at the phone as if it betrayed him. "What's the point of super senses if you can't even answer the phone on time?"
Well, staring was a loose word, he looked at the direction of the phone while religiously ignoring the realisation that he might never see it again.
Welp, there goes any progress towards accepting it. Is there any use of having genius-level intellect if you can't even speed up the five stages of grief? He should ask Tony Stark for some tips. Lord knows the man has enough trauma, he might even have some tips for Sam. Probably starting with, don't go after assholes who want you dead without any backup.
Yeah, this wasn't going to be easy.
His loss of sight had the potential to be a huge hindrance or it could be of some use. There had to be a positive side to this, Sam refused to believe that this was the end for him, for Blindspot. He could train his other senses, he could design something that would help, maybe a surgery to replace his eyesight. He could do something.
Sam was just about to spiral into a well of anger and desperation when he heard the noise. Footsteps.
Someone was coming in here and if it were a hostile, Sam had no chance to defend himself. If this the way he dies, he will at least go down fighting. Not lying on the ground and bleeding out from God knows how many places. With a groan, he got up on his knees. Reaching out blindly to steady himself, Sam pushed and tried to get on his feet.
Blood loss was making his mind fuzzy, but at least, the wounds had started clotting.
"Are you an idiot? Stop moving," Daredevil's gruff voice commanded and Sam felt a surge of relief course through his blood. He wasn't going to die.
"Are you listening to me? Stop moving before you bleed out."
He sounded exasperated, Sam noted dryly, well at least he'll understand how I feel when he fights with a gunshot wound.
Sam turned around he face him, going with the direction of his voice and aimed a small smile at him, -hopefully it was Daredevils and not some wall because Sam was now fucking blind - and promptly fainted. As last of his consciousness left him, he heard Daredevil out-cuss a sailor.
***
When he woke up, Sam was on a couch.
He felt the rough texture of the couch and tried to place if he's been on it before. Tried to use his hearing to figure out where he was. Tried to think and do anything that would distract him from his new found disability.
He knew he was being a unreasonable. Sam knew for a fact that being blind wasn't the end of the world. He knew that he could design something that could link his optic nerves with his brain. Ultimately, Sam knew that, but he was having trouble processing it.
There's a lawyer, Sam thought, a blind lawyer who's famous for putting Fisk away, maybe he could help me figure this out.
"You're awake, that's good," a female voice said, she sounded tired. "Daredevil brought you here last night. You had multiple injuries including a couple of broken ribs and strained muscles. You'll be fine and you should be able to start doing work again by the end of the month." She paused and it gave Sam a chance to process the information. He was going to be fine in regards to his body. But waiting for a month seemed excessive.
"I assume you know about your eyesight, I am just a nurse so I cannot say anything definitive about it but I will suggest to go to an optometrist for professional opinion."
"I will, thank you. I don't know who you are but seem to know DD, so can you pass him my thanks for saving my life," Sam said. He swallowed a lump in his throat at the thought of confirming what he already knew.
"Right, I'm Claire, I've been his nurse for a while now and you can always come back if you need some assistance. As for passing your thanks, how about you do it yourself?" Claire replied.
That's when Sam heard another person enter the room.
"I thought you left."
"I couldn't leave you until I knew you'd be fine," Daredevil replied. His voice coming from somewhere on his right. "And you will be fine, we'll come up with something to help you out."
There was something in his voice that Sam couldn't place. It sounded like understanding, as if he'd been here before, but that couldn't be it. Could it?
"I appreciate it, DD. It's nice to know someone has faith when I don't," Sam's voice cracked by the end of the sentence. Oh hey there, lump of emotions, I don't need you right now so please go away.
"It sounds impossible right now, but it really isn't. Trust me on that," DD sounded confident, firm. It was hard not to believe him, so Sam nodded and hoped that the topic would end there.
His face must have said something because Daredevil said that he knew a lawyer that could use his help, but more importantly, Sam could use the help of. Matt Murdock, is his name and he's blind too. Sam could be a useful legal assistant, plus, work might be able to help keep his mind off of things and keep him productive.
With that in mind, Sam agreed.
***
The month passed by in a blur. He started working at Nelson & Murdock, learned Braille, adjusted to his life as a blind person with the help of Matt, who's extremely patient and understanding.
He was finally starting to feel good. He had gotten the all-clear from Claire to start his nightly activities, but instead of jumping on the chance, he worked with Daredevil to hone his skills and work around his disability. When he had the time, he worked on something that could potentially give his vision back, but so far he hasn't made any progress.
Life was improving, so of course that's when it all went to shit. Starting with, his mother kidnapped him and made a deal with an immortal beast called Beast, to give his eyesight back.
Yeah, damn life.