let the devil out

Culpa.

Fault for actions taken.

A fight brought to an enemy may feel like the best course, and the decision to do so may be made consciously and without regret.

"The guy you threw off the roof at my building? He's in a coma."

"Yeah, I heard."

"How do you feel about that?"

"I'll live."

We may ignore the costs and be ready to shake off the toll of our efforts,

"You worried about me?"

"What if I were?"

"I would tell you I'm a big boy, and not to be."

and bear the consequences of the fight in the name of fulfilling the mission.

"You're gonna get yourself killed. You really gotta ease up."

"No I can't, not yet."

But the events of life are a chain reaction, and repercussions can come quickly to the responsible one, or they can be a slow forming rift that takes the ground out from beneath the innocent.

"It's not just about you. It's a little more complicated than that."

Headstrong and blind actions can pull in surrounding parties. And guilt and fault for their misfortune then lies with the one who pushed too far heedless of the ripple effect.




Life in the office has calmed down since the Heely case even as things have picked up in Matt's nightlife following his last encounter with the man.

After hours keeps Matt busy with more run ins with the Russians as he tries to chase down the name Heely gave him, while by day Nelson and Murdock's cases have been much more mundane than a murder trial. Their clients have been good people, innocent people.

Foggy has complaints about their latest, but even drunk electricians need a lawyer some nights.

"My mom wanted me to be a butcher, you know that?" Foggy says as they step out into the cool night air after bailing out a man named Ed.

"No, not the butcher story," Matt bemoans, hearing the all too familiar opening line to Foggy's favorite anecdote to tell when he's frustrated with his chosen career path.

"I don't remember what I said next," Foggy goes on.

"No, you never do."

If they weren't best friends Matt might have had to strangle Foggy over the story years ago, as it is he just walks along and listens for the upteenth time as Foggy talks about making his own pickles and corned beef, and complains about where they are in the world.

"Matt, what if we're doing this all wrong?" Foggy asks, finally getting to the point. "What if Landman and Zack was the way to go?"

Matt shakes his head, reminding Foggy, "You hated interning there."

"I hate being broke," Foggy returns.

Matt can't really argue that, but he can point out why the sacrifice they've made is worth it. "You think Landman and Zack would have helped out Ed?"

No, the overpriced, stuffed shirt firm wouldn't have thought twice about the man.

"We're doing good here, Foggy."

"Are we?" Foggy counters, doubtful, as he hails a cab.

"Yeah, we're making a difference," Matt assures his friend as the phone inside his jacket pocket begins to ring.

It's Claire, on a burner phone Matt got for them. Before she can speak Matt asks her to hold while he sends Foggy on his way.

"Get home safe," he calls out after Foggy before turning his attention to Claire.

"Hey, what's up?"

She doesn't reply so he says her name and that's when he hears her strangled cry.

"Claire!"

Heart up high in his throat Matt breaks into a run. He tosses the burner phone first, then ditches the cane while cutting through an alleyway, looking to gain height and make time, desperate to reach Claire.

After clambering up a fire escape Matt sprints across rooftops, charging into an apartment building where he'd met Claire just the night before. The door breaks in under his momentum when he reaches it and Matt stands gasping in the threshold, already knowing he's too late.

She's gone.

Her phone is lying on the floor where she dropped it and he pitches a chair into the wall in frustration and anger.

Desperate, he goes to the window, shoving it open and calming his breath enough to focus his senses, filtering through the landscape sounds of the city; sirens, horns, laughter and shouting. The Hell's Kitchen chaos bleeds away and he finds voices in among the jangle. Russian, down in the alley below.

Like a shot he's off again, back out the apartment door and into...




[dialogue taken from Netflix' Daredevil: 1.4 - In the Blood]