Matt "TL;DR GINGER" Murdock (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
notdaredevil) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenacelogs2015-06-28 05:56 pm
notdaredevil) wrote in maskormenacelogs2015-06-28 05:56 pm
[closed] turn down the lights, turn down the bed
WHO: Matt Murdock & Lil Crawley
WHERE: The House of Crawley-Murdock
WHEN: night of June 28th/June 29th in the early house
WHAT: It's all Isaac Clarke's fault they have to have a conversation about their future.
WARNINGS: Melodrama, tw for potential mentions of: murder, suicide, past emotional abuse, past trauma including but not limited to possession, concentration camps, significant physical damage. General dysfunctional relationship issues.
[ There's an elephant in the room and he's ignoring it.
She might be letting him ignore it. She might not even know it's there. But it's been lurking in the corners of every interaction they've had since he first came back to her over a month ago. The fragility of the life they were living together didn't seem so obvious until his disappearance shattered it, and now it's hard to shake that itch between the shoulder blades, of something dangerous and terrible waiting just at your back. A feeling unrelieved by having 360 radar senses.
Of course any relationship with Matt Murdock is doomed. If not because of the fact that he tends to attract obsessive, creepy enemies who take out their frustrations with him on his closest loved ones, than because Matt himself is a demanding and selfish person who can be overbearing and difficult to deal with, particularly in a bad mood. He doesn't compromise well. Really, they should consider themselves lucky they made it past the first month. But it's doomed for reasons that have nothing to do with their personalities, or the direct consequences of his actions. It's doomed because they don't belong here. It's doomed because either one of them could leave at any time, and either one of them could be replaced with some other version. He can't fix the Porter's unpredictability with his fists. It's not as though Matt was unaware; it's not even as though he hasn't been asked about it before. Hank put the question to him months ago.
(The first time Hank came back; Matt doesn't know if he should hope for there to be a second. His car, sitting in their garage, is an painful reminder, and Matt knows he's not going to do a damn thing but keep it. Just in case.)
Lil's too smart not to see it, too. Matt can't keep her in the dark. But he can keep her from noticing how much it's weighed on him lately, even as he throws himself headlong into visibility, potentially drawing all the wrong attention. Ignoring the weight of the universe and its cruel whims. Lying next to her in bed, their usual athletic activities for the evening concluded, he just waits for her to fall asleep so he can sneak out again. Take out all his frustrations on the streets. So they can get up tomorrow, and keep pretending there's not a shadow over their happiness that has nothing to do with what he does, or how he might have changed in his absence. ]
WHERE: The House of Crawley-Murdock
WHEN: night of June 28th/June 29th in the early house
WHAT: It's all Isaac Clarke's fault they have to have a conversation about their future.
WARNINGS: Melodrama, tw for potential mentions of: murder, suicide, past emotional abuse, past trauma including but not limited to possession, concentration camps, significant physical damage. General dysfunctional relationship issues.
[ There's an elephant in the room and he's ignoring it.
She might be letting him ignore it. She might not even know it's there. But it's been lurking in the corners of every interaction they've had since he first came back to her over a month ago. The fragility of the life they were living together didn't seem so obvious until his disappearance shattered it, and now it's hard to shake that itch between the shoulder blades, of something dangerous and terrible waiting just at your back. A feeling unrelieved by having 360 radar senses.
Of course any relationship with Matt Murdock is doomed. If not because of the fact that he tends to attract obsessive, creepy enemies who take out their frustrations with him on his closest loved ones, than because Matt himself is a demanding and selfish person who can be overbearing and difficult to deal with, particularly in a bad mood. He doesn't compromise well. Really, they should consider themselves lucky they made it past the first month. But it's doomed for reasons that have nothing to do with their personalities, or the direct consequences of his actions. It's doomed because they don't belong here. It's doomed because either one of them could leave at any time, and either one of them could be replaced with some other version. He can't fix the Porter's unpredictability with his fists. It's not as though Matt was unaware; it's not even as though he hasn't been asked about it before. Hank put the question to him months ago.
(The first time Hank came back; Matt doesn't know if he should hope for there to be a second. His car, sitting in their garage, is an painful reminder, and Matt knows he's not going to do a damn thing but keep it. Just in case.)
Lil's too smart not to see it, too. Matt can't keep her in the dark. But he can keep her from noticing how much it's weighed on him lately, even as he throws himself headlong into visibility, potentially drawing all the wrong attention. Ignoring the weight of the universe and its cruel whims. Lying next to her in bed, their usual athletic activities for the evening concluded, he just waits for her to fall asleep so he can sneak out again. Take out all his frustrations on the streets. So they can get up tomorrow, and keep pretending there's not a shadow over their happiness that has nothing to do with what he does, or how he might have changed in his absence. ]