Edited: 18/09/2023

Elizabeth Blair Scott wanted a day of from her mess of a life. In what world would someone think releasing Harry Scott would be a good idea? Her father was far from a nice man, he had an ungodly amount of crimes on his hands, worked for a very bad guy.

At half nine, Blair did not want to hear that her father was free. At half ten, Blair did not want to be found by anyone, much less Matt.

Dressed in black, the young woman had made her way to dark back alleys, where she hoped to find someone to hit or beat the living day lights out of. She never felt the need for violence, but fury flooded her veins, hatred clouded her head and misery ached in her soul.

Her knuckled were clenched white, covered in a thin layer of flaky dry blood. her leggings were slightly ripped at the knees, revealing grazes that covered them, much like the arms of her black top. she was surprised her red converse were surviving the fight.

Time no longer mattered. Everything in her body ached, she hated the world, she hated everything. Half ten soon become half twelve and the exhausted ballerina fought and fought. Her body turned and turned much like the hands of a clock. Her heart tried to shatter the walls of her ribs. Everything ached.

Alleys were a great place to find common crime, like knife fights and hopefully not a vigilante. The last thing she needed was Matt calling her out when he did the exact same on a larger scale. She could already hear his voice in her head telling her to go home and calm down. She did not need that, right now she needed to hit and kick.

Knives were a basic weapon. Something the untrained could take care off - a joke. Blair was trained, a very very long time ago, but nonetheless. A hit here, a kick there were more then enough to get the job done. And she was right.

But where the ballerina was, the devil was sure to follow. As a mans body hit the floor, Blair was able to focus on the burgundy man with his arms folded. "What are you doing?" The man was appalled, a scowl rested on his lips.

She stepped back a little, her lips quivering up. "Hi..."

The devil stepped forward, grabbed her arm, a little rougher then he intended and began to storm off. "What do you think you are doing?"

"You're hurting me."

The scowl wavered, his hand loosened. They stopped, his hand met the mask before he leaned against the wall. His head tilted, her heart shook, her breathing hitched and her body trembled. "Blair?"

Her knees met the floor, her shoulders raised and her arms wrapped around herself.

Matt found himself on the floor next to her wrapping his arm around her. Blair sobbed and she sobbed, her body trembled within his arms. "Oh, baby." He whispered, gently holding her head. "I'm sorry, I'll make sure he doesn't meet you." He promised. "Let's get you home."