Edited: 20/10/21

The two roommates were still staying at the formers friends apartment. It was annoying not being able to go home, but they accepted that it was for their own safety — even though it meant Blair was forced to work further to get to where ever she needed.

The ballerina held an apple in her hand, starting at it as the nurse stared at her. There was a calculator in her head, one that was constantly totalling every calorie that entered her body — the apple was no different. With that she was working out how much exercise would burn it off. She was truly ill, and she knew that.

"Come on, I don't want to see you in hospital again because you collapsed at dance, or at work or even at school." Claire told her, gently rubbing her other arm. The woman moved away to sneeze.

"Pills are on the side." Blair said, unable to bring herself to eat the other half of the apple. She went to bin the apple but Claire took it from her.

"What if I cut it up? Tiny pieces and we watch a film, you don't have to think about it then."

Blair rolled her eyes, sitting back down on the sofa, feeling guilty that Claire has to deal with her like this.

Claire took her pills before cutting up the apple and placing the bits in a bowl.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It worked long enough for Blair to finish her apple and got Claire to trick her into eating some other food as well as the two drinking vodka.

They were a laughing (somewhat a tipsy) mess, eating chocolate as they watched Twilight.

Blair Scott and Claire Temple couldn't help but laugh at how bad how wrong it was. Who in their right mind would love the person that watched them sleep? Had Edward ever considered that he couldn't hear Bella's thoughts because she had none? Had anyone realised that Edward was the vampire with the most boring back story? Why wasn't their books or films wrote about any of the other couples? Why did Bella and Carlisle have more chemistry in that one scene that Bella and Edward for the whole series?

Claire had her arms wrapped around Blair, whilst the ballerina laid with her head on the nurses chest. Over the years of living together and watching films together, the position was very common for them.

The duo had been fighting the urge to sleep as they watched cheesy romance films, mocking scenes and bobbing in and out of consciousness.

This wasn't a problems when a loud noise ensured they were both fully awake.

Paranoia ran over them. Claire rushed to the door, looking through the peephole whilst Blair grabbed her phone and searched for 'Mike's' number.

Claire leaned against the door, a sigh of relief left her mouth before she joined Blair on the sofa.

"No one there?"

"No crazy Russians."

Blair laughed lowly, relief washing over her as she turned her phone off.

The two began to clean up and get rid off the food packages they had finished and put away the things they hadn't.

The two tensed, there was a loud noise again, and this time Blair wasn't taking any risks. She knew that it wasn't a coincidence, it couldn't be.

A hand wrapped around each of them, covering their mouths.

Blair switched her phone on in her pocket and hoped she clicked call — after all the phone app should still be open and on his contact.

The two tried to keep up a fight, but it was no use as pretty soon they were overthrown and knocked out.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Blair had woken up on the cold ground perched up against a yellow vehicle. She didn't know where she was, but she was right to assume her phone was gone.

Hopefully 'Mike' got her call.

Blair tried to look for Claire, but couldn't see her. She hoped the woman was free or doing better then her.

Someone — her capture — grabbed her hair, turning her to face him before ripping the duct tape from her mouth. A loud sound of pain left her lips.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Blair had very little luck. At the moment her supposed luck was a bat coming at her. Left and right. Each swing brought agony and truth.

How could she lie when she knew as little as she could?

"You answer, he stops hitting you."

"I did answer." She told them in discomfort. She breathed heavily. There's no doubt that her ribs were a little screwed in this situation — where's 'Mike' when she needed him. "I answered about twenty times, just so happens that you are fucking dense."

The guy with the bat, passed the bat to the other guy, grabbed her by her hair and slammed her head into the yellow car.

Blair would love to say she was strong in this situation — but in reality she was totally bloody and crying. She was practically drowning in pain, not that anyone can blame her, she was being hit with a bat or forced to head a car.

"You'll dent the fake taxi." She chocked out, her head pounding. 

A fist met her face as the men tutted at her.

"Answer so you stop getting hit, and then everyone is happy." Bat man's buddy otherwise known as dense guy said.

"I don't know him." She said, spitting blood at bat man's shoes.

He kicked her, leaving for her body to curl up as she winked.

"Tell me his name."

"John Doe."

The two men watched with uncertainty as she smiled at them, blood spilling down her chin from her bloody lip.

"That's the name they use when someone's identity isn't known, especially common in coma patients with no identity, John Doe or Jane Doe, I'm not one to judge."

The man holding the bat gave the bat over to the 'bat man' who swung it at her.

"Do you get off on this?"

There was another swing.

"How about I beat you up, see if you can tell me information you don't know."

She was kicked in the rips.

"I don't need my ribs, not like they're vital to my survival."

The bat was swing.

"He never told me."

Kick.

"He didn't tell me, and I respect that."

Bat to her side.

And the cycle carrier on.

Truth was irrelevant, and a lack of the truth got her beat up.

"Vladimir told us not to kill them until they've talked." The 'nice' man stepped forward placing a hand on his buddy.

Blair was almost a hundred percent sure she'd be dead by the end of the next hour.

"Vladimir?" Blair tested the name, trying to seem strong despite the blood and tears. "I'm not sure if I like that name."

"This gives me no pleasure, it really doesn't." The man told her, watching as a bat hit her again. 

Blair scoffed. "Stop fucking swinging at me then." Blair said, shuffling to get more comfortable. Might as well get hurt whilst she was comfortable. "If it isn't pleasing you, fuck off."

"But I have been given a job to do."

"Didn't ask." Blair mumbled.

Kick to her chest. That hurt.

The poor ballerina was bloody, and bruised.

"So please, answer the questions that I was told to ask. Or I will begin breaking you, a piece at a time."

"Sorry, I think I missed the part where you weren't already breaking me"

Her head was slammed against the car.

Blair started listing the names of the bones in the hands, a stupid attempt to make sure she didn't have a concussion. She was about eighty seven percent sure she didn't.

"Mikhail, check the breaker. Check the breaker! Mikhail? Mikhail!"

The lights switched off and Blair let out a thankful sigh, coughing as she did so. One of her men ditched to figure everything out. She could hear Claire let out a laugh.

"Up." Bat guy said, grabbing her by the hair.

Upon standing up she could see Claire.

Whimpers left her mouth, and adrenaline dissolved in her body. Her ribs, chest, face, stomach hurt horribly, She wanted to be comforted, she wanted someone to just hold her and remind her she's ok.

"Let them go."

He didn't change his voice much. Blair could tell it was 'Mike's' voice. He didn't change his voice, he should probably consider that before others notice the familiarity.

"I'm walking out of here." The two holders called out.

"No, you aren't."

"We're not playing with you, man. I'm walking out of here we'll blow their brains out!" Claire's man shouted, ragging the roommate around.

Blair felt a gun being placed to her head. As bad as it was she was kind of relieved, relieved that she could still feel her head not that some guy was going to shoot her. Though a dark part of her (the same part that didn't want to let go of her eating habits) wouldn't mind them shooting her, apart of her loved the idea of going to the underworld and being reunited with her mom. Or just stopping the pain all together.

"Put the guns down or I promise you both you'll never hold anything in your hands again."

Blair and Claire were dropped to the floor, both slowly made their way army crawling to each other, whilst the three men were fighting. The women ignored it.

The ripped their restraints of, helping each other when needed before they both leaned against a taxi.Blair reaches out and took Claire's hand, desperate to feel safe. She shuffled closer and out her arms around the roommate, reminding her that they were safe.

"You good?" Blair whispered, as they turned their heads to each other.

"Never better."

Blair would of laughed if her throat didn't hurt when she asked her question.

"You?" Claire asked.

"Not coming out of here with out some major issues." Blair tried to joke, painfully, letting out a whimper as she spoke. Not like she hasn't seen this kind of stuff since she was a kid.

Claire tightened her grip in woman's hand. "We're ok."

"No we're not."

They looked up at a familiar voice telling them it was ok. 'Mike' held his hands out and helped the two girls up. He pulled them both into a hug, comforting them, trying to be careful of their injuries. "I'm here, I've got you both." He reminded them.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Blair let out a hiss of pain whilst 'Mike' was trying to sort out her face.

Claire was in the bathroom, cleaning her own face, after telling 'Mike' she could do it and that Blair was in a worse state — which to be fair she was chocking on her own blood.

"You got pretty good hands for a blind guy."

"Used to patch up my dad."

"Guess he's blind vigilante senior." Blair spoke, flinching away as touched the cut on her lip.

"He was a boxer... took a lot of beatings."

"Father like son."

"Ow!" She clenched her toes. "Fuck me."

"I'm sorry." 'Mike' started. "You took quite the beating."

"It's fine. I'll be fine." She told him, as she cleaned her lip.

"I mean, I'm sorry for getting you into this. I never thought that I'd be putting anyone else at risk." 'Mike' said sincerely.

"Hey, listen, don't blame yourself." Blair placed a hand on his thigh before giving it a bit if a squeeze. "I'd do it again, it was for the right reasons. Plus you didn't ask Claire to pull you from that dumpster. You didn't ask me and Claire, mostly me, cause she actually goes to work, to stitch you up those few occasions."

"No, you both did it because you're good people. And you almost got killed because of me."

"Mike, honey. Am I alive?"

"Yeah."

"Then I'll get over it." She reassured him, lifting up her shirt to look at the bruises — she wasn't to sure she was ready to see them fully in the mirror.

"Blair." 'Mike' sighed softly.

She looked away from herself and at him, regretting how quickly she moved her head. Blair placed her hands on her sides of her head, shielding her eyes from the light.

"I'm just trying to make my city a better place, but it doesn't mean you should be getting hurt in the process." He told her. "But I think maybe it's a little more complicated than that now. Nothing's changing out there. No matter what I do, I'm just I'm making things worse."

Blair moved her hands from her face. She took his hands into hers. "Do you not hear the good people say? The amount of people you have saved is unbelievable. You walk to those people and tell them you're not helping and nothings changing, they will fucking laugh at you."

"And what about the people I've gotten hurt? What do I What do I tell them?"

"That they are dicks, and listen to me, and listen hard." Blair said, playing with his fingers. "Even the Avengers can't save everyone, even the police, even soldiers can't save everyone. People get hurt, you can't stop that completely, and you're gonna cause pain as well, but that doesn't mean you're bad. The fact that you feel guilt is proof of that, bad people don't feel guilt, good people do." She placed a kiss to one of his hands. "For every life you injured there's multiple who you've saved from a potentially bad future."

He didn't know how to respond, a soft smile on his face.

"Place your hand on my heart." Blair said, once he said some sort of thank you. His eyebrows creased at Blair's demand. She rolled her eyes and moved one of his hands from in front of her to her chest, letting him feel her beating heart. "What is it telling you?"

"That you're scared."

Blair blinked at him. "Yeah, I'm terrified. But I'm not alone because fear as the most natural human emotion there is. I'm almost the most scared I ever have been. I do not blame you and you shouldn't blame you." She told him, her voice gentle (or as gentle as it can be when it was raspy and breathy). "But you are something to Hells Kitchen, and maybe one of the only few with the power or motivation to save this place, Mike."

"Matthew." 'Mike' told her.

"No, I'm still Blair." The woman spoke, her face morphed in confusion.

"My name is Matthew Murdock." Matt said, a little amused at her confusion.

"Matthew." She repeated, a soft grin on her face. "I like it."