Edited: 19/12/21

Cassie Hastings would die for her best friend. With out a doubt — Blair could kill the whole word, but she would still back her and hype her up.

It's safe to say Cassie and Blair have a strong emotional connection and a traumatic past that they shared.

Cassie sat at a table as Blair brought coffee over — the ballerina was technically on shift, but that didn't matter. Her boss wouldn't be heart broken if they sat down for a few after all there were more then enough people working.

Cassie took ahold of her white chocolate mocha, tapping the pads of her fingers again the hot cup. "Go on, miss secretive, fill me in what you can."

Blair took Cassie's drink taking a sip before handing it back. "I told you on the phone."

"No you said, and I quote 'he and then no and I, well can't tell you, but then he no well we, I guess I, or was it us, what do you think I should do?' Tell me what any of that means."

Blair looked down at her hands, clasping them together before resting them on the wooden table. "Cassie, Mistress of knowing, how does none of that make sense, I think it made perfect sense."

Cassie kicked the her under table.

"Alright, abuse me then." Blair muttered. "Met this guy few weeks ago, we've spoke or seen each other basically everyday. We weren't dating but he kissed me and I think he called it off, but I had called it off kind off a little earlier— what ever it was."

Cassie took a hold of Blair's hands, gently kissing her knuckles. "Oh sweetheart. Do you need me to kill him? I will, I've done it before."

Blair shook her head, staring down at the table as her hands stayed in Cassie's. "It kind of feels like how I felt for Millie at the beginning."

Cassie's face dropped. She remembered the mess that Blair was when Millie coldly broke them up because she was fed up of the same group of people abusing them for being a lesbian passing couple. "Oh."

Blair nodded, avoiding looking at Cassie.

"You fall so quickly, and I'm scared you're gonna get hurt."

"I'm going to get hurt." Blair agreed, taking her hands away, she placed them in her lap, her nails digging into different parts of her skin — scratching and putting pressure into her fragile skin.

"I don't know how to help."

"I just need to talk, you and I. Even just speaking to you helps me clear my mind, helps me reason things out."

Cassie smiled lightly. "I love you."

"Yeah, you know I love you. How do you cope with that happened between you and JJ?"

"I talk shit Reyna, judge JJ when I can, I enjoy the friendship we had left and over time I got use to it. But we didn't break up twice in one day."

"You were cheated on, it's basically the same." Blair shrugged causally, looking up at her best friend. "We didn't break up, there technically wasn't anything, we kinda just kissed and then both called it off, but did we call it off, if there wasn't anything?" She mumbled to herself, before her eyes widened. "Am I a shit kisser?"

"You're a good kisser." Cassie told her. "I know it, you know it, Claire knows it."

Blair smiled at Cassie, nodding a little. "So are you to be fair. It's a shame you're straight."

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Blair was back at Harry's hours later. She was sat on the sofa, cross legged watching the news with her father beside her and a can of lemonade in her hand.

She looked at Harry. "Have you heard of the name Wilson Fisk?" It was a strange question. One she asked casually and calmly, except a response in the same manor.

Harry stopped, his head snapping towards her with a tense look in his eyes. A look that placed Blair on edge, one she was familiar with as a child. "Where have you heard that name?" He demanded loudly.

Blair swallowed. There was guilt in her head and heart — guilt from asking a simple question. She coward back, feet pressed to the door easy for a quick escape.

"I... I... erm... I over heard it in the streets."

Harry's anger radiated of him. "Don't talk about him."

Blair nodded, slowly. She pushed herself off the sofa (carefully because of her ribs), grabbed her laptop, phone and lemonade and made her way back to her room. A rush to get to where she felt safe.

She'd rather be isolated then with her angry dad. She knew (well hoped, he did abuse his power a lot especially when Mary Leeds was around) he wouldn't do anything, but she didn't like him being angry with her, he never got angry at her. Well, he did, but he didn't snap or shout or even demand things from her — not since she had grown up. Harry was always the 'good' dad. As good as an absent dad can be. As good as a controlling husband (to her mother) could be.

Was she meant to apologise? Gods, she sounded so privileged right now.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Blair was very easily affected by her father. She had witnessed him hurt and control her mother — she had been the victim to his words. 

Blair was so easily affected because she was one of his victims — maybe not to the same extremes as her mother, but a victim nonetheless.

She sat in the floor, head between her knees as she tried to breath. It freaked her out more and more that she was struggling to breath. Which inevitably caused her to panic more.

Her eyes screwed tightly shut, her legs moved from her head as she leaned her back against her wardrobe, hands pressed tightly over the skin.

A hand cautiously and carefully pressed against her shoulder, a familiar voice muttering a promise that it'll be ok.

Blair opened her eyes, seeing a man she had known for a few weeks crouching in front of her, his hand on her shoulder.

Mascara stained her face and she looked a mess. It was a good job he couldn't see, she had never been so glad his eyes didn't work.

Matt Murdock pulled of his mask and sat in front of Blair. "I was passing by, you're more important then what's out there."

Blair tried too concentrate on him instead of tightness of her throat or the nausea she was feeling. She tried to concentrate on his breathing instead of her hammering heart and pounding headache. She tried to concentrate on his still figure as she shook.

She took her hands from her ears, allowing her ears to cool down from how tight she held them. Blair put her hands out, taking Matt's in her own. It was a tight grip, but Matt said nothing.

He allowed her to do as she needed to calm down.

Matt wasn't a cure. No one could cure her, she was broken. But having him was something she could use to help her — he was a tool to mend her broken heart and make her feel alive once more. Maybe eventually, he'd be more then a change in heartbeat.

Matt could hear her heart thudding hard and quickly against her chest, he could feel her playing with his hands, accidentally scratching him or digging her nails in, not noticing what she was doing. Matthew wasn't going to stop her, on the off chance that it was help her.

He didn't need to talk, she knew what she was doing. Slowly, she managed to get her breath back, with hiccups along the way.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Matt had managed to coach a now very tired Blair into breathing. She was still shaking slightly, but she was calm and that's what was important.

She was sipping her lemonade (with a straw) whilst leaning into Matt's arms. His arms were wrapped around her waist. Her head was on his chest and his head was on top of hers.

Her breathing was slowly going back to normal and she was glad Matt had come back. Sure, she mostly did the work, but having him there to guide her or just as comfort was still good enough.

"How'd you find me?" Blair asked, placing down her empty can of lemonade before shuffling out of Matt's arms.

"I told you, Blair, you're more important than anything out there. I heard you, I was nearby and now I am here."

Blair looked at him as she stood up, detangling from his arms. "Thank you, for coming." Blair started before telling him he's an idiot and a dick.

A smug smirk graced his face, at her childish insult.

"Wow, it wasn't our last conversation."

"B—"

"Don't."

"I'm sorry."

Blair looked at him, her brows furrowed. She nodded once. "I'm sorry, also." She was stood by her bed, pulling her jumper off, before going through her dance bag for her spare shorts. "I'm gonna change, so, yeah." She mumbled as she unbuttoned her shirt.

She checked her stitches before pulling on the oversized jumper (she was sure this one was Claire's). She pulled off her leggings and slipped into her shorts, ignoring the fact that Matt was still in the room. She pulled some fluffy socks on to cover her feet before sitting on her bed. She felt very weird changing in front of him, but Blair assumed normal was no longer her thing.

"Join me." She said, patting her bed.

Matt got off the floor (for once not bleeding to death) and sat next to her. "Are you ok now?" He asked, taking Blair's hand.

"I'm better." Blair's breaths were steady enough, with the odd shake.

"What time is it?" Matt asked the girl.

"Like one in the morning. Will you stay? I don't want to be alone."

"As long as you need me."