Some. Certainly not all. I didn't have time to take in everything because it was all in the middle of chaos and then after you and after Fisk, I just tried to push forward so I didn't return to the tapes. He was in jail, you were put away and I thought that was going to be the last of us in each other's lives. I'm starting to worry a little about my apparent influence on people. Between you and the people who decided to put on masks, I'm not sure I'm doing a great job.
That's about the same thing, yeah. He didn't talk about whether those people could be reformed. Only that I need to be careful of them.
He was a good man, you know. That priest you killed. Certainly better than either one of us would ever be. Not that I expect any of that to matter or anything but it was a horrific thing to do and the cop was right about that. I think there can be differences between monsters and monstrous acts but I'm not always sure where you fall because, like you said, you're held on the leash by fear of consequences. And now that there are seemingly none, what happens?
You're a Catholic. You should know that saying: "Man makes plans. God laughs." Fisk was never going to be done with either of us after all that. And here we are.
I mean I'm attempting to find a way to do better than before, so clearly that influence is a good thing. At least in my case.
What was his name? The priest?
[It said something right there that Dex had never even bothered to learn the name of his victim in the church. Had hardly given him a second thought until he realized he really was a monster, killing someone innocent for no reason at all. And for what? He hadn't even completed the task Fisk had sent him there for in the first place. It had truly been a pointless death.]
I don't know. I'm making this up as I go along. All I'd been thinking about for a year was revenge on both the Fisks but that didn't go as planned either. I'm beginning to think whenever I have an idea in mind, I should start thinking of how many people are going to get hurt. I don't care about them but it always makes things worse for me in the end whenever I do what's going to bring me the most satisfaction in that moment.
I'm well aware of the phrase. I've used it a few times myself. I didn't see his turn as mayor coming. I was ready to be able to go up against the Kingpin. I wasn't ready for Mayor Fisk.
I'm just making the point that someone who is actually at peace, who doesn't do the things I have to do might be a better role model.
Father Lantom. He helped take care of me after my father died. Not that I expect you to care or anything, but you have a particularly nasty habit of attacking all of the people I care about.
I think that would be a good idea. To stop doing what you're doing and actually consider how many people are going to be collateral damage when you do it. Maybe it doesn't come from the most righteous place, given that you're incapable of it, but if it stops you, that seems like it's good enough.
How many times have you tried using the legal system against him? None of them have ever stuck.
I don't need a saint to follow. I need someone flawed, a little messy, not afraid of me, and who doesn't hesitate to call me on my bullshit.
I think I understand now. Just a little bit what killing him meant for you emotionally.
[Whatever shred of empathy that resided in Dex had risen to the surface. Dr. Mercer dying had torn Dex up immensely as a teenager, given how she'd practically raised him by that point. He'd had so much anger being helpless to do anything while the cancer slowly ate away at her body. He could only imagine what he would have felt like if someone had killed her right in front of him.]
Having someone kill you is an easy way out. At least you're no longer in pain. When you kill someone ELSE a person cares about, you hurt them in such a way they're going to keep on being hurt forever.
It's difficult to function in a society with so many restrictions. But I'm trying to get back to a point where I can. Sometimes I think that I was just born too late. Anytime before things got really civilized in the 19th century, I would have been fine being the way I am.
I'm aware of that, Dex. I don't need the reminder that the system failed and I didn't stick the landing. I just have to operate on the faith that the next time it'll be different.
I suppose I can understand that.
Respectfully, Dex? No, you don't understand. There was a time when he was the only person I could talk to about anything and he was one of the few people who knew my secrets and kept them and some of our last words were said in anger. That's something I have to live with for the rest of my life because of what you did.
That is such bullshit. It's not an easy way out. It's the end of possibility for someone's life, to do what you do. You rob them of the chance to make someone's life better or to find peace or to do any of the things that matter when it comes to living.
"So many restrictions" as if there aren't just the standard guardrails that all society has been expected to function on. The only difference is that in the 19th century, I would've had to cross the plains to hunt you down. I still would've done it.
You know what they call doing the same thing over and over again but expecting different results? Insanity.
[Given he'd tried to kill the Fisks twice now and failed, he didn't have much room to talk.]
You think I don't know what it's like to have someone I love who I could talk to about anything die in front of my eyes while I couldn't do anything to stop it? I do. More than you know. But I won't argue the point. I hurt you badly when I killed him and there's no changing that.
Even when you kill a bad person? That's how I kept myself in check for so long. I took evil out of the world instead of letting it continue on.
I'm sure you would have too. A blind sheriff sounds like a main character I'd see in a B-western. I would have made a fantastic gunslinger you must admit.
Different circumstances. Different charges. It's not the same thing every time, even if you profess to think that it is. The law can and does work and I have to believe that.
You did hurt me badly when you did that. You've got a habit of hurting me badly with the things that you do, in case you haven't noticed. We haven't even really broached the topic of the last thing you did.
You aren't the person who gets to judge if someone is bad or not, or if they are incapable of redemption or at least deserving of a different kind of punishment for what they did. You're not God.
Suppose you might've, but then the blind sheriff would've had to try to stop you. Seems like that's a theme.
Whatever my future plans are, killing him or them is not going to be part of that.
What's there to say about it, Dex? You took a job that you knew would involve killing an innocent and good person and you did it anyway with a fucking laugh. He was a better person than you'll ever be, better than I ever was and you just made that decision like it was nothing. I don't presume to think that you'll care when I tell you those things but what kind of monster murders someone who just spends his time helping people?
That removes all sense of agency from you. Last I checked, you were still a person capable of free will so don't try to sell me that one.
I'm not sure if I admire how unbreakable your morals are or want to throw something at your head for being so unbearably naïve.
[There it was again. That confirmation he was a monster, that small echo of the words that bounced around inside where he should have had a proper conscience; would have had it if he didn't possess the mental conditions he'd been struggling with for so long.]
That wasn't a good decision. Even if it seemed like the only one I had at the time. But even if I hadn't done, Vanessa would have found someone else to. She was never going to let him walk away alive.
I take responsibility for what I've done. No one has killed all those people but me. But as long as I had my job, at least I knew I was only killing people to deserved it, who were dangerous criminals or terrorists. Now, the only thing I've got is my own instincts and we both know how shot to shit those are.
You could try but you know I'd just end up catching it anyway so what's the point? I believe the things I believe and you're not going to be the thing that makes me question that again.
That's bullshit. You don't get to skirt blame just by saying someone else would have done it. If someone else took that job, I could've stopped it. That it was you, that it was your methods--that's what killed Foggy.
And what makes you think the police or the government ever know all of the answers or are always right? You can't just push off on the idea that they know everything and can give you perfectly clean orders either. At some point, you need to learn how to think about those things yourself and not just wait for the orders from on high.
Keep telling yourself that. That if it had been anyone else, your friend would still be alive. But when Vanessa Fisk wants someone dead, there's no stopping it.
I never hurt anyone who didn't deserve it while I still had a job to keep me in line and out of my own head. Do you know what it's like to live with the thoughts every day that tell you killing is the best and only solution for every problem? I had a life that kept me out of trouble until every last part of it was ruined.
Or you keep telling yourself that because it seems to absolve you of the responsibility of what you did if there was someone else waiting in the wings to do it for you.
Do you think I've never been tempted to kill someone? The only guardrails that will ever work are the ones you put around yourself because those are the only ones that can't be taken away by a job or circumstance. You also say 'ruined' like you didn't have a hand in your own destruction. You consistently use passive language in discussion of what you did or what happened and it's an attempt to deflect responsibility.
What do you want from me? An apology? I doubt I could give one that would satisfy you even if I was capable of giving one, which I'm not. True remorse isn't something I'm capable.
I know you have. Experienced that firsthand even. But you've got morals. The only thing that's ever kept me in line is rigid structures and someone to follow. I haven't had either of those in a long time now. I'm not sure I even know how to get it back.
I would fucking love an apology but I know I'm not going to get one. You'll have to answer for it someday, Dex, in this life or after.
I wasn't thinking clearly with you but there are plenty of times when I could have made other choices and not just with you. I have morals and I have a code. I don't really understand the ability to live without one, if I'm being honest.
If there is anything after this, I already know where I'm going. Which makes me hope there's nothing.
There's the reason neither of us are ever going to get anywhere with the other. Neither of us can really understand or figure out what's going on in the other person's head.
[Yes, they'd both been associated with Matt and that had led directly to their deaths, but Dex knows he also made his own decisions there. He could have walked away, could have stopped associating with either of the Fisks at either time, could have chosen a thousand other options other than the ones he did.]
You are annoyingly persistent in trying to find out the truth, you know that?
[But then he thinks of those that would still be alive if he hadn’t given into his worst self. Julie. Ray. The priest. All dead because of him and no one else simply because he kept lashing out and couldn’t stop. If ever Dex could feel bad about what he'd done, this would be the point. As it stands, he just knows those deaths didn't make him feel good the way it sometimes did when he killed other people. There was just a hollow feeling left over after those kills.]
I wouldn't expect that you had. You cause damage and that's something to consider if that's what you want to leave behind you or if you want to be better than that.
I never think much about those left behind after I kill. It's too easy for me to just move on without a second thought. There's only a few I still think about.
You don't try to think about them. You don't consider the idea that when you kill someone, that ripples beyond just that single person. It's frustrating how dismissive you are of the damage you do.
Try? There's no point in me trying, not when I can't miraculously make myself feel guilt about what I've done. I've given up trying to force myself to see something I'm physically incapable of.
For someone who is getting so invested in my fucking life, it's a little difficult for me to reckon with the idea that you have no interest in assessing the damage you've caused.
What do you want me to do then? Try to make amends? Balance out the scale? We both know there's nothing that makes up for taking a life. Not even saving another.
[Dex had left marks on his skin that wouldn't fade but that just didn't happen to be one of them. The serious scars, the one that criss-crossed his body, weren't anything from Dex at all and had come long before he had crashed violently into Matt Murdock's life. That had been a less complicated enemy to have; it hadn't ever devolved into whatever this had become. Something strange and a siren song of all of Matt's bad choices. At least with Dex, he felt something again. Even if it was some new measure of self loathing combined with the ease of vigorous sex and kisses that bit down instead of sought sweetness.]
Don't make promises you can't keep.
[He tilted his head to capture Dex's mouth in a bruising kiss in kind. Another of those times that he could feel instead of carry old numbness]
[Dex is distracted from thinking up a reply by Matt's mouth crashing into his own again. He reciprocates as well, biting at Matt's lips as he tastes him. There is nothing remotely sweet or soft about what they do. But it's enough. At least for right now, letting Dex make a bad decision that didn't totally blow up the remnants of whatever remained of his life.
One hand moves to Matt's pants, undoing the button and zipper there before he sticks his hand in, taking Matt's dick in his hand and starting to stroke him. Dex's talents with being good with his hands didn't extend just to throwing things.]
[It's probably better that conversation between them stops, such as it is. They never really seem to get anywhere when they talk anyway and he'd rather that Dex bite his lip and make it hurt instead of trying to have some kind of talk. He doesn't want this to be gentle or romantic and he never has, and never will. Being here at all with Dex is often as much about self flagellation as it is anything else. A way of burning himself with the worst of his choices and his mistakes and it doesn't seem like Dex is ever bothered by his motivations so he won't be either.
Dex is forward and Matt doesn't mind. He tangles his fingers in Dex's hair and uses the angle and his own strength to push him backwards until his back hits against a wall. Distracting as those talented fingers are, he's not looking for foreplay.]
[Dex feels a sharp twinge in his back for a moment when he ends up smacking against the wall. Matt's strong even when he's not trying to punch Dex in the face and that's actually kind of a turn on for him. If they end up leaving a few dents in the wall during this whole match, that's all the better for him.
He arches his head back a little bit when Matt's fingers dig into his hair with a small grunt of pleasure, reminiscent of when Matt had done the same thing when Dex had asked him to come see him in prison. Even then, Dex had wanted this exact situation to happen, turned on by the fearless nature the lawyer had in the face of someone who was a natural-born killer.
He quickly slides his own pants and underwear off. If Matt wants to get to the main event that badly, so much the better.]
[Matt figures that Dex can take a little bit of a love-tap against the wall when they collide against it. He has a perfect understanding of where everything is in the room so it was a good enough space to be shoved against without anything to dig into his spine. There doesn't ever seem like there would be the possibility for anything slow, sweet or gentle with them and he will never seek it out. Not with Dex. He wants it to hurt. Needs it to. If he wanted to feel anything other than the sizzle of of his nerves, it'd be someone else that he'd be kissing recklessly in his apartment.
He tugs at Dex's hair again, enough to sting and so he can smell the salt of watered eyes, and then he lets go long enough to strip off the rest of his clothes. There's a bruise on his hip that he wears that mingles scars but he knows Dex well enough to know it won't be a turn-off. He pushes Dex back against the wall again when there is nothing between them and kisses sharply, harshly.]
[There's a pained hiss from Dex as Matt tugs on his hair again. He enjoys being hurt in this very particular way, letting it block out everything else inside of him that's always in turmoil. One of his hands is gripping Matt's right arm, nails digging there into the skin. When Matt breaks off the kiss again, Dex smiles, though it's more of a show of bared teeth than anything else.]
You can certainly try.
[And will probably succeed. Dex certainly doesn't have willpower that strong in the heat of the moment.
He cranes his head to the side and bites down on Matt's shoulder hard. He's determined to leave more than a few marks on Matt so that he'll be reminded of him for days afterwards. He wants to be in the man's thoughts as much as he possibly can be.]
[Matt hisses through the sharp immediate pain of the bite on his shoulder that will leave a bruise that he might not be able to see but he'll sure as hell feel when he moves his arm. He knows that's the point. He shoves Dex back, using more force than he would ever dare with anyone else to push him back again. His fingers dig into Dex's hips, hard enough so that there will be little crescents of his fingernails left in the wake. He leans in and brushes his lips against Dex's, soft and almost sweet except for what it is and what it means. A teasing. A push and pull.]
[Dex can feel those fingers that had been curled into a fist and socking him on the jaw so many times before this digging into his hips now. There's a shuddering breath from him at feeling Matt's lips on his and he licks them for a moment, eyes roving over Matt's body and then looking into that unfocused gaze. He fights against his feelings for a moment before speaking, his voice rough with lust.]
I want you to fuck me. To make me forget about everything else but you.
[Matt's hands learned Dex by fists and violence long before they fell into this and maybe it has made him a better, more effective lover. A strange thing to consider while they're kissing and the touch is a push and pull of lust.]
I'm not convinced that you need me to forget everything.
[It's not a no. Just an observation. Dex doesn't carry things the way Matt does. All the same, he pulls them back from the wall and toward the bed and expensive silk sheets]
[Still, Dex allows himself to be pulled toward that rather comfortable bed with its soft sheets. When he feels the edges of the bed up against his legs, he leans back onto it with a hand curled around Matt's neck to pull him towards Dex's body.
He pushes himself up, kissing Matt with that harsh, nearly desperate air that he knows is what the other man wants out of him. This made him feel alive in a way that nothing else did.]
[Dex doesn't carry tragedy and remorse the way that Matt does. Or the same kind of self loathing, for that matter. He's not sure what he gets from this since it's not the same as what Matt receives when fingers tug at hair and skin and leave bruising in their wake. He kisses Dex fiercely once they're down on the mattress and rolls them with the a fighter's ease so Dex is below him and Matt has control. That's what Dex seems to want, isn't it? So fuck it, he'll lose the last of his self respect all over again and give it to him.]
[What is Dex getting out of this? Even he’s not entirely sure. But he does know that he’s always desperate in his life to have connections he’s never quite sure how to form. But what he does know is that Matt is willing to let him stick around, even if it’s just because the sex is good. That’s more than anyone else around him is willing to do and so Dex keeps coming back like some sad, stray, and murder-inclined puppy.
He struggles a little when Matt pins him so easily but there’s no way he’s going to be able to escape that grasp. Eventually, he surrenders control to let Matt do what he wants. As for Dex, he digs in hard with his nails and bites at Matt’s skin with his teeth, wanting to leave his mark on the vigilante and give him something to remember him by.]
[He's not holding Dex so hard or so squarely that he wouldn't be able to end this if he chose to, but he has a feeling that it's the chance at surrender that Dex seems to want. Matt can give him that. He knows what Dex is doing with the bite and he draws his neck back, denying him that after he's already left a mark so he can't darken it further. If he wants to play games? They can play.
Matt lets go long enough to reach for Dex's hips, digging his fingers in.]
Tell me exactly what you want.
[He knows. He just wants to hear it again. Maybe something a little closer to begging]
[There's a certain sense of giving up control here that Dex both wants and yet pushes against, unused to it as he is. But he knows that Matt can give it to him in a way no one else can. There's a low hiss through his teeth as Matt pulls his neck away and his fingers dig into his hips. He rolls them upwards a little, pausing for a long moment before answering.]
[Matt is typically more at home with an easy surrender himself in moments like these but right now, he wants to take that from Dex instead. He smirks at the answer and the way that he hears the utter need in the other man's voice. He presses his hands to his hips again to guide him onto his hands and knees. Foreplay is out the window and he thinks they both know that.]
[He hisses, shaking his head in a stubborn manner as he gets on his hands and knees. But he will if that's what Matt really wants because he's not here to feel good about himself. He wants Matt to hate him, to really feel that.]
[The righteous indignation from Dex just makes him smirk as he leans forward to say it clearly in Dex's ear.]
Yeah, you will. Just wait.
[To punctuate the statement all the more, he digs his fingers into Dex's hips, hard enough to leave crescent moons of his nails. Then he presses his hand to the small of Dex's back to force his body forward and down. He's not a complete asshole so he does go for the nightstand to grab lube. But knowing now what Dex wants, everything is going to be a slow tease. He's not interested in giving in. Not yet.]
[There's a sound that's a combination of a moan and groan as he feels Matt's fingers dig into his hips.]
Enngh--
[He resists, still stubborn, as Matt forces his body downwards. He glances when he feels his step away for a moment and head to get something. It makes Dex feel twitchy, this anticipation without the actual sense of being fulfilled, a need that hasn't yet been met.]
Any day now.
[He says testily before realizing that's probably the wrong thing to say, that it will only make Matt draw things out between them longer.]
[There could not have been a worse thing for Dex to say. Not that he needs the verbal confirmation about just how much he's getting to the other man; he can feel it in tightening muscles and the way that his heartbeat increases and breath catches when Matt does just the right things.
That was foolish and Matt lets him know with only the slowest teasing of his fingers that will do little to fulfill that needy ache that Dex seems to be desperate to fill. Digits push in and out but it's at a glacial pace and even if Dex can't see him, he can probably hear the smile in Matt's voice.]
[His breathing becomes more erratic and torn up, ragged as his body yearns for what he knows only Matt can give. The fingers of his hands tighten up as his fingernails dig into the materials beneath them.]
......
[Dex remains stubbornly silent, fuming over how Matt is teasing this out, yet knowing that this is exactly what he came here for. If this wasn't what he wanted, he would have never asked Matt if he could have come over to begin with.]
[Dex's stubbornness is predictable, of course. He knows exactly what kind of man he's dealing with here and that means that he just has to make it more difficult for him. Teasing fingers continue while Matt's other hand snakes around Dex's hip to tease his cock with a deft, soft touch. Not enough to get him anywhere close to where he wants to be; all the more teasing, just to push him to the edge of desperation.]
[Matt knows exactly what he's doing to Dex and it's driving him crazy. He bites down on his lower lip as he feels Matt teasing his cock without actually giving him what he wants. His whole body is tense with the sensation of being pushed closer and closer to the edge without any actual relief.]
......Please.
[He finally gasps out, hating himself for giving in and pleading while also knowing at the same time he can't stand much more of the slow torture that Matt is putting him through.]
[He's smug when he says it, because he feels that he has earned the right to be. And for about five seconds, he doesn't change his touch or pace just to give Dex one more taste of what it's like to be teased before he lets go, pulls back enough to press his hands tightly on Dex's hips hard enough to leave crescent nail marks on his skin before pushing roughly inside. Just how he knows Dex wants it. The pace changes in a heartbeat. Slow teasing is discarded for hard and fast, the slapping of skin on skin and a pounding roughness.]
[For a moment, Dex is pissed Matt made him beg and yet still doesn't seem to be feeling charitable enough to get him off. Then he finally feels Matt enter inside of him. His breath grows short and ragged almost immediately as the sensation of Matt fucking him grows hard and rough.]
Took you....fucking long enough....
[He growls out in-between his panting, turning his head just a little so he can see Matt more clearly.]
[The question comes between ragged gasps as he moves fast and roughly because that's what was demanded of him. Never let it be said that Matt Murdock doesn't deliver when it counts. He lets go of Dex's hips for a moment long enough to push Dex's shoulder down to push his face to the mattress. It leaves Matt in complete control of every movement with Dex prone and left to Matt's own whims.]
[Enraged, Dex struggles as he tries to get back up, but considering the vulnerable position he's in there's not much he can ultimately do with Matt pinning him to the mattress. He mumbles something into the soft material beneath him that is full of curses and insults directed in Matt's direction. What's easiest to hear though is when he turns his head to the side and growls out:]
Don't you dare.
[His body writhes a little beneath Matt as he thrusts roughly again, Dex feeling the sensation running all the way through him.]
[Matt hears every muffled and mumbled word perfectly and he just grins at the way that he's got Dex coming apart. Still, he's not quite looking for a 'threat' to be the response and he feels that he needs to teach Dex a lesson. His hands move back to his hips and he slows, almost to a stop, still buried inside but now without that delicious friction.]
I dare. You should ask nicely. Not curse me under your breath. You gotta know I can hear that, right? Come on. Get your head in the game. Say please.
[Matt knows exactly what to do to get Dex to behave. Feeling him come to almost to a stop causes a very different sort of tension to rise up in Dex, one that doesn't contain any of the pleasure he was experiencing moments before. He's got his pride, which causes him to go stubbornly silent for a few moments, but more than that is the senses of want and need that make him feel an ache deep inside that he knows only Matt can fulfill.
Finally, he relents to Matt's demands, voice quiet and with an admonished tone knowing that he's doing exactly what Matt wants.]
[Dex is easy to read in the way that he tries to hold back for the sake of his pride but Matt knows he won't hold out. He can feel the tension in his muscles tightening like a knot right until he finally says the words and Matt allows him to release again. He tightens his fingers on Dex's hips and adjusts the angle just enough so that he can fuck him with reckless abandon. He got what he wanted and Dex will have to stew in that fact later. Matt's not a particularly cruel person, of course. He'll give Dex everything he needs, now that he's gotten what he wants.]
[After they're done here it is entirely possible that Dex is going to try to murder Matt even while still naked for being able to manipulate Dex into doing just what he wants. As Matt thrusts into him, he slides a hand down so that he can jerk himself off. It doesn't take all that long before he comes into his hand, wiping it off on Matt's sheets. The rumors of Matt's sexual prowess are indeed proven to be correct.]
[Matt keeps going for just a little while longer, dragging the last responses out of Dex that his now exploding nerves will allow before he follows shortly after. When he finishes, he loosens his grip on Dex's hip and rolls to his side and onto his back to catch his breath. The sheets are a mess but for a little while, everything in the world and in his head feels quiet. That's the moment that he's so often chasing, even if he finds it occasionally with Dex of all people.]
[Dex lies there for a few minutes, regaining his senses and cooling off after such a hot and heavy session. It's nice not to be able to think and let the darkness creep back in after such a rough round of sex. Eventually, he picks himself back up, and puts on his clothes. He leaves without a word. Matt knows where to get in contact with him if he wants this to happen again. Deep down, Dex hopes that he will. Hatefucking is as good as anything else for getting his emotions out.]
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no subject
Some. Certainly not all. I didn't have time to take in everything because it was all in the middle of chaos and then after you and after Fisk, I just tried to push forward so I didn't return to the tapes. He was in jail, you were put away and I thought that was going to be the last of us in each other's lives. I'm starting to worry a little about my apparent influence on people. Between you and the people who decided to put on masks, I'm not sure I'm doing a great job.
That's about the same thing, yeah. He didn't talk about whether those people could be reformed. Only that I need to be careful of them.
He was a good man, you know. That priest you killed. Certainly better than either one of us would ever be. Not that I expect any of that to matter or anything but it was a horrific thing to do and the cop was right about that. I think there can be differences between monsters and monstrous acts but I'm not always sure where you fall because, like you said, you're held on the leash by fear of consequences. And now that there are seemingly none, what happens?
no subject
I mean I'm attempting to find a way to do better than before, so clearly that influence is a good thing. At least in my case.
What was his name? The priest?
[It said something right there that Dex had never even bothered to learn the name of his victim in the church. Had hardly given him a second thought until he realized he really was a monster, killing someone innocent for no reason at all. And for what? He hadn't even completed the task Fisk had sent him there for in the first place. It had truly been a pointless death.]
I don't know. I'm making this up as I go along. All I'd been thinking about for a year was revenge on both the Fisks but that didn't go as planned either. I'm beginning to think whenever I have an idea in mind, I should start thinking of how many people are going to get hurt. I don't care about them but it always makes things worse for me in the end whenever I do what's going to bring me the most satisfaction in that moment.
no subject
I'm just making the point that someone who is actually at peace, who doesn't do the things I have to do might be a better role model.
Father Lantom. He helped take care of me after my father died. Not that I expect you to care or anything, but you have a particularly nasty habit of attacking all of the people I care about.
I think that would be a good idea. To stop doing what you're doing and actually consider how many people are going to be collateral damage when you do it. Maybe it doesn't come from the most righteous place, given that you're incapable of it, but if it stops you, that seems like it's good enough.
no subject
I don't need a saint to follow. I need someone flawed, a little messy, not afraid of me, and who doesn't hesitate to call me on my bullshit.
I think I understand now. Just a little bit what killing him meant for you emotionally.
[Whatever shred of empathy that resided in Dex had risen to the surface. Dr. Mercer dying had torn Dex up immensely as a teenager, given how she'd practically raised him by that point. He'd had so much anger being helpless to do anything while the cancer slowly ate away at her body. He could only imagine what he would have felt like if someone had killed her right in front of him.]
Having someone kill you is an easy way out. At least you're no longer in pain. When you kill someone ELSE a person cares about, you hurt them in such a way they're going to keep on being hurt forever.
It's difficult to function in a society with so many restrictions. But I'm trying to get back to a point where I can. Sometimes I think that I was just born too late. Anytime before things got really civilized in the 19th century, I would have been fine being the way I am.
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I suppose I can understand that.
Respectfully, Dex? No, you don't understand. There was a time when he was the only person I could talk to about anything and he was one of the few people who knew my secrets and kept them and some of our last words were said in anger. That's something I have to live with for the rest of my life because of what you did.
That is such bullshit. It's not an easy way out. It's the end of possibility for someone's life, to do what you do. You rob them of the chance to make someone's life better or to find peace or to do any of the things that matter when it comes to living.
"So many restrictions" as if there aren't just the standard guardrails that all society has been expected to function on. The only difference is that in the 19th century, I would've had to cross the plains to hunt you down. I still would've done it.
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[Given he'd tried to kill the Fisks twice now and failed, he didn't have much room to talk.]
You think I don't know what it's like to have someone I love who I could talk to about anything die in front of my eyes while I couldn't do anything to stop it? I do. More than you know. But I won't argue the point. I hurt you badly when I killed him and there's no changing that.
Even when you kill a bad person? That's how I kept myself in check for so long. I took evil out of the world instead of letting it continue on.
I'm sure you would have too. A blind sheriff sounds like a main character I'd see in a B-western. I would have made a fantastic gunslinger you must admit.
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You did hurt me badly when you did that. You've got a habit of hurting me badly with the things that you do, in case you haven't noticed. We haven't even really broached the topic of the last thing you did.
You aren't the person who gets to judge if someone is bad or not, or if they are incapable of redemption or at least deserving of a different kind of punishment for what they did. You're not God.
Suppose you might've, but then the blind sheriff would've had to try to stop you. Seems like that's a theme.
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I was wondering when you'd get around wanting to talk about that. So let's get to it.
I didn't ever need to make those decisions before. I just did what I was told and hoped that was the right thing.
It does seem like you'd be involved with the law no matter when or where you are.
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What's there to say about it, Dex? You took a job that you knew would involve killing an innocent and good person and you did it anyway with a fucking laugh. He was a better person than you'll ever be, better than I ever was and you just made that decision like it was nothing. I don't presume to think that you'll care when I tell you those things but what kind of monster murders someone who just spends his time helping people?
That removes all sense of agency from you. Last I checked, you were still a person capable of free will so don't try to sell me that one.
Most likely. Law is what I'm good at.
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[There it was again. That confirmation he was a monster, that small echo of the words that bounced around inside where he should have had a proper conscience; would have had it if he didn't possess the mental conditions he'd been struggling with for so long.]
That wasn't a good decision. Even if it seemed like the only one I had at the time. But even if I hadn't done, Vanessa would have found someone else to. She was never going to let him walk away alive.
I take responsibility for what I've done. No one has killed all those people but me. But as long as I had my job, at least I knew I was only killing people to deserved it, who were dangerous criminals or terrorists. Now, the only thing I've got is my own instincts and we both know how shot to shit those are.
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That's bullshit. You don't get to skirt blame just by saying someone else would have done it. If someone else took that job, I could've stopped it. That it was you, that it was your methods--that's what killed Foggy.
And what makes you think the police or the government ever know all of the answers or are always right? You can't just push off on the idea that they know everything and can give you perfectly clean orders either. At some point, you need to learn how to think about those things yourself and not just wait for the orders from on high.
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I never hurt anyone who didn't deserve it while I still had a job to keep me in line and out of my own head. Do you know what it's like to live with the thoughts every day that tell you killing is the best and only solution for every problem? I had a life that kept me out of trouble until every last part of it was ruined.
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Do you think I've never been tempted to kill someone? The only guardrails that will ever work are the ones you put around yourself because those are the only ones that can't be taken away by a job or circumstance. You also say 'ruined' like you didn't have a hand in your own destruction. You consistently use passive language in discussion of what you did or what happened and it's an attempt to deflect responsibility.
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I know you have. Experienced that firsthand even. But you've got morals. The only thing that's ever kept me in line is rigid structures and someone to follow. I haven't had either of those in a long time now. I'm not sure I even know how to get it back.
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I wasn't thinking clearly with you but there are plenty of times when I could have made other choices and not just with you. I have morals and I have a code. I don't really understand the ability to live without one, if I'm being honest.
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There's the reason neither of us are ever going to get anywhere with the other. Neither of us can really understand or figure out what's going on in the other person's head.
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No, clearly not. I'm never going to understand.
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I find it interesting how you think though. From an objective point of view.
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I'm not sure you're capable of being objective when it comes to me.
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Why? You think my emotions keep getting in the way of things?
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You don't think they are?
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No. They're not.
[Lies.]
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Well, that's some bullshit and you know it.
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[Yes, they'd both been associated with Matt and that had led directly to their deaths, but Dex knows he also made his own decisions there. He could have walked away, could have stopped associating with either of the Fisks at either time, could have chosen a thousand other options other than the ones he did.]
You are annoyingly persistent in trying to find out the truth, you know that?
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The truth is important. It's the crux of law, even if you don't believe in it, so maybe that's my particular fascination.
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I was always more interested in the enforcement side of law and order. The truth has never interested me all that much.
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Of course you were. Nothing about that surprises me in the slightest, even if maybe you should've cared about it.
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My time was spent trying pass off as a barely functional person on a day-to-day basis while finding some sort of personal satisfaction in what I did.
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And how did all of that work out for you, Dex?
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I was fine for fifteen years, thank you very much.
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And where are you now?
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Drowning in deep water with no way to get back to the surface.
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That's the thing about drowning, Dex. You get so desperate for something to hold onto that you'll pull someone else down with you.
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[But then he thinks of those that would still be alive if he hadn’t given into his worst self. Julie. Ray. The priest. All dead because of him and no one else simply because he kept lashing out and couldn’t stop. If ever Dex could feel bad about what he'd done, this would be the point. As it stands, he just knows those deaths didn't make him feel good the way it sometimes did when he killed other people. There was just a hollow feeling left over after those kills.]
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[Dex had left marks on his skin that wouldn't fade but that just didn't happen to be one of them. The serious scars, the one that criss-crossed his body, weren't anything from Dex at all and had come long before he had crashed violently into Matt Murdock's life. That had been a less complicated enemy to have; it hadn't ever devolved into whatever this had become. Something strange and a siren song of all of Matt's bad choices. At least with Dex, he felt something again. Even if it was some new measure of self loathing combined with the ease of vigorous sex and kisses that bit down instead of sought sweetness.]
Don't make promises you can't keep.
[He tilted his head to capture Dex's mouth in a bruising kiss in kind. Another of those times that he could feel instead of carry old numbness]
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One hand moves to Matt's pants, undoing the button and zipper there before he sticks his hand in, taking Matt's dick in his hand and starting to stroke him. Dex's talents with being good with his hands didn't extend just to throwing things.]
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Dex is forward and Matt doesn't mind. He tangles his fingers in Dex's hair and uses the angle and his own strength to push him backwards until his back hits against a wall. Distracting as those talented fingers are, he's not looking for foreplay.]
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He arches his head back a little bit when Matt's fingers dig into his hair with a small grunt of pleasure, reminiscent of when Matt had done the same thing when Dex had asked him to come see him in prison. Even then, Dex had wanted this exact situation to happen, turned on by the fearless nature the lawyer had in the face of someone who was a natural-born killer.
He quickly slides his own pants and underwear off. If Matt wants to get to the main event that badly, so much the better.]
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He tugs at Dex's hair again, enough to sting and so he can smell the salt of watered eyes, and then he lets go long enough to strip off the rest of his clothes. There's a bruise on his hip that he wears that mingles scars but he knows Dex well enough to know it won't be a turn-off. He pushes Dex back against the wall again when there is nothing between them and kisses sharply, harshly.]
I should make you beg to fuck me.
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You can certainly try.
[And will probably succeed. Dex certainly doesn't have willpower that strong in the heat of the moment.
He cranes his head to the side and bites down on Matt's shoulder hard. He's determined to leave more than a few marks on Matt so that he'll be reminded of him for days afterwards. He wants to be in the man's thoughts as much as he possibly can be.]
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Tell me what you want, Dex.
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I want you to fuck me. To make me forget about everything else but you.
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I'm not convinced that you need me to forget everything.
[It's not a no. Just an observation. Dex doesn't carry things the way Matt does. All the same, he pulls them back from the wall and toward the bed and expensive silk sheets]
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[Still, Dex allows himself to be pulled toward that rather comfortable bed with its soft sheets. When he feels the edges of the bed up against his legs, he leans back onto it with a hand curled around Matt's neck to pull him towards Dex's body.
He pushes himself up, kissing Matt with that harsh, nearly desperate air that he knows is what the other man wants out of him. This made him feel alive in a way that nothing else did.]
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He struggles a little when Matt pins him so easily but there’s no way he’s going to be able to escape that grasp. Eventually, he surrenders control to let Matt do what he wants. As for Dex, he digs in hard with his nails and bites at Matt’s skin with his teeth, wanting to leave his mark on the vigilante and give him something to remember him by.]
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Matt lets go long enough to reach for Dex's hips, digging his fingers in.]
Tell me exactly what you want.
[He knows. He just wants to hear it again. Maybe something a little closer to begging]
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Fuck me hard.
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Should make you beg for it.
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[He hisses, shaking his head in a stubborn manner as he gets on his hands and knees. But he will if that's what Matt really wants because he's not here to feel good about himself. He wants Matt to hate him, to really feel that.]
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Yeah, you will. Just wait.
[To punctuate the statement all the more, he digs his fingers into Dex's hips, hard enough to leave crescent moons of his nails. Then he presses his hand to the small of Dex's back to force his body forward and down. He's not a complete asshole so he does go for the nightstand to grab lube. But knowing now what Dex wants, everything is going to be a slow tease. He's not interested in giving in. Not yet.]
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Enngh--
[He resists, still stubborn, as Matt forces his body downwards. He glances when he feels his step away for a moment and head to get something. It makes Dex feel twitchy, this anticipation without the actual sense of being fulfilled, a need that hasn't yet been met.]
Any day now.
[He says testily before realizing that's probably the wrong thing to say, that it will only make Matt draw things out between them longer.]
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That was foolish and Matt lets him know with only the slowest teasing of his fingers that will do little to fulfill that needy ache that Dex seems to be desperate to fill. Digits push in and out but it's at a glacial pace and even if Dex can't see him, he can probably hear the smile in Matt's voice.]
Anything you'd like to say?
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......
[Dex remains stubbornly silent, fuming over how Matt is teasing this out, yet knowing that this is exactly what he came here for. If this wasn't what he wanted, he would have never asked Matt if he could have come over to begin with.]
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How about now?
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......Please.
[He finally gasps out, hating himself for giving in and pleading while also knowing at the same time he can't stand much more of the slow torture that Matt is putting him through.]
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[He's smug when he says it, because he feels that he has earned the right to be. And for about five seconds, he doesn't change his touch or pace just to give Dex one more taste of what it's like to be teased before he lets go, pulls back enough to press his hands tightly on Dex's hips hard enough to leave crescent nail marks on his skin before pushing roughly inside. Just how he knows Dex wants it. The pace changes in a heartbeat. Slow teasing is discarded for hard and fast, the slapping of skin on skin and a pounding roughness.]
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Took you....fucking long enough....
[He growls out in-between his panting, turning his head just a little so he can see Matt more clearly.]
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[The question comes between ragged gasps as he moves fast and roughly because that's what was demanded of him. Never let it be said that Matt Murdock doesn't deliver when it counts. He lets go of Dex's hips for a moment long enough to push Dex's shoulder down to push his face to the mattress. It leaves Matt in complete control of every movement with Dex prone and left to Matt's own whims.]
If you're gonna complain, maybe I should stop?
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Don't you dare.
[His body writhes a little beneath Matt as he thrusts roughly again, Dex feeling the sensation running all the way through him.]
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I dare. You should ask nicely. Not curse me under your breath. You gotta know I can hear that, right? Come on. Get your head in the game. Say please.
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Finally, he relents to Matt's demands, voice quiet and with an admonished tone knowing that he's doing exactly what Matt wants.]
.....Please. Don't stop.
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