Chapter Text
"You don't understand." The boy said, a knife pressing against the throat of the man he was holding hostage. "You have no idea-"
"I do!" Daredevil said quickly. "I know exactly what you're going through. I know what it's like-"
"Liar!"
"Killing him won't bring your teacher back! You failed! Whatever criteria they wanted you failed out and he liked you enough not to kill you."
"It's not like rejection!" The boy snarled. "How would you know what I've been through? I had a purpose-"
"You were special. You were going to go be different. I know!" Daredevil snarled. "It happened to me! I was twelve and he left and I had no idea what I had done wrong. All I knew was that I wasn't good enough to be his soldier! So I tried to forget-"
"You-you weren't good enough?" The boy whispered.
"Yes, that. I trained and kept up in hopes that he would turn up again. That he'd realize I was good enough. But he never came back when I was that boy because I would never be it.
"I realize that's a good thing. I've seen what it does. You have hope. You have opportunity."
"I hurt these people."
"But you didn't kill them! And your circumstances would be considered by any decent DA and people.
"I don't want to hurt anyone." The boy whispered.
"Then don't, don't really hurt them. You were triggered into following your training. It's not okay but nothing that happened to you is okay." The boy surrendered.
"There you have it folks!" The anchorwoman said. "An exclusive video of the hostage situation two days ago that was diffused with Daredevil. What's your take on it, Bill?" She asked the man sitting next to her.
Brett turned off the television. He had read the reports but thought they had exaggerated but the video, the grainy footage hadn't lied. Daredevil had spoken with too much conviction and honesty to have it be a lie. At least from what he knew of him, the man had been raw.
He sighed.
A soldier.
That's what Daredevil had called himself. He wasn't good enough to be a solider.
At TWELVE.
Jesus Christ.
Jesus Fucking Christ.
Brett opened a beer and tried not to think at it. What was he doing at twelve? Playing with Foggy or more like against him but still. He wasn't being trained to be a soldier for someone. He wasn't deemed a loser.
"He liked you enough not to kill you." - or something like that. Daredevil, he had said that. What an odd statement. How did he know?
Was...was Daredevil still in contact with his teacher? Is that how he knew? Fucking fuck. That was fucked up. He shook it off. Now wasn't the time. He shouldn't let it affect him but he didn't think it couldn't.