Title: Crossroads of Life
Author: MitchPell
Disclaimer: I don't own anything that has to do with TheX-Men or Daredevil, their characters, Marvel comics, or the anything elsethat's related.
Author Notes: My many thanks to BleuUnicorn for taking thetime to give me all of the wonderful insight into the world of the visuallyimpaired. Also, thanks to Adri, Kuria, and Ellidyay for beta reading,providing excellent comments, and giving me a ton of wonderful ideas. Thisfanfic takes place in the movieverse of both Daredevil and X-Men. However, thenovelizations of the movies were not taken into consideration.
Summary: Two unique teenagers traveling on different pathsmeet at the crossroads of life and discover a common destiny.
Email: mitchpell@yahoo.com
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Matt groaned as he pulled his covers up over his head in anattempt to drown out the sounds that assaulted his sensitive ears. It wasalways like this in the mornings, when he was still half asleep and couldn'tshut out all the noise. It was as if someone was taking a hammer to thishead. Unfortunately the thin material did little to quiet the bombardment andMatt threw back the covers and crawled out of bed. He rubbed the sleep fromhis eyes before stumbling out of the room and down to the bathroom.
After relieving himself, he washed his hands and face thenmade his way to the kitchen. By now, he had managed to quiet the noises aroundhim to the point where it was still loud but no longer pounding in his head.He sat down at the kitchen table, not quite sure what to do with himself. Ifhe'd been at home, he would have fixed himself some breakfast and then headed outthe door. But this wasn't his house, and he didn't feel comfortable rootingthrough their cupboards. So, he just sat there hoping that one of the Millerswould wake up soon, preferably Frank or Zack.
Eventually, he couldn't stand it anymore. He got up fromthe table, went back to his bedroom, grabbed a pair of clean clothes, then madehis way back to the bathroom. He figured that he could at least take a shower,while he was waiting for someone else to get out of bed.
He easily found a clean towel and washcloth in the closetFrank had showed him the previous day. The smell of soap and shampoo alreadyradiated from the shower, so he pulled the shower curtain closed then turnedone of the two nozzles. He let the water run for a while, before placing hishand underneath the running water. Matt gasped in pain and jerked back hishand when the hot water burned him. "Well, at least now I know which one'shot," he muttered as he turned down the hot water and turned up the cold.
He took his time showering, savoring the feel of the warmwater running over him. He wasn't sure how long he was in there, but it musthave been longer than he thought. The next thing he knew there was a quickknock on the door, which was followed by Suzan's voice telling him that heneeded to hurry up because she needed to get in the bathroom so she could getready for work.
Matt immediately shut off the water and climbed out of theshower as he called out an apology. He quickly dried off and got dressedbefore slipping out of the room. "Sorry," he told Suzan as he passed her inthe hall away.
"It's alright," Suzan assured him as she hurried into thebathroom, though she sounded irritated.
Matt sighed in defeat. He'd been hoping that things wouldgo a little smoother between him and Suzan, but it didn't seem as if that wasgoing to be the case. Frustrated, he made his way to the kitchen, where hecould hear Frank and Zack talking over the clatter of silverware.
"Morning, Matt," Frank greeted.
"Good morning," Matt replied as he sat down in the samechair he'd used last night. The clank of a spoon hitting a bowl and an almostcontinuous slurping, plus the smell of milk and chocolate told him that Zackwas eating cereal. Possibly Coco Puffs or Coco Pebbles. The room also wasfilled with the strong smell of coffee, toasting bread, butter, and strawberryjelly. He could hear the hum of what he guessed was the toaster and therumbling of the coffee machine, both loud in his ear. His heightened sensesamplified everything, making it seem as if he were in a crowded restaurantrather than the barely occupied kitchen. He was so in-tuned with the faint dinof the room that he became completely unaware of anything else, until a largehand clamped down on his shoulder.
"Matt?" Frank asked, concerned. "You alright?"
Matt nearly jumped he was so startled. "Sorry, I guess Ikind of zoned out."
"As long as everything's ok," Frank said.
"Yeah, I'm good."
"Well then, have you eaten yet?" Frank asked, his voicefading as he moved across the room to the toaster that had just popped.
"No." Matt replied, as his stomach growled in agreement.
Frank laughed. "Well, we usually don't do much in the wayof breakfast on weekdays. It's usually something simple like cereal or toast.We're not big fans of Pop Tarts or Toaster Strudels. But, if you like themjust let me know and I'll put them on the grocery list. That goes for anythingfor that matter, not just breakfast food. However, as of this morning yourchoices are toast, Cheerios, Coco Puffs, or Fruity Pebbles."
"Toast will be fine, thank you."
"Grape or strawberry jelly?" Frank asked, as he scrapedbutter over a piece of toast.
"Strawberry," Matt replied, getting up from the table. "Canyou tell me where the glasses are?"
"They're in the cupboard above the sink and to the right,"Frank told him. "And as far as drinks go, there's milk and orange juice."
"Thanks," Matt said before scraping the legs of his chairhard against the floor as he pushed it in. Waves of sound radiated throughoutthe small room, allowing him to get a mental picture of what it looked like.He easily found the cupboard in question, and got down a glass. He then turnedto the nearby fridge. He pulled open the door and almost immediately found thepitcher of orange juice simply from its smell. He took the pitcher from thefridge and turned towards where he could still hear Frank preparing the toast."Is this the juice?" He asked.
"Right on the first try," Frank replied with a hint ofamazement in his voice.
A loud slurping guzzle could be heard from the table,followed closely by the loud clank of a spoon hitting an empty bowl echoingthrough the room. "I'm done!" Zack announced.
"Well, put your bowl in the sink and go get dressed forschool," Frank told him.
"I'm not going to school," Zack informed him. "I'm goingshopping with Matt and Mommy."
"Yes, you are, but not until after school. Now go getready."
Zack let out a short whine, as he dropped his bowl loudly inthe sink before stomping out of the room.
Matt didn't comment on the exchange between father and son.He just poured himself some juice, hooking his index finger over the lip of theglass and stopping when the cool liquid reached the digit. After sucking theremaining juice off his finger, he put the pitcher back in the fridge, and satback down at the table.
Frank sighed as he sat down beside Matt. "Here you go," hesaid, as he set a plate of toast down in front of the young boy. "Suzan'sgoing to run into the office for a few hours, while Zack's at school," heexplained as he ate his breakfast. "I figured you'd come to the shop with me,then Suzan can pick you up after she gets Zack. And the three of you can gofrom there."
"That's fine," Matt replied around a mouthful of toast andorange juice. "Did she call the school?"
"Yes she did. They're going to work on getting yourtranscripts from East Side then tomorrow you two are going to go down and fillout some paperwork. You'll probably register for classes as well. I figureyou can start as early as Monday."
Matt nodded in response. "Ok."
"You know, Matt," Frank said lightheartedly. "You'reallowed to give your own input. You don't just have to agree with everythingwe tell you."
Matt couldn't help but smile at that. "Yeah, I know."
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Once they'd finished eating and cleaned up the table,leaving their dirtied dishes in the sink, Frank excused himself, his footstepsheading down the hallway towards his and Suzan's bedroom. Matt made his wayinto the living room and sat on the couch, waiting for the others to finishgetting ready.
Eventually, Zack came and sat down beside him, his weightcausing the seat cushions to dip slightly. "Are you gonna walk to school withme and Daddy?"
"Yeah, I guess I am," Matt told him.
"Are you gonna come in and say hello to my teacher and meetall my friends?"
"Well…" Matt began only to be interrupted by Suzan.
"Ok, Honey," she said to Zack. "Mommy's off to work. I'llbe picking you up after school instead of Daddy, and then we'll get Matt and goshopping. Ok?"
"Ok," Zack replied, hardly containing his excitement.
Suzan laughed lightly, apparently at her son's antics."Bye, Honey," she said; her words followed by the sound of a quick kiss. "I'llsee you in a few hours," she called, her voice growing fainter as she left."Bye, guys."
"Bye, Mommy!" Zack yelled back, as the door shut loudly.
Matt didn't return the woman's goodbye. One reason wasbecause he wasn't entirely sure she was addressing him at all. But he'd alsobeen stricken by the scene that had played out in front of him. His father hadnever been very affectionate. Jack Murdock had been more of the "pat on theback, slug on the shoulder, muss the hair type of Dad," rather than thehugging, kissing kind. But it still hurt when he ‘saw' that kind of exchangebetween parent and child.
Matt shook his head, clearing his mind of his melancholythoughts, not wanting to dwell on things he couldn't change. So he just sat onthe couch, once again toying with the strap at the top of his cane.
"You guys ready to go?" Frank asked, entering the room.
"Yep!" Zack replied enthusiastically.
"Matt?" Frank said expectantly.
"Sure," Matt said as he got up off the couch and slipped hisglasses on. He followed father and son out the door, their combined footstepseasily letting him know where they were. They made their way through theapartment complex and then down the six flights of stairs to the street.
It wasn't until they were outside that Matt got a littledisorientated. Being inside muffled things; walls, windows, and doors limitedthe volume of the sounds coming from the outside. It wasn't until thosebarriers were removed that he could actually hear sounds at their trueintensity.
Matt paused for a minute, pushing the roar back into thebackground then focused on sorting through the mental images bombarding him.He quickly found a tall, thick form standing beside him, one he was beginning torecognize as Frank's, and reached out and grabbed a hold of the man's elbow.
It wasn't that he needed a guide. In fact, he'd gottenquite good at getting around, needing only to be vaguely familiar with hissurroundings, relying on his senses for the rest. That was one of the reasonsMatt wanted to stay in Hell's Kitchen. He'd lived there all his life, and knewthe area like one would know their backyard. Still using his senses stillrequired a lot of concentration, and sometimes it was easier to just letsomeone else be his eyes.
It only took them a little more than fifteen minutes to gothe two blocks up 9th Avenue to Adolph S. Elementary, Zack'sschool. Matt let go of Frank's arm as the man kneeled down to say goodbye tohis son.
"Alright, Zack," Frank said. "You have a good day atschool, and I'll see you when your mom brings you down to the shop."
"Ok, bye Daddy. Bye, Matt!" Zack called back, as the sound of his footsteps went running towards thelarge building where Matt could hear the chatter and laughter of little kids.
Matt waved quickly then took a hold Frank's elbow onceagain.
They walked in silence for a while before Frank finallysaid, "Zack seems to be quite taken with you."
Matt couldn't help but grimace, wondering where this conversationwas going to go.
"He can be a little overwhelming at times," Frank continued.
"He's alright."
Frank chuckled at that. "Yes, I tend to think he's a prettycool kid myself."
"That's not what I meant…I mean…" Matt tried to clarify,afraid that he had offended the man. However, his stuttering only made Franklaugh harder.
"It's ok, Matt," he assured him, humor in his voice. "I'mjust saying that I can understand if you're going to want some time toyourself. Which, trust me, isn't going to be easy to get with Zack around.So, I want you to know that if you ever feel that he's getting to be too much,just let me know."
Matt wasn't sure how to reply to that, so he simply nodded.He'd never had a brother, and truthfully, he'd enjoyed the short amount of timehe'd spent with the five-year-old. He'd liked showing Zack what it was like tobe blind and telling him about car brands. It was a new experience for him,and he looked forward to teaching Zack more. But at the same time, he was usedto being on his own a lot. He was used to having his time to himself, andbeing alone with just his thoughts. So he could understand why Frank thoughtthat the young boy might be a little overwhelming or suffocating. And heappreciated the fact that Frank was willing to make sure that he had time tohimself. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," Frank said before bringing them to a stopin one of the storefront doorways, his keys jingling as he pulled them out ofhis pocket. "And here we are, ‘Miller & Son Watch Repair.'" Frankreleased the metal security gate in front of the store, sliding it up and outof the way. He then unlocked the door and pushed it open, setting off thelittle bell that was above it.
Matt reached out with his senses as he entered the shop.The room felt large or empty, like it was just one big open floor. He waitedfor the bell to ring once Frank let the door close, using the sound of thethree short chimes to map the room. There were three glass display cases, orso he guessed, making a horseshoe shape around the shop. The case along theback had a cash register setting on it, and there was a closed door on the farwall.
"This is the display room," Frank explained, before leadingMatt towards the back. "But back here," he said as he unlocked the otherdoor. "Back here is where I do most of my work."
Matt could immediately feel the difference between the tworooms. Where the display room was large and open, this room felt small andcluttered. It was almost enough to make him feel claustrophobic.
"Just be careful in this room," Frank warned. "There's junkeverywhere."
"Ok," Matt replied, as he let Frank guide him over to aseat. Once he was seated, Matt tapped his cane against the wooden floor. Theimages he interpreted from the sounds showed that the room contained a singledesk, cluttered with various shapes that he couldn't identify. Aside from thedesk chair and the one he was sitting in, there was another setting in one ofthe corners. There were also two bookshelves piled high with books and boxes.
Along with the images he was able to construct from thesounds in the room, there were the smells. The thick smell of oil and greasefilled the room, accompanied by a fainter musty odor of old worn books and thecrisp scent of new ones. But beneath those, there was also the waxy smell ofcrayons.
"I used to sit in the chair you're in right now, across thedesk from my dad, helping him repair and build watches," Frank told him. "Now,Zack usually sits there after school, coloring or playing with his toys."
"Do you think you'll pass down the business to him?" Mattasked, partially out of interest, but mostly because he didn't know what elseto say. Frank always seemed to steer the conversation towards awkward orpainful topics, topics such as the relationship between father and son, orsimply family in general. They were subjects that most people usually didn'thave to dance around. But Matt's father had just been killed, he'd never knownhis mother, and didn't have any other family left to speak of. He knew thatFrank meant well, but that still didn't make talking about such things veryeasy.
"I would like to," Frank replied. "But Zack hasn'tnecessarily shown any interest yet. But then again, he's only five. So, I'vestill got some time to work on him a little."
A moment of awkward silence seemed to stretch between them,neither sure of where to take the conversation. Until, Frank finally brokeit. "So…do they make special watches for the blind?" he asked.
Matt shrugged. "Yeah. When I was in rehab they showed mehow to use a few of them."
"What are they like?"
"Well, some of them are audio," Matt explained. "You pressa button and an automated voice will read you the time. The others are justlike regular watches, but with a covering that you can open. So you canactually feel the hands of the clock and read it that way. Those usually haveBraille numbers on them."
"Do you have one?" Frank asked.
Matt shook his head. "No. A lot of that stuff is prettyexpensive, the watches and different encoders and stuff. So, me and my dadworried about getting the important things, like my walking cane and books tohelp me learn Braille."
"So, they're more like luxuries than necessities then?"Frank asked, seeming to be genuinely interested.
Matt shrugged. "I guess you could say that. I've gottenalong so far without."
"I suppose you have," Frank replied, before pausing for amoment. "Well," he said, as if he'd just reached some decision. "I guess Ishould get some work done."
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By the end of the day, Matt could understand why Frank chosenot to go shopping with them. Between Zack's almost constant whining andSuzan's insistence that they go to every store in the Manhattan, he'd becomequite tired and irritated. He wanted nothing more than to retreat to therooftop. But he still didn't feel comfortable doing that, didn't think theMillers would be comfortable with it. So, when they got back to the apartment,he'd snatched up his bags and shut himself in Zack's and his room, putting inFuel's latest CD and turning it up as loud as he dared.
He knew it was childish, running off to pout, but Mattdidn't care. He just couldn't be around any of them right now, especiallySuzan. They had practically been butting heads all day and he was beginning tothink that the two of them were never going to get along. It was a fact thattroubled him for reasons he didn't really understand. But that wasn't entirelytrue either. He knew why he so much wanted these people to like him. He wasafraid, afraid that they would cast him away if he didn't measure up.
Matt had never known his mother, and it was all he could dojust to get his father to talk about her. But he knew she wasn't dead; he knewthat she'd left them. He'd discovered that much from his father's drunkenbabbling. It wasn't much. But it was enough to plant a small seed of doubtwithin him, doubt about himself and the real reason she'd left them.
There had never been any doubt, however, with his father.Matt knew that Jack Murdock's world had practically revolved around him. Heknew that despite how hard his father pushed him to succeed that it would bealmost impossible to let his father down. But now, that security wasn'tthere. Now, he was living with people who could choose whether or not theyallowed him to stay in their home. He was afraid that he wouldn't measure upto the Millers, just as he feared he hadn't measured up in his mother's eyes.
Matt let out a shaky sigh as he took off his glasses andwiped his eyes and nose with the end of his shirtsleeve. He finished puttingaway the few new items he'd gotten that day, only leaving the clothes out soFrank or Suzan could help him keep his drawers and closet organized. When hewas done, Matt opened the bedroom window and sat down on the ledge, allowingthe cooler air of early September to come into the room, just as he did thenight before.
TBC...
