1) Waking Up

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Vera's head hurt. Like my-skull-is-gonna-crack-into-at-least-two-pieces hurt. Also, she was lying on a floor – no, on a pavement – and she had no fucking idea how that happened, which sucked. She opened her eyes and immediately shut them close again. She reached to her throbbing head, groaning and deciding she was never going to do something as stupid as trying to open them again.

The thing was, she had no clue where she was, how she had got here, what had happened or what day it was, and not keeping her eyes closed would help with at least one of these questions. She whined and slowly commanded her eyelids to open.

She was in a dirty alleyway, probably somewhere in New York, Hell's Kitchen. Not that she was sure of that. Well, so much for seeing her surroundings being helpful.

With closer inspection, she found herself being clothed in her jeans and sweatshirt and considering the fact she wasn't cold, she came to conclusion it was like... end of April? Go me. Also, she had nothing in her pockets and there was no sign of a handbag or a backpack around her. Perfect. No calling for help then.

She pushed herself up with a groan, grateful for the presence of the wall on her right; she leaned into it so she wouldn't fall as the world spun. So. She probably got mugged and hit to her head pretty badly. Awesome. She subconsciously touched her left hand and felt a slight relief; whoever the mugger slash assailant had been, he had been polite enough to leave her engagement ring on. Sweet. She also had her watch, showing her it was just before seven – but the thinnest hand announcing the seconds was still, which meant the time could be totally different.

Vera sighed and remaining close to the wall, she headed to the main street. The sun was slowly coming up – did that mean she had been walking to work? But that would mean she hadn't noticed the watch had been broken by the time she had put them on in the morning, her usual go-to-work time being around five. Also, she couldn't remember— oh. Not to work. To her fit-box lesson. Right.

And shit. If it was already morning, she had been out for quite a while. Also, Matt was probably scared shitless. And she was late for work. It really was a miracle Mrs. Walker hadn't fired her yet; Vera was giving her reasons for that too often. She hoped her boss had her back this time too. Also, it was a wonder people still came to her lessons, considering how often she had been cancelling in the last moment (or not at all, leaving them just stand there with no explanation or a lecturer).

She entered the busy street, standing up straighter and trying to avoid the rivers of people flowing through the streets; it was easier than anticipated. Also, no one was paying attention to the woman who looked no doubt hangover and maybe even a little homeless.

Vera was relieved she found herself on a known spot soon, quickly choosing the fastest way home; she was hoping Matt wasn't out for a meeting yet, because she so didn't want to beg their landlord to lend her the spare key to their apartment.

By the time she reached the apartment building , the headache slightly faded to her delight. She jogged the few stairs to the door, hitting the bell which read Murdock— only to her see her hand-- her hand--- what the actual fuck?!

Only to see her hand... disappear in the wall the device was installed in. Her... her hand just went through a wall. She quickly retreated it, jumping away from the device.

"Doprdele."

I'm dead, was her first thought. I'm a ghost.

Vera giggled at the ridiculous idea instantly, trying calm down the icy fright that ran through her. She shook her head, reaching for the doorbell again.

Things Unseen, Things Unheard *Matt Murdock*Daredevil x Supernatural* Damned*Where stories live. Discover now