iv. white rooms

THE SPIDER COULDN'T remember when she became the Spider. All she remembered was the needles in her arms, the bugs crawling all over, and the hands that stained her thighs. She was cursed, doomed even. It is an endless cycle for which she is trapped in. Day in and day out is filled with nothing but dread and screams she did not even know she could scream anymore.

  The Spider wasn't sure how old she was anymore. The cake came in randomly one day a year, pumped with steroids and other drugs she couldn't put a name to. She tasted insane amounts of metal in her spit. There were candles, but the Spider can not count yet. She has yet to earn that privilege.

The Spider knows she is not a person.

   She is a mixture of blood, bones, and chemicals with no names. The Spider could feel her blood fizzle and pop in her veins.

The Spider hated the tests given to her. They burned her skin, adding to the many scars she had no recollection of ever getting in the first place.

   The Spider knows that this is bad for her. She knows she isn't supposed to be struggling in this prison. She knows this isn't right, but she can't explain why.

   The Spider knows that those technicians shouldn't touch her like that. It burns when they do. She is sore in places she had no idea you could be sore in after they leave her alone. She is unsure if all of this is apart of her many tests, but they ache and they burn. The Spider can feel something being ripped away from her, but she isn't sure what it is anymore.

   They will come in and tell her what to do. The Spider has no choice but to listen anymore. There is an illusion of free will plastered on the halls of the lab she calls her home. She knows what home is from the books she has read. The books have little bugs on them. Spiders are not bugs though, one lab technician tells her on a school day. The Spider loves school days. She gets to color in the lines and learn shapes.

   There are nine candles on the cake filled with steroids. She is nine in human years.

   The Spider has been training to use her teeth. Her handlers (some people call them parents in her books, but her handlers are meaner than the parents in her books) say she has to be perfect to be presented to the board. The Spider is unsure what the board is, but she has been preparing for them her entire life.

  There are ten candles on the cake filled with rat poison. She is ten in human years.

   The lab technician have begun doing more than before. She knows these touches are bad now. She can't disobey what is asked of her anymore. The Spider knows it is only because she is bad. Tainted. Ruined. Whenever they enter her room, the Spider knows she is going to be burned by hands that do not belong to her. She is their plaything now.

  There are eleven candles on the cake laced with cyanide. She is eleven in human years.

  She is immune to diseases. The Spider has been given every damn illness underneath this Earth's sun, and not a single one has come back positive. She can not get sick, which makes her handlers proud. They give her a bone, like a dog. The Spider feels like a dog. She knows what those are from her coloring sheets. The Spider is a pet, she thinks to herself whenever she is alone in her cage. A pet in the form of a girl.

  The Spider can't read. They have tried fixing her, but she can't be fixed. The letters spin around when she sees them. Her handlers claim it could be a side effect from the chemicals. The Spider thinks she was cursed.

  There are twelve candles on the cake soaked in gasoline. She is twelve in human years.

  The Spider is in pain. She's in flames, as are her handlers. But she does not burn. They do. They beg and they scream. The Spider ignores the joy in her belly that boils as they all melt. The Spider giggles as she smells freedom. There is blood on the hospital gown she dawns, but she does not scream.

There were only twelve candles on the cake that freed her.

MATT MURDOCK HAD the devil in him. He's heard the saying his entire life. His own blood has whispered it to him as he sat along the pews of a church he has long since forgotten the name of. He marched along the rooftops of Hell's Kitchen, unsure of what exactly he was looking for. But Foggy had been reporting the spider kid wandering around from Brooklyn into Daredevil territory as of two days ago. He had a vague idea of who the spider kid was underneath the mask, but that was based on his own findings. (see: stalking during patrol)

    He crawled along the sky of Hell's Kitchen. The spider kid was close by. He could hear her soft out of breath pants and her gentle whispers to herself. Matt had a gut feeling that she wasn't entirely old enough to be out here. Call it fatherly intuition or whatever it was, but Matt knew damn well that the spider kid was just that. A kid.

   The spider kid floated above him, launching herself with webs that extended through the material of her suit. He remembered seeing her along side that dead cop. Captain Donatello Stacy  if he remembered correctly. He was sure that the late captain and the spider kid were friends out of uniform, but if that were the case, wouldn't she have been at his burial?

   "You're out late," Matt said once he reached the same rooftop as the masked vigilante. She looked at Matt as if he had grown an extra limb. "Shouldn't you head back to bed, kid?" The masked vigilante only shook her head. Matt was trying to remember the kid's official name. It was spider themed, just like her. It hit him just as she stretched. Archnae.

   "It is only one o'clock in the morning," Archnae pointed out. She was leaning on the railing of the roof, hands supporting her masked face. Upon getting closer to Archnae, Matt realized this was definitely a kid. She sounded like someone who wasn't even legally allowed to drive yet. Matt could sense that she was a freshman in high school, maybe a sophomore at best. "You should be home as well. You can not even see me."

   Matt froze in his spot. He felt her shift in her own spot, peering at him nervously. "How'd you know?" It was obvious to anyone who actually paid any sort of attention to him.

   "You are not looking directly at me. You gaze lingers away from my face. It is actually refreshing, Mr Daredevil." Matt actually died on the spot. He was no sucker for politeness. Foggy or Karen would have melted immediately at Archnae's tone. Matt, however, only smiled. "You are not as mean as the rumors say you are. I have heard you do not enjoy people crossing into your territory, but I am working on something." She might've smiled at him.

   Matt thought for a moment. Archnae was a kid, and kids in Hell's Kitchen needed as much supervision as possible. Listen, if the Devil of Hell's Kitchen knew anything about anything, was that this kid was in a shit ton of trouble. With her pink and black suit, and the little cat charm attached to her pink Jordans, Archnae was nothing but a brightly colored girl playing dress up. (This was all told told to him in a debrief with Foggy yesterday over coffee)

   "Maybe I can help you with whatever you're working on. Just make sure to get the hell out of here once it's done. I'm sure the Prowler's more important than whatever business Hell's Kitchen dragged you into."

   Matt could hear Archnae's foot steps inch closer to him. "Mr Daredevil, I can assure you Hell's Kitchen criminals are not the worst I have dealt with." She paused for a moment. "But I do appreciate the help." Archnae was silent for a minute. Matt could hear her heart beat speed up. "Could we possibly meet for coffee tomorrow night? Or whatever most adult men enjoy these days."

   Typically, adult men enjoyed a beer and maybe a visit to the local strip club. Matt wasn't going to tell Archnae that. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose through his mask. "Sure, kid, a coffee sounds nice." Archnae laughed as she clapped her hands in joy. A soft shuffling noise beside Matt caused him to move a little farther from her.

   There was a moment of panicked breathing before Archnae was in front of him again. She hesitated before hugging him. Matt would be lying if he said he wasn't entirely confused as to why the actual hell he was getting a hug from the same vigilante who stopped an active shooter a week ago. She was smaller than him. She pressed her masked face against his chest, before letting go just as quickly.

   "Sorry. That was unprofessional. It was nice to meet you, Mr Daredevil. Have a good night."

   "Stay safe, kid," was all he could muster.

  Matt heard Archnae leap from the roof top. That was a fucking child playing superhero. Matt groaned, placing his head against the railing of the rooftop. He made a deal to work with a fucking child on whatever crime bust she was planning. Archnae should be home right now, working on some stupid science project or on the phone with her dumb friends. This pained him a little.

   The Devil of Hell's Kitchen turned on his heel. He needed to get away from the roof. This was a fucking shit show.

hi flashback chapter! this one is my favorite chapter ever. dehumanization by taking isabellas name is something i want studied. bcuz guys. taking someones name from them is CRUEL. i am so so sorry for the lab flashback chapter but it had to be done. (it didn't have to be done) (this is payback bcuz ray is evil) (just kidding) but matt and foggy introduction??? wowowowow!!! ok so this is MY canon now and i get to pick which comic characters exist. matt fits isabella's empty father figure spot (and mine) so lets just pretend he got introduced in this universe. earth 616 wasn't just for mr murdock, earth 42 needs a matt murdock and he is quite silly.

this one took a while to come out. i had this huge personal event happen and it kinda overtook my life for a bit. BUT!! im back and so this is the product of my silly isolation thoughts.

alana's spark notes summary:
isabella: mitski's drunk walk home screams
&
matt murdock, exhausted & concerned & confused: you are a child
isabella: i am a grown woman !?!?!!?!??!?!?!?