The afternoon sun beat down on the bustling streets of Hell's Kitchen, casting long shadows between the worn buildings. Ten-year-old Matt Murdock tugged his jacket tighter around him as he walked down the cracked sidewalk, the distant scent of street vendors mingling with the faint exhaust fumes in the air. His stomach growled insistently with a reminder that the hot dog stand just a few blocks away was his destination.
The city hummed with life: a group of kids playing stickball on the corner, the clatter of subway trains rumbling beneath the pavement, and the chatter of vendors shouting their wares. Matt's small feet padded quickly, eyes scanning eagerly for the familiar red-and-white striped cart where he'd been promised a treat.
As he neared the stand, a sudden commotion tore through the calm. A sharp screech of tires, a harsh shout. Matt's head snapped up.
Across the street, an old man had stepped off the curb, his weathered cane tapping slowly on the pavement. His eyes were fixed on a newspaper he clutched in one hand, oblivious to the rumbling truck barreling toward him. The driver's face was taut with panic, horn blaring, but the man seemed frozen in place.
Without thinking, Matt dashed forward, heart pounding in his chest.
"Hey! Watch out!" he screamed, his voice cutting through the noise.
Time slowed. The truck lunged forward, its massive frame growing larger with every step. Matt's legs pumped furiously as he reached the old man just in time, grabbing his arm and yanking him back.
The old man stumbled, barely avoiding the front bumper by mere inches.
But as Matt pulled him away, his foot caught on a loose piece of metal on the street. He tumbled forward, landing hard on his knees and palms. Before he could steady himself, a dark, slick liquid spilled from the truck's undercarriage, splashing over his face and dripping into his eyes.
A searing pain exploded behind his eyelids, sharp and overwhelming. Matt's mouth opened in a raw, terrified scream.
"I can't see! I can't see!" His voice cracked, trembling with panic as he clutched his face, wiping frantically but only spreading the oily burn.
The old man, now safe but shaken, turned to Matt. "Son, are you okay? Can you see?" His voice was gentle but filled with concern.
Matt staggered back, trying to focus, but the world had turned to a blur of shadows and fire behind closed lids. "It's burning… I can't see anything!" His knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the sidewalk, trembling.
Suddenly, a strong hand gripped his shoulder.
"Matt! Hey, it's me, Dad!" The voice was urgent but steady.
Jack, his father, was already kneeling beside him, eyes wide with worry as he examined the black liquid smeared across Matt's face. "Hold on, kid. We're getting you to a hospital. You'll be okay."
Matt's chest heaved with ragged breaths, tears streaming down his cheeks as he whimpered, "I can't see… I can't see…"
Jack lifted him gently, cradling him like a precious thing as he flagged down a passing cab.
The city noise faded beneath the roar of adrenaline and fear. All Matt could focus on was the burning agony behind his closed eyes and the growing darkness swallowing the world around him.
Timeskip
Jack's breath came in quick, sharp gasps as he bolted through the busy streets, cradling Matt tightly against his chest. The world was a blur of noise and motion with honking cars, shouting pedestrians, the distant wail of sirens but none of it mattered. Only Matt's anguished cries echoed in Jack's mind.
"I can't see, Dad… I can't see!" The words tore at Jack's heart, raw and desperate.
The cab screeched to a halt in front of the hospital entrance. Jack practically threw open the door, hauling Matt out into the harsh fluorescent light of the emergency room lobby. Nurses and doctors glanced up, sensing the urgency in his voice.
"Help! My son….he's been blinded by something…oil, I think. Please, he can't see!" Jack's voice cracked, desperation choking his words.
A nurse snapped into action, grabbing a wheelchair while another called for an ophthalmologist. Jack sat beside Matt, who was now trembling, tears streaming down his soot-streaked face. Matt reached up, touching his eyes as if trying to will the darkness away.
"It hurts, Dad. It hurts so bad."
Jack swallowed the lump in his throat and forced a calm he didn't feel. "I'm here, son. We're gonna fix this. You're gonna be okay."
Minutes passed, each stretching painfully long. Then the ophthalmologist, a stern but kind-faced woman in scrubs, appeared, gently taking Matt's hand.
"Mr. Murdock, your son's injury is severe, but there is hope. The oil has caused chemical burns to his eyes, which is why he's in so much pain and why he can't see right now."
Jack's chest tightened. "Is he going to… lose his sight?"
The doctor shook her head slowly. "Not necessarily. We can perform surgery to try and restore his vision. It's delicate and complex, but we've had success with cases like this."
Relief surged in Jack, only to be quickly tempered by the next words.
"The surgery will be expensive, and it's not something that can be delayed. We'll need to discuss payment options before we can proceed."
Jack's jaw clenched. He looked down at Matt's tear-streaked face that was so small, so fragile and felt the weight of the world press down on him.
"I don't have the money," Jack admitted quietly, voice barely above a whisper. "I'll find a way. I'll do whatever it takes."
The doctor gave a sympathetic nod. "We'll do everything we can to help. But time is critical."
Matt whimpered softly, reaching for Jack's hand. Jack gripped it tightly, feeling the little boy's trembling fingers against his own.
"I'm scared, Dad," Matt said, voice cracking.
Jack swallowed hard, fighting back his own rising fear. "I know, kid. But you're the toughest kid I know. We're gonna get through this. Together."
Jack looked up, catching the gaze of the doctor. "Please. Do what you have to do."
The sterile hospital lights above seemed to glow too bright, a stark contrast to the dark uncertainty looming over them. But in that moment, Jack vowed silently: he would move heaven and earth to save his son's sight. No matter the cost.
Timeskip
Jack's heavy footsteps echoed through the cramped hallway of their modest apartment. The door creaked open, and the smell of stale coffee and damp clothes hit him like a punch to the gut. He tightened his grip on the crumpled hospital papers in his hand as he stepped inside.
"Maggie," he called softly, his voice rough with exhaustion. The small living room was dim, the only light coming from a flickering TV set tuned to a late-night boxing match. Maggie stood near the window, arms crossed tightly, her face drawn and pale. The weight of the world seemed to press down on her slender shoulders.
Jack's throat tightened. "The doctors… they say Matt's vision is savable. He needs surgery, though. It's expensive."
Maggie's eyes flashed with something sharp Thea looked like anger and fear something Jack hadn't seen in a long time. She let out a bitter laugh. "Expensive? You think a surgery will fix this? That everything will just go back to normal? You always think money can fix everything, Jack. But look where that got us."
Jack's jaw clenched. "I'm trying, Maggie. I'm doing everything I can for Matt."
She turned, eyes blazing. "You didn't protect him! You weren't there! You were too busy chasing fights, chasing your stupid dreams. And now you expect me to trust you? To believe you can pay for this surgery?"
Jack's heart shattered. The room felt like it was closing in, the walls pressing tighter with every word. "I'm begging you.."
"No, Jack. I can't do this anymore." Her voice cracked. "I want a divorce. I can't live with this… this nightmare. Not with you."
The words hit Jack like a hammer. For a moment, he stood frozen, the world blurring around him. The wife he loved, the family he fought for they were slipping away.
Without another word, Maggie gathered a few belongings and walked toward the door. Jack barely heard it close behind her.
Alone, the silence swallowed him.
His hands trembled as he dropped the hospital papers onto the worn kitchen table. The weight of failure crushed his chest, suffocating him. The promise he made to Matt, the fight for his son's future and now it all seemed hopeless.
Then, a dark resolve settled in.
Jack's eyes hardened. He had one skill left to call upon and it was the only way he knew to bring in quick money.
He grabbed his old boxing gloves, worn but familiar, and stared at them like an old friend.
If he had to risk everything, if he had to fight against the odds, he would. For Matt.
For the son he couldn't lose.
Timeskip
The arena buzzed like a living beast, its energy crackling through the thick air heavy with sweat and anticipation. Jack Murdock stood in the center of the ring, his body battered and bruised, lungs burning with each ragged breath. The crowd's roar was deafening that was a tidal wave of noise that pushed and pulled at him but his eyes locked onto his opponent, a hulking man whose sneer revealed years of confidence and cruelty.
The bell rang.
Jack's world narrowed to the dance of fists and feet, the clash of wills. His opponent lunged with a brutal right hook that grazed Jack's jaw, sending a jolt of pain searing through his cheek. Jack shook it off, focusing on the rhythm he'd learned in countless fights before. His fists rose, blocking, weaving, striking.
A swift jab snapped into the man's ribs, eliciting a grunt. Jack's knuckles burned as he followed with a series of punches with each one fueled by desperation and love. This wasn't just a fight; it was a battle for his son's future, for the hope that flickered in Matt's eyes.
Sweat stung Jack's eyes, mixing with the blood trickling from a split brow. The crowd surged behind him, some shouting encouragement, others jeering. He felt every muscle scream as his opponent came back with a vicious uppercut. Jack staggered but caught himself against the ropes, refusing to fall.
Summoning every ounce of strength, Jack pivoted and unleashed a crushing right cross that landed square on his opponent's chin. The man's knees buckled. The arena seemed to hold its breath as the giant crashed to the canvas.
The referee counted one… two… three and with each count Jack's heart pounding like a drum.
By the time the count reached ten, Jack's hand was raised in victory.
The roar erupted again, louder this time, but Jack's mind was elsewhere on Matt, on the surgery, on everything hanging in the balance.
Later, alone in the dim locker room, Jack sank onto the cold bench, his body aching from the fight but his spirit burning with grim determination. The sting of sweat and blood lingered as he pressed a rag to his brow.
The door creaked open.
His promoter stepped in, eyes sharp but voice low.
"Jack, someone wants to see you. Says it's important."
Jack looked up, wary but curious. "Who?"
The promoter shrugged. "Didn't say much. Said it's about your son."
Jack's heart skipped a beat.
He wiped his face, forcing a steady breath. "Send him in."
As the door opened wider, a tall man in a dark suit stepped inside, his gaze calculating and unreadable.
"Jack Murdock," the man said smoothly, voice calm but carrying an edge that made Jack instinctively tense.
Jack swallowed hard, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Who are you?"
The man stood and extended a hand. "Joseph Maggie."
Jack hesitated for a moment, then shook the hand and he held a look with Joseph that was firm, unyielding.
Joseph's eyes bore into Jack's soul. "I know about your son. The accident. The damage. It's a cruel twist of fate."
Jack's throat tightened. "You know about Matt?"
Joseph smiled thinly. "I do. And I can help."
Jack's voice wavered with hope and desperation. "Help? How?"
Joseph walked slowly around the desk, hands clasped behind his back. "I have resources. Connections. The kind of help money alone can't buy. Surgery, treatments, care whatever it takes to save your boy's sight."
Jack's breath caught in his throat. "What do you want in return?"
Joseph's smile darkened. "A favor. Nothing too complicated. Just a debt owed. You help me when the time comes."
Jack's mind raced, but the image of Matt's tear-streaked face, the helplessness in his son's voice, silenced all doubts.
Without hesitation, Jack nodded. "You have a deal."
Joseph's smile widened, a predator pleased with its catch. "Good. We'll get started right away."
Jack left the locker room feeling a strange mix of relief and dread. He had secured a lifeline for Matt, but at what cost? The favor owed hung over him like a shadow, a dark promise lurking just beneath the surface.
As the door closed behind him, Jack knew this was only the beginning of a far more dangerous fight.