MGMaggie Grace
Angry, sarcastic... and stubborn. Maybe you don't have any friends.
Someone once told me that warriors are meant to be alone. That caring for people would make me weak.
Sounds like he needed to get laid.
[chuckles] Ha! That actually explains a lot. I mean he was right of course, I let people in, I paid the price. What is this?
Dug those out of storage. You're probably the last one to read them.
My bible. Alright. I get the hint.
And I get the sense that things are complicated with you and the 'Guy upstairs'
[laughs] No. Not at all. If anything I'd say where we finally stand with each other. [pauses] There's a man from the land of Uz.
The Book of Job. The story of God's perfect servant Job. He prayed everyday, falling to his knees on the ground, face in the dirt. Slaughtered 10 goats, one for each of his children, burned them at the altar in God's honour. All of God's soldiers, Job, he was the most loyal.
I know the story Matthew.
Ah, well then you know what happens next. God murdered all ten of Job's children in cold blood. Scorched every inch of Job's land, lashed at his skin until it was covered in bloody welts. God rained shit and misery on the life of his most perfect servant and still... Job would not curse him. You know what I realised... Job was a pussy. You may say that was me Sister. I suffered willingly. I gave my, er, sweat and blood and skin, without complaint because I too believed that I was God's soldier. ... Well not anymore. I am what I do in the dark now, and bleed only for myself.
[Maggie removes the cross from around her neck and puts it in Matt's hand. He feels it for a moment before chucking it onto the bed]
I heard every spiteful word. You might hate God right now but the feeling is not mutual
I don't hate Him. I've just seen His true face is all. And for the record, I had friends, I had a life. I-- care about people and I'm choosing to let them believe that I'm gone because I am. I'm not Job. [sniffs] And I know my truth now.
Well that, in front of this God, I'd rather die as the devil than live as Matt Murdock.
Tell me, special agent Nadeem... Do you have anyone in your life who you love so much you would do anything to protect them?
I have made many mistakes. But I accept the debt I'm paying because of them. But what I will not accept that the woman I love should have to pay for them, too. I would do anything to protect her. Anything.
I'm sorry, what is it you're saying?
I've spent much of my life alone. And for many years, I pretended that this was the source of my strength. I told myself I had free will. And in that time, I achieved a great deal. But I was not fulfilled. I was longing for a connection that I could imagine but I could not achieve. Searching and not finding. Until Vanessa. Until I discovered love. I thought I would explode with the sense of power and freedom that she brought me. That the world lay at my feet. But then that passed when I discovered the great lie at the heart of love. That what I took for true freedom was precisely the reverse. You can build a prison of stone and steel, but you merely present the prisoner with a challenge. Any truly determined man will find a way out. But love... Love is the perfect prison. Inescapable. So you see, Agent Nadeem... I am always in prison, wherever I go. And if these things help me protect Vanessa, then they are nothing to me. I will do whatever I must.
I understand you're just trying to do your job, but respectfully? if I were wearing a mask, the press would be calling me a hero. Instead, I'm sitting here with you, trying to justify protecting myself.
PPsychiatrist
I'm not the enemy. I'm just trying to... Look, forget the psych bullshit for a minute. Just... tell me for real, how are you?
It's hard. It's really hard.
[In a flashback, Dex is working at suicide prevention hotline. He reads off a script as Fisk observes.]
Tell me, Craig... Are you thinking about taking your own life right now? Okay. Do you have a plan?
[Dex notices that no one is around him. He puts the script down.]
What kind of gun do you have, Craig?
[Fisk takes interest.]
Yeah, I'm familiar with the M11. Did a couple years in the army, got real cozy with the M11. It's reliable. Let me ask you a question, Craig. This asshole stepdad of yours is giving you so much grief... Why take your own life? Why not...
[Dex notices Julie watching and quickly hunches over the script.]
Take a deep breath, Craig? We're gonna work through this together. I'm not going anywhere.
I want you to tell me I'm a bad person.
Then why are you looking at me like that?
Because my friend -- my amazing, kind, brilliant friend went through something terrible and I didn't know.
When I got the gun, I could've called the cops, I could've run.
You were afraid for your life. It was self-defense!
I shot him seven times. Because I wanted him dead.
Has Matt been a shitty friend lately? Without a doubt. But deep down, I think it's hurting him as much as it's hurting us.
Because he could've gone to any reporter, Karen, but he came to you. Maybe Matt's finally coming to his senses. But even if he isn't, the way he's been treating us lately has been on him. But us turning our backs would be on us. People have bailed on Matt his whole life, and I'm not gonna be one of 'em. You do what you want, but that's not the kind of friend I wanna be.
[laughs] It's like you argue for a living!
I don't know what strings you had to pull to get that waitress a job, but it was a waste of your time. Yeah, they train us in counterintel at Quantico. You really think I'm gonna fall for some bush-league honey trap? You got it in your head that she means something to me. But she doesn't. She doesn't mean shit to me. So what? You... You have me tailed for a few days, you think you know me? Think you got me dialed? You don't, all right? You don't know anything about me. Say something!
When I was a boy... I... beat my father's skull in with a hammer. I was twelve years old. Young for my age, in fact. Terribly inexperienced. I'd never been to a dance with a girl or... stayed up past midnight. Never been out of the city or even taken a subway on my own. Yet there I was. Twelve years old, standing over my father's body... watching him die by my hand. That feeling -- that moment... I sense it's something you're familiar with. You were taught to hide beneath many fictions. You fashioned yourself into something the world would tolerate. A soldier doing his patriotic duty, a sniper in the FBI... The watchful companion of a nice young woman.
You destroyed what we had.
If it were honest and true, no one could've destroyed it!
I should've let you die. [Fisk steps forward.] Stay back...
Julie never would've understood you. And society won't, either; it punishes people like you. Like us...