Dex's Descent
The scent hit Dex like a physical force - a wave of sweetness and vulnerability that made his alpha instincts scream for dominance and protection. He’d known something was off about Murdock, the way the man moved with a grace that wasn’t quite alpha, the way he seemed to be fighting against something unseen. But omega?
The realization slammed into him, rewriting everything he thought he knew about the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. The man he’d been ordered to surveil, the man Fisk wanted to protect, was an omega, struggling to survive in a world built for alphas. And not just any omega, but a little too, if Fisk was right. Dex’s hands tightened into fists as he watched Murdock step into the building.
His training kicked in instantly, overriding the primal urge to rush in and shield Murdock from harm. He found a broken window on the second floor, giving him a clear view of the confrontation unfolding below. Five alphas, their scents aggressive and predatory. Murdock was already at a disadvantage, his movements sluggish and his senses clearly compromised.
Dex’s mind raced, calculating angles, distances, potential threats. He was a weapon, honed and sharpened over years of rigorous training. Every object was a potential projectile, every shadow a hiding place. He just needed the opportunity.
When the first knife flashed, Dex knew he couldn’t wait any longer.
He grabbed a nearby bottle, its glass thick and heavy, and hurled it with pinpoint accuracy. The bottle struck the first attacker squarely in the head, shattering on impact and sending him crashing to the ground. The sound was like a gunshot in the confined space, momentarily stunning the others.
That was all Dex needed.
He moved like a ghost through the building's upper levels, his senses heightened, his reflexes lightning-fast. A handful of pens became deadly projectiles, each finding its mark with surgical precision. A shower of coins turned into a hail of bullets, tearing through flesh and disrupting the alphas' attack.
Dex was a symphony of controlled violence, his movements precise and economical. He used everything at his disposal - broken tiles, shards of glass, even the building's decaying infrastructure - to create a whirlwind of chaos and pain. His alpha instincts were screaming, demanding he tear through the building and eliminate every threat, but he forced himself to remain calm, focused. He couldn't risk revealing himself to Murdock, not yet.
He saw Murdock stumble, taking a brutal hit to the ribs. Rage surged through Dex, but he channeled it into his movements, his attacks becoming even more ruthless. The leader, a hulking brute with a cruel smile, was clearly the biggest threat. Dex needed to take him down quickly.
He found a deck of playing cards scattered on a nearby table, their edges worn and faded. He picked one up, focusing his energy, and sent it flying with a flick of his wrist. The card sailed through the air like a razor, embedding itself in the leader's throat with lethal force. The man gasped, clawing at his neck as he collapsed, his eyes wide with shock.
The remaining attackers panicked, their bravado dissolving into fear. They tried to run, but Dex was already moving, cutting off their escape routes with calculated precision. A handful of marbles scattered on the stairs sent one crashing down, his bones snapping on the hard concrete. The other turned to face Dex, his eyes pleading.
Dex didn't hesitate. He grabbed a broken pool cue, its wood splintered and sharp, and thrust it forward with all his force. The cue pierced the attacker's heart, ending the fight in an instant.
Silence descended on the building, broken only by the ragged breathing of the omega below. Dex’s senses were overwhelmed with the scent of blood and fear, but beneath it all, he could still detect Murdock's unique omega signature.
He watched as Murdock straightened up, his body bruised and battered but his spirit unbroken. The omega called out, his voice strained but defiant: "Who are you?"
Dex wanted to answer, wanted to step out of the shadows and offer his protection. But he couldn't. Fisk's orders were clear.
He slipped away through the building's shadows, his alpha instincts raging against leaving Murdock alone. He needed to be close, needed to make sure the omega was safe. But he couldn't risk exposing himself, not until Fisk gave the word.
He found a new vantage point three buildings away, giving him a clear view of Murdock as he stumbled out of the building. The omega’s scent was stronger now, the suppressants clearly wearing off from the exertion of the fight. Dex clenched his fists, fighting the urge to rush forward and sweep Murdock into his arms.
He pulled out his phone, his hand shaking slightly. He hated waiting, hated being forced to remain in the shadows while Murdock suffered.
“It’s done,” he said when Fisk answered. “He’s safe.”
“And?” Fisk’s voice held a knowing tone.
“You were right.” Dex’s fingers tightened on the phone. “He’s an omega. And he’s killing himself with those suppressants.”
A beat of silence. “Then we have work to do.” Fisk paused. “Follow him. Make sure he gets back to the church safely. And Dex?”
“Yes?”
“Remember - he’s not to know it’s you. Not yet.”
Dex hung up, his alpha instincts warring with his training as he watched Murdock disappear into the night. He wanted to follow openly, to offer protection and support, to let his alpha presence soothe the clearly struggling omega.
But orders were orders.
For now, he would remain in the shadows, a guardian angel with perfect aim and a growing need to protect the omega who didn't know he needed protecting.
Matt Murdock might think he was alone in his fight.
But he wasn't.
Not anymore. And Dex would make sure of that, even if it meant defying his own instincts and remaining hidden in the darkness.