Chapter 12
I exited the Uber, my camera bag slung over one shoulder and my phone in my other hand as I tried to decide what I wanted to eat for dinner. It was well after midnight and my options were limited but I was starving. The lukewarm piece of chicken that was barely the size of my palm, paired with the three pieces of asparagus and the two fondant potatoes on my plate at the wedding hours ago tonight had not remotely been enough to sustain me for the entirety of the day. It didn’t help that the toasts had been staggered throughout dinner tonight, meaning my only break of the day–dinner service–wasn’t even a break. I’d had to inhale my small bit of food and get back on my feet in order to photograph the best man’s toast. Which also meant my heels were definitely bleeding and torn up, even around the bandages I’d put on before I’d left, from having been on my feet for the full thirteen hour day running around in heels.
In short–I was going to order some unhealthy takeout and have someone deliver it to my apartment while I sat my ass on my couch and kicked my poor aching feet up.
I finished placing the order for my food shortly after stepping into my apartment. With the prospect of food being delivered in about fifteen minutes, I happily slipped out of my heels beside the front door. An audible sigh of relief left me immediately, my shoes no longer cutting into the back of my ankles or crushing my toes. Bending down, I grabbed my heels and shuffled through the living space down my hall to my bedroom.
Making my way into my closet, I deposited my heels back on the shelf. I cringed when I noticed a slight bit of blood now staining the inside of one of the shoes. Dying to get my dress off, I switched my focus to the zipper at the back and reached my arms around, struggling for a moment to grasp it. Briefly I wished Matt was here–he’d have surely gotten me out of the dress in no time. I smiled at the thought, fingers finally grasping the bit of metal and struggling to pull it all the way down. And then I was breathing another sigh of relief when the tight fabric was no longer constricting my chest, letting the material drop to the floor around my feet. I stepped out of it, picking it up off the floor and making my way into my bathroom next. I tossed the dress haphazardly into my laundry basket before settling in front of my sink, placing my phone on the counter and focusing on washing off my makeup next. The entire process took a few minutes to finally wash off the day and it felt amazing to finally be bare-faced again.
As I was applying moisturizer I heard a knock at my front door. Excited that my food was here, I hurried out of my bathroom rubbing the excess moisturizer into my hands as I made my way to answer it. I didn’t work tomorrow so I was looking forward to inhaling the bacon cheeseburger while catching up on some mindless television.
I swung open the door, a large smile on my face to greet the person delivering my food, but it immediately fell from my face when I saw the familiar one staring back at me. Shaggy dark blonde hair and dark green eyes with pupils that looked noticeably dilated caught me off guard, my body freezing up instantly.
“I thought I saw your lights on this time,” he told me.
Terrified, I instantly tried to slam the door on him, but he threw a hand out and prevented it from closing all the way. Pressing his hand firmly into the door he shoved it back open wider. Panic jolted through my body in waves.
“I don’t want you here, Justin,” I stated, voice trembling.
“I just want to talk,” he said placatingly.
I tried hard to push the door shut against him again, but he stepped inside and forcefully shoved past me. My body was quivering as I stepped back towards the door myself, prepared to bolt from the apartment.
“Just talk to me, Emmy bear,” he cooed. “That’s all I want. A few minutes to talk. Then I’ll leave you alone if you want. I swear. I was trying to call you for weeks but you wouldn’t answer. So that’s why I came here.”
“I don’t want to talk to you,” I shot back, trying to sound firmer than I actually managed.
An exaggerated expression of hurt crossed his face and I flinched. My arms wrapped themselves around my chest, hands reaching up and gripping my bare shoulders so tight that my nails were digging into the skin. I could feel a sharp, burning fear building in my chest just beside my racing heart.
“Just close the door and talk to me for a few minutes,” he said, trying to sound soothing. “I’ll stay right over here the whole time. Just for a few minutes.”
My eyes darted to the door beside me nervously–if I tried to bolt would he just grab me and pull me back inside? Would that just make him mad? My eyes darted down the hall to my bedroom next; I’d left my phone on the bathroom counter. I had no way to call the police or anyone for help unless I could get to it. Which meant I needed to either appease him and get him to leave, or appease him long enough that I could find a reasonable excuse to get to my phone and get help.
I forced myself to exhale a shaky breath, trying to calm down so I could focus. Against my better judgment, I untangled one of my clammy hands from my shoulder and carefully closed the apartment door. Maybe the delivery person would be able to call the police for me; they should be showing up soon.
Justin smiled at me as I turned around. The expression on his face was made all the more unsettling with just how blown out his pupils currently were in my well lit kitchen. He must've done a few lines recently before showing up and that thought had me terrified. I had no idea what he wanted or what he would do. In his current state he was unpredictable. My eyes briefly darted towards the floor just beside my kitchen island. My heart rate ticked up even further, my breaths coming in shorter and faster as I remembered the last time he had been here.
“Now Emmy,” Justin said, taking a step towards me. I flinched back and he momentarily stood still. “Why haven’t you been answering my calls? Or my texts? Why won’t you talk to me? You’ve always answered after we hit a rough patch.”
“Not–not anymore,” I stammered out nervously. “I think I made it clear the last time I saw you that I–I was done.”
His face pulled tight into a look of disbelief. “Because of the baby?” he asked me.
And then he was roughly shaking his head and making his way towards me again. I swallowed hard and quickly side-stepped behind my island, trying to put a solid object between us.
He frowned, stopping by the front door. Blocking my only exit.
“Emmy, come on. You were going to have an abortion anyway,” he said. “It’s not a big deal.”
His words felt like a punch to the gut. Not a big deal? Being thrown into a counter repeatedly until I miscarried was not a big deal?
“I never said I was having an abortion,” I shot back.
Justin dramatically rolled his eyes, laughing harshly. He took another step towards me and I took another step back, nails biting harder into my shoulders.
“Em, you weren’t going to have that baby,” he told me matter-of-factly. “It was a mistake. You know I would’ve killed myself if you did. You know that, baby. So you wouldn’t have gone through with it.”
My entire body was shaking; I was so filled with fear to the point that involuntary tremors were wracking through my body and I couldn’t stop the trembling. I wanted him out of here; I wanted a locked door between us. And at this point I was willing to say anything to achieve that.
“Fine,” I forced out. Even my voice was shaking now. “You’re–you’re right. I wouldn’t have done that to you. I–I would’ve had the abortion.” I momentarily snapped my eyes shut, gritting my teeth as I said, “The miscarriage didn’t matter.”
My eyes flew back open, spotting Justin grinning wide.
“See? We’re good aren’t we, baby?” he purred.
Trembling, I nodded my head vigorously, unable to speak. I just needed to get rid of him.
And then a knock came from my front door and I froze up at the expression on Justin’s face. His eyes narrowed as his head gestured towards the door behind him.
“Who’s that?” he asked sharply.
“I–I ordered food,” I stammered. “Just got back from a wedding.”
His expression quickly relaxed again as he nodded. My hopes for getting help fell when he turned, answering the door for me. My eyes darted behind me towards the hallway, wondering if I could sprint down and grab my phone, but before the thought could finish Justin was already closing the door to my apartment, my food order in his hands. I didn’t even want it now.
I watched as he walked the bag over to the island counter, setting it down. His eyes rose, landing expectantly on me.
“Well? Aren’t you going to eat?” he pushed.
“I’ll wait until you go,” I croaked out. “I don’t…don’t want to be rude.”
A slow smile spread on his lips as he leant his elbows against the countertop. “That’s sweet, Emmy bear. But I’m not going anywhere.” My heart instantly dropped to the floor at my feet. “We’re working through things right now, right? Getting back together. I’m not going to leave.”
“But you–”
He shook his head firmly. “I know I said I was going to leave, but look at how well things are going with us talking?” he pressed. “I haven’t seen you in months, baby. I’m not going anywhere. I missed you.”
My mouth felt impossibly dry as I stared back at him, completely at a loss of what to do. I wondered if I could make an excuse to use the bathroom, but then his hand patted the counter space beside him.
“Sit. Eat,” he told me. “I know you’re always starving after work.”
“I–I need to–”
“Eat,” he growled, expression twisting to something dark.
I nodded slowly, carefully shuffling around the kitchen island towards him. His eyes followed my every movement, unnerving me further. I reached under the island and slid one of the benches out from under it, the sound the legs made dragging along the floor intensified in the uncomfortable silence. Hesitantly I sunk down onto the bench, my eyes still focused on Justin beside me in fear. I didn’t want to be this close to him.
I watched as he grabbed the brown, grease-stained bag of food and handed it towards me. I flinched when his hand neared me, involuntarily shifting away from him in my seat. He pulled a face at my reaction to him as he dropped the bag beside me.
“Come on, Emmy, don’t be so dramatic,” he snapped. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
For a moment I sat on the bench, rigid and uncomfortable. My hands had moved to my thighs, slickened with sweat as I gripped the bare skin so tight my nails were digging in crescent shapes.
"Relax, Emmy," Justin said, sidling over towards me.
He placed his hands on my shoulders and I curled in on myself, head lowering down to my chest as my heart slammed wildly into my ribcage. His fingers roughly dug into my shoulders as he attempted to massage the tensed muscles under his hands. It was anything but soothing.
"So I'm thinking, I'll forgive you for ignoring me for those few months," Justin began, hands still sharply digging into my muscles. "We get back together. You can come out to one of our shows next week. Maybe the after party? Come see everyone again." He leaned forward beside my ear and my eyes closed as he whispered into it, "I'll even eat you out tonight, you know, to mark us getting back together. What do you say baby?"
"I say you're going to be lucky if you don't need a hospital stay tonight," a dark voice growled from behind.
Justin was abruptly ripped from off my back and I gasped, turning on the bench to see Daredevil gripping him by the throat. His mouth was pulled back in a dangerous snarl, his teeth bared like fangs. One of his gloved fists swiftly buried itself in Justin's stomach. Justin's knees buckled at the impact as he exhaled a sharp breath, but Daredevil kept a tight hold on his throat, pinning him to the wall behind him. Justin began sputtering and choking when he briefly recovered, but the gloved fist drew back again and landed into Justin's temple with a solid thwack of his gloved fist on bone. Justin wailed at the impact, his hands clawing at Daredevil's gloved hand still pressing on his throat. Blood was pouring out of a gash that had opened on the side of his face from the hit.
Growling and roaring, fuming with rage, Daredevil pulled his fist back and flung it forth again, right into Justin’s nose. I heard a sharp crack around his screams and when Daredevil's fist drew back, blood was gushing from Justin's nose. My hands flew to my mouth, horrified and unsure of what to make of the entire situation. I was grateful Daredevil had shown up–very grateful he'd broken the lock on my window last weekend–and I felt a bit of satisfaction at Justin getting his ass kicked after everything he'd put me through, but I didn't need him a bloody pulp on my apartment floor. And with the vicious growls rumbling out of Daredevil's throat, I was afraid he might take it too far and kill Justin.
When Daredevil pulled his fist back again, Justin still choking, I slid off the bench and darted over. Acting on impulse I reached out, grabbing Daredevil's arm. He tensed beneath my touch, head quickly snapping in my direction and startling me at the abrupt movement. It took him a second before his body relaxed, the hard lines around his mouth softening a little.
"I don’t–don't need him dead," I whispered, hands gently squeezing his arm. "You don't do that. That's not you."
He stared at me for a long moment, and for some reason tonight the red lenses in his mask looked dark and venomous. Slowly he nodded once before he readjusted his grip on my barely conscious ex.
"You're a worthless piece of shit," Daredevil spat at Justin, now holding him up one-handed by his blood-soaked shirt collar. "And if I ever hear you're around her again–ever hear you're trying to talk to her–you're going to beg me to kill you. I will break every bone in both of your goddamn hands, and then I'll break your knee caps. And if that's not enough, I'll break your fucking jaw so no one will have to listen to your mouth running bullshit ever again. And if you really make me mad," he continued, voice lowering to a threatening rumble, "I'll break your spine and you'll be paralyzed for the rest of your pathetic life." He leaned forward, getting into Justin's face and snarling out, "Doyouhearme?"
Justin groaned, his head rolling in my direction. Daredevil shook him hard, Justin's head immediately rolling back along on his shoulders and away from me.
"Don't you fucking look at her!" Daredevil roared. "Do you fucking understand me?"
"Yes," Justin rasped out. "Fuck, man, she fucking you or something?"
In the blink of an eye Daredevil had thrown his fist back into Justin's face again. Justin let out a low groan, his head hanging at an odd angle. Daredevil released his grip and Justin dropped to the floor on his knees.
"Don't fucking talk about her like that," he snapped. "Get the fuck up." Justin tried to struggle to his feet, but Daredevil grew impatient, yanking him up by the shirt. "Get out of here before I break your legs next. And don’t you ever come back–I'll know if you do.” He leaned in, teeth still barred as he growled out, “Trust me, I'd love a reason to hear your bones snap beneath my hands."
Without a word, Justin staggered past me and I stepped out of his reach, heart still racing in my chest. He opened the front door of my apartment and disappeared silently down the hall. I bolted forward, slamming the door shut and locking it. My body was still violently shaking as I leaned into the solid door, my eyes closing tight as tears threatened to spill. My mind was too wracked with fear to comprehend what happened or what I was feeling just yet, still trying to calm down.
"Are you okay?"
His question came out rough but quiet. My head turned, forehead sliding along the door as I did. Daredevil hadn't moved from where he'd stood, his shoulders heaving visibly. He was staring at me with his head canted to the left side.
My mouth opened and a sob fell out before I could answer. I slid down the door, tears finally falling. Daredevil took a step towards me but then stopped, hesitating.
"Is it okay if I approach you?" he asked slowly, gloved hands raised to show he meant no harm.
I nodded slowly, curled in on myself against the front door. Daredevil very gradually made his way towards me, hands still raised. He stopped a few feet away and very slowly sunk to the floor beside me.
"He didn't hurt you, did he?" Daredevil's gravely voice asked.
"No," I whispered.
"He's leaving now, I can hear him," he assured me. "Don't think he'll come back after that, but I'll keep an eye on your place for a bit longer to be sure."
He sighed, shoulders slumping as he watched me for a moment. My body was still shaking from the entire situation, tears were falling faster now that I was safe enough to cry.
"I'm sorry I wasn't here before he could show up," Daredevil whispered. "I was a few blocks away when I heard him here. I tried to get here as fast as I could–I didn't want him to ever get that close to you. I–"
Without a thought I flung myself forward, abruptly cutting him off when my arms wrapped around his neck and I buried my face into the armor on his chest. There was the smallest fraction of a second that passed before his arms wrapped back around me carefully, his legs spreading to make more room for me against him.
"Thank you," I breathed out.
"I told you I wouldn't let him hurt you, Emily," he whispered. And then his arms tightened around me, voice coming out a dark snarl. "He deserved worse, though. Much more than he got. Should have broken his hands for ever hurting you with them. Should've left him bloody and unconscious in a dumpster like the filth he is. Let him bleed out."
My arms squeezed around his neck, my face still buried into his chest. "That's not you. You don't kill, Devil. He's not worth it. You're better than that."
His head lowered, his chin resting carefully along the top of my head. He readjusted his legs, slowly drawing them in and wrapping themselves around me. He didn't stop his shifting until his own body was curled over mine as much as he was physically able, his own body like a protective shield around mine. It was oddly comforting.
"Your adrenaline is slowly dropping," he told me. "That's why you're shaking so hard. It should stop in a few minutes."
"How do you know?" I asked him.
"I can smell it, but I can also hear the change in your heartbeat. It's relaxing slowly as well," he explained. "Won't be pumping it through you as much as it was a bit ago."
I felt warm and safe in his protective embrace. I did notice my body gradually coming down from the shock and the fear like he said. It felt strange being comfortable and feeling safe in his arms after watching him beat another person in my apartment; maybe other people would have been afraid, but even after that nightmare I'd had about him the other week, seeing him come to my rescue and then being so gentle with me afterwards reminded me that I knew him. Daredevil would never lay his hands on me, no matter how often he was out bloodying his fists, he'd never use them on me.
"I don't know what I'd do if you hadn't shown up," I admitted. "My phone was all the way in my bathroom, I was trying to find a way to get it."
"Shh, it's okay," Daredevil assured me. "Don't worry about it, sweetheart, it's over. He's gone."
I sighed softly; he was right. It was over now and Justin was gone. And after the threat and the beating he left with, even I didn't think he'd be dumb enough to bother me again. It wasn't worth dwe–
My brain abruptly halted its train of thought and I stiffened in Daredevil's arms. I felt him tense under me at my shift in demeanor.
"What?" he asked cautiously.
I swallowed hard, heart rate slowly climbing back up. "What did you just say?"
"Not to worry about it?" he asked carefully. "He's gone?"
I slowly untangled my arms from around his neck, pulling my head from off of his chest. His chin removed itself from its place atop my head at the movement, curiously staring down at me as I gazed up into his mask, scrutinizing the red lenses. And then my eyes dropped to his mouth.
"You–you called me sweetheart," I said slowly.
His mouth immediately twisted into a frown but he didn't deny it. I could see the tension growing in his shoulders.
"Matt?" I whispered out.
With a slow exhale, Daredevil's arms released me. His gloved hands reached up towards his face, carefully grabbing the edge of his mask. My breath died in my throat as he very slowly slid the helmet from his head with one hand, pulling back the black material underneath it with his other. My mouth dropped open, a sharp gasp flying out before my hands flew to my face.
Matt's sightless gaze was staring nervously along my chin, his brows creased in worry. His dark brown hair was a disheveled mess and there was a slight sheen of sweat along his forehead. His lips were trembling, still pulled down into a frown at the corners.
My hands were still covering my mouth, my eyes darting around Matt's face and trying to make it make sense that he was in Daredevil's suit. That he was Daredevil. I could feel tears pricking at my eyes, could feel my heart hammering in my chest yet again tonight.
"Emily, please say something," Matt begged.
I inhaled a loud, deep, shuddering breath. My mind was still racing. I'd spent this past week trying to figure out if Matt and Daredevil were the same person. I'd been so focused on trying to connect the dots, so focused on trying to figure out what I could ask or what seemed to relate, that I didn't even think to ask the most important question to myself.
How would I feel if Matt was Daredevil?
"Em," he tried again, his face twisting into a pained expression. "Please. Please say something. Yell at me. Hit me. Something. I can't–I can't stand your silence when your body is screaming at me right now."
“I can't–" I started, shaking my head and swallowing the lump of mixed emotions swelling inside of me. "Matt, I can't even…can't even begin to–to comprehend that thought coming from…from you."
He winced at my words, his lips trembling more visibly. He was clearly trying to fight back his own emotions right now, and normally that would trigger the empathetic part of me, but right now I couldn't even think.
"All this time," I breathed out, voice breaking, "all this time and it was…you? The whole time?" Matt nodded slowly, his eyes pinching tight with emotion. "You've been…lying to me for years," I continued. And then I gasped again, eyes going wide as Matt flinched at the sound. "I told Daredevil so much…"
Another realization hit me as I remembered how I'd practically begged Daredevil to kiss me twice–and it was Matt the whole time. And then I groaned when I remembered the drunken confessions about my terrible sex life and slid away from him on the floor quickly, burying my face in my hands.
"Emily–"
"I thought I was talking to a stranger!" I shot out, cutting him off and groaning again. "Fuck, Matt. I told you personal shit!"
"And I never judged you for any of it, as Matt or Daredevil," he reassured me immediately.
My hands raked themselves through my hair, tugging hard at the strands. "I thought we told each other everything?" I asked, hurt in my tone.
Matt wiped a gloved hand roughly across his eyes. My jaw tightened at the sight of tears on his face when his hand moved, running its way through his own hair.
"Em, Daredevil always told you from the beginning that he couldn't tell you who he was. We had talked about it a few times," he reminded me gently. "You understood it was safer for yourself not to know. That's why I never told you as Matt. You had always been fine with it."
“But for two years?" I asked him. And then I held up a hand, roughly shaking my head as something else crossed my mind. “How do you…do what you do if you’re blind?” I blinked at him a few times, my mind unable to comprehend everything. “Because I’ve seen you literally scale the side of buildings. Jump across rooftops. Walk me home from bars. Beat the shit out of people. How the…how?”
He sighed, rubbing a hand across his mouth. “I told you I have heightened senses,” he pointed out. “I’m blind, but all of my other senses work together to help me…see the world, in a way. That’s how I…do everything.”
My stomach churned as I realized more things, so many thoughts racing through my mind now. “So that means…you’ve always known whenever I lied to you?” I asked him. “Always been able to read me?”
He nodded his head slowly, a pinched look on his face. “Yeah, I have. I try to block out as much as I can but…” he winced. “I can’t block out everything.”
“There…there was a time back when I first met The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen–you, I guess,” I began, hesitant. “You told me you could tell when someone was attracted to you. Pick up on the cues from their body.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “I can.”
“So you always knew I was attracted to you?” I asked him carefully.
He shrugged. “I mean your body reacted like that, but you never flirted. Not with me. You never said anything. You were always with Justin until you…moved. I tried to respect your relationship.”
“But you flirted as Daredevil,” I pointed out.
“I tried not to,” he admitted, a sheepish look on his face. “But then you flirted back. Even when you and Justin were together. And I–I couldn’t resist. I thought I was only hurting myself doing it.”
"I can guarantee you wanted my assistance that morning too, sweetheart."
The comment he made at Josie’s last weekend flashed through my mind. I licked my lips nervously, remembering a drunk flirtatious question I’d asked The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen once, years ago when he’d told me he could tell I was attracted to him. My breath came in short as I remembered the conversation.
“Okay, so you can tell when a woman finds you attractive with your weird superpowers,” I said. “Sweaty palms, racing heart, short of breath, all of that. You say you smell pheromones, too.”
“Yeah, and for the record,” he answered with a smirk, “you’re exhibiting all of those right now.”
I rolled my eyes, grinning. “Okay, but I can literally see every single one of your abs through that shirt. So…that’s not really fair.” He huffed out a laugh at my response and I shook my head. “You’re a cocky little Devil, aren’t you?”
His smirk only grew under the dark black mask. My head tilted to the side, eyes narrowing curiously as I bit my lip.
“What?” he asked. “I can tell you want to ask something.”
“So if you can read all of that,” I began coyly, “does that mean you can also tell when…someone’s turned on?”
He chuckled softly in the darkened alley, shaking his head briefly. He jutted his chin towards me, cocky smirk still on his face, as he answered. “You afraid I'll know just how attractive you find me, Emily? Why are you so curious about that?”
I shrugged, feigning innocence. “Just trying to gauge the extent of your…abilities,” I teased.
He chewed his bottom lip between his teeth, grinning. My eyes were trapped in a trance focused on his mouth.
“Yeah,” he eventually answered. “I can hear the uh, shift in blood flow, I suppose. Smell a woman’s–” he cleared his throat lightly, “–arousal. It’s uh, been a distracting if occasionally useful advantage.”
“So you…you also knew over these past few weeks,” I began slowly, nervously. Uncomfortably. “You knew every time I was…was turned on?”
His head lowered, gaze no longer meeting mine. I felt my heart jump in my chest, already anticipating his answer.
“Yes,” he replied.
I grimaced, immediately rising up to my feet and running my hands through my hair as I paced the length of my island. I felt embarrassed and confused and panicked. There was just so much Matt knew about me that I had no idea he even knew. It felt like too much. As I turned and paced the length of the island towards him, he gradually rose from the floor.
“Emily, I–”
I threw out a hand towards him, cutting him off. My mind was too loud, too many thoughts and too many questions were begging for answers all at once. I didn’t know which ones to ask. I turned and paced my way away from him before stopping halfway down the island, spinning back on my heels abruptly towards him.
"So weeks ago you–you tell me you have feelings for me,” I began carefully, licking my lips nervously again as I kept my eyes on his face. “And we've been spending all this time together, trying to figure things out between us, and all this time you've just been keeping this huge secret about yourself and your life from me? How was that ever going to work, Matt?" I asked him desperately, tears stinging at my eyes. “Were you just going to keep me in the dark forever?”
"I have been trying to figure out how to tell you, Em," he admitted softly. "You deserved to know before things went too far with us. I just didn't know how to do it without hurting you. Believe me, sweetheart, I never wanted to hurt you." He huffed out a sigh as he shook his head. "I thought you'd already figured it out this week with your questions at Mad Goat and then last night when you saw Daredevil again."
“I suspected,” I confessed. “But I thought it was a ridiculous speculation.”
“I’m sorry, Emily,” he apologized, taking a step towards me. He looked so tortured, his sightless gaze scanning its way around me. “I didn’t want you to find out like this. I swear.”
“So you–you go out and do this every night?” I asked him carefully. “Put yourself in danger every night?”
“Not usually every night, no,” he answered. “Not since Fisk was arrested. I’ve just been out every night mainly checking to make sure your ex didn’t bother you. Usually I go out a few times a week.”
The image in my mind of a happy, healthy relationship with Matt started to slowly fade in front of my eyes. Tears burned at them instead as all those times I imagined lazy nights in after work cuddled up on one of our couches before heading to bed faded from view. No long nights tangled up in the sheets together. No tuxedos and churches, no wedding dresses, no baby bumps. Was it even possible to have any of that with Matt running around as Daredevil risking his life on the streets of Hell’s Kitchen?
Tears streamed down my cheeks, leaving burning trails in their wake. Matt’s face tightened up instantly, probably able to distinguish my own heartache with his senses. That thought only pushed more tears out.
“Emily,” he choked out, taking another step forward. “Emily, I’m sorry.”
“Where–where was this going, Matty?” I stammered out. I could taste the salty tears on my lips as I spoke. “To a relationship?”
I could see tears shining damp on his own cheeks and somehow that only made mine come faster. He nodded swiftly at my question, taking another step forward.
“Yes,” he answered firmly. “Yes, Emily, that’s what I wanted.”
“To what end, Matt?” I asked him forcefully.
He halted at my question, head tilting to the side as his eyes tightened. “What do you mean?” he asked, confused.
I rubbed the palms of my hands across my cheeks, trying to staunch the flow of tears, but they just kept coming. “We eventually get into a relationship and then what?” I pressed. “If things went well does–does this go anywhere?”
He stiffened, his back straightening. “You–you mean, living together? Marriage?”
“Possibly kids,” I added. “Yes, Matt. I–I want those things. Someday. Eventually. But how does that fit into Daredevil’s life?” A bitter laugh fell out of me, one that caught on another sob that had Matt’s face twisting back up into another broken-hearted expression. “You just going to disappear for your nightly patrols while I stay up half the night wondering if you will come home?” I swallowed hard, shaking my head. “I mean–do you even want those things?”
His lips parted, mouth opening for a moment, but nothing came out before he closed it again. I bit down hard on my lip, flinching as I nodded.
“I think you should go,” I whispered.
“Em, wait,” he said quickly. “I–I’ve never really thought about those things. Never had a reason to. Never had anyone I might want them with to even think about it.”
“Well I have thought about it,” I whispered, a hollow ache hitting me hard in the chest. “And I know I want those things.”
“Emily, just–just give me some time,” he begged. “Let me explain. Please?”
“Please just go, Matt," I pleaded, voice breaking as more tears came. "I don’t want to do this anymore tonight.”
I felt sick to my stomach watching his expression shift like I’d just slapped him. And then his jaw clenched as the muscles ticked in his cheeks. He nodded slowly, backing away a few steps. I watched his gloved hands pull the black material back up over his head before he placed Daredevil’s mask back over his face. Red lenses stared back at me and I bit my tongue.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said, voice strained.
And then he turned, making his way abruptly to the window in my living room he’d slipped inside a little while ago. I watched as he climbed back through it, standing on my fire escape and pushing the glass back down. He hesitated for a moment before he jumped over the railing and disappeared.
Heartache tore its way out of my throat like a howl and I swung my hand across the island countertop, roughly sweeping the uneaten bag of takeout off of the counter. It flew to the floor spilling its contents across the hardwood. Tears were pouring down my face as I sunk down to my feet, burying my face in my hands. My heart felt like it had been torn to shreds and then shoved back into my chest, tattered and maimed.
I was in love with Matthew Murdock, and maybe he felt something similar, but how could we ever work? Was it possible for us to have a future with him as Daredevil?
Curled on the cold hardwood, face buried in my hands, I wept. Crying for what I thought was just within reach but felt like had just been so brutally ripped from my hands. The pain on Matt’s face was seared into my mind and I wailed miserably, hating how I’d hurt him, too. I pounded a fist on my floor and a searing pain shot through my hand. I cried out in surprise, my knuckles stinging. With a choked sob I slammed it onto the floor again. And again. And again.