The Devil Next Door (Matt Murdock × fem reader)

Part 5 - Cold Streets

CW: gun violence

It's a cold winter night, the city buzzes around me as I walk the streets of Hell's Kitchen. I pull the collar of my coat closer to my face, shielding it from the bitting air. Nearby screams tear my mind away from thoughts of my warm apartment. Watching the chaos unfold in the street ahead, panic washes over me. Figures frantically rush past and whip around in motion, too fast for me to process what's going on.

Then, I hear gunshots. I duck into an alleyway as screaming citizens run past me. Masked men with guns follow the crowds. The men yell threats at innocent bystanders, I reach into my purse and grip onto my mace. That wouldn't even help if a guy came at me with a gun.
Paralyzed with fear, I stand with my back glued to the frigid wall. A dark figure swoops in, attacking the men. A series of shots are fired, followed by the sounds of grown men shrieking and their bodies slamming against the ground. Within minutes, everything goes quiet. The threat seems to be over.
I brace myself, tears stinging my eyes and abstructing my vision, I cautiously step out of the alleyway. I'm met with the sight of the man who took out the threat, The Devil of Hell's Kitchen. He stands in the middle of the walkway, looming over unconscious men at his feet. The masked man huffs out a breath, recovering from the fight. Frozen in place, I stare ahead at him.

A moment passes before he cocks his head, and turns toward me slightly. His shoulders drop at the realization of me standing there. He makes a move to walk towards me and I stumble back in fear. It was just on instinct, I know I should trust Daredevil but in this moment I'm terrified. He's a hero, he won't hurt me. I watch The Devil closely, his demeanor shifts. Walking towards me, he seems gentle and sensitive.

"Are you alright?" He asks me, his voice low but soft at the same time. I expected him to be harsher. His body language is cautious, like he's in the presence of a wounded animal. I look up at him, confused and frightened. "Yes," the word escapes my lips, barely above a whisper.
Sirens approach, and Daredevil turns his head to face them. "I have to go, but stick around they'll want your statement."
In the next few seconds, I study the masked man's face silently, trying to grasp onto the situation. However, he quickly slips away, leaving me shivering and standing alone in front of the alley as police cars draw closer.

After giving my statement to the police, I'm walking home. My nerves are shot, and my mind is waiting for any sign to start running if needed. My phone starts ringing in my pocket, and I flinch. I squint my eyes shut and take a breath before reaching my shaking hand into my coat pocket. I answer the phone without looking to see who it is.

"Y/N, where are you? I heard on the news that there was a shooting only a few blocks from our building." Matt's concerned voice comes from the speaker. A lump grows in my throat, listening to his familiar voice.
"Matt? I, uhm, I'm almost there."
"Did you get caught up in that shooting, are you alright?" Matt asks frantically, hearing him say this, I feel like I've heard him ask this already.
"Yes, I-I was there. But I'm ok." I sigh shakily into the phone and pick up my pace as I near our apartment building.
"Ok, good, great. I'll see you soon?"
Matt's gentle voice almost allows my guard to come down, but I'm not home yet.
"Yeah, I'll be there soon," I duck my head down and try to conceal the emotion threatening to spew out in my voice. It comes out shaken anyway. "Y/n, please be safe." Tears build in my eyes and I wipe them away quickly. "Y-yeah."
I hang up the phone.

~~~~~

Finally at my apartment, I walk into the hallway. Matt is standing by my door, leaning against the wall. Waiting. He hears me and turns his head to face me, standing up straight. I stop a few feet away and look at him, confused. "You were waiting for me?"
"I wanted to make sure you got home safe. And I know you said you were ok, but...it didn't sound like it."
I would usually tell him he doesn't need to do stuff like this for me. I have no idea how long he's been standing here, could be longer than 15 minutes. But Jesus, tonight, I do need him. I walk over to him without another word. Standing in front of him, I look up at his face. He isn't wearing his glasses, which is new. I've known him for about a month now, and I've never seen his eyes. He turns his head downwards, "looking" at me.

Meeting his soft gaze, my internal wall starts to crumble. I don't know what to say, or do. I feel my eyes sting again, and my hands start to shake. Matt gently takes my right hand in his. "Hey, I'm here. You're safe now," he whispers to me. My wall collapses. I burst into tears and slump into myself, reaching my hand up to cover my face. Matt wraps his arms around me, and I cry into his chest.
I haven't been comforted like this in so long, I can't even remember when, really. I don't like crying in front of people. But right now I don't care. The only thing in my head is crashing static as the tears fall and sobs force their way from my throat.
"Why don't we get you inside, eh?" Matt says close to my ear softly. I choke on my words as I manage a broken-"yes please."

Matt guides me over to his unlocked apartment door, my face still close to his chest. The layout of his apartment is the same as mine, so I walk through the long hallway with as much ease as a sobbing person in a familiar environment can have. Which means of course, that I'm still clutching onto Matt like a lost child.
He walks me over to his couch and I sit down. He leans down and puts his hand on my shoulder, "I'll get you a glass of water, I'm gonna be right back."
I nod at him and them catch myself.
"I just noded." I sniffle out a small laugh.

"I thought you might've," Matt smiles at me and it feels like the first time a man has ever smiled at me. Which isn't true, but Matt's smile is special. He walks over to the kitchen to get my water.
I hear the clinking of a glass on the counter. Then the water running in the sink. And then he's back at my side like he never left.
Matt starts to hand the glass to me, but when his hands brush mine he can feel that I'm still violently shaking, and sets the glass on the coffeetable instead.
He sits down beside me on the couch. He puts his arm around my shoulders and I return to burying myself into him. His free hand makes soothing movements on my upper arm.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He says it so softly that I barely register it.
I sigh shakily into his chest. "There's not much to say. Other th-than I thought I was gonna die in that alleyway.  And then I didn't, a-and I wish time had stopped there or something, so I'd be able to catch my breath. But that's not what happened."

But time doesn't stop, even now it's moving. And Matt is thinking about how much he'd wished he hit those shooters harder. Made them bleed, and made sure that only just enough of them was left to be locked up. The situation reminded him so much of Karen, and how she was always getting into something dangerous, and fell back on him.
She doesn't do that anymore, not that she stays out of danger, God no. Karen Page is always on the front lines of a case, and no one can stop her from that. But she doesn't talk to Matt about it anymore.
It's refreshing to feel trusted again. But he doesn't like that you're so scared and broken.