All Roads Lead to Hell *Matt Murdock* (book three of Damned-3a)

7) The Harlem shelter for endangered species

The last time Vera had heard from him could have been around noon. He had texted her it had gone well, but there had been still things he had needed to take care of. She had smiled at the phone and served another customer. They would probably meet at home.

She hadn't freak out when she arrived and he still hadn't been there, not even when she had made late lunch and he had still been nowhere in sight. Time dragged.

But at six, she was getting really nervous. Not having a fit-box lesson (she a cancelled because of the tremors) didn't help her anxiety - all she could do was to wait and she didn't like it. Matt hadn't stop by for his suit, so she assumed his absence in their flat was caused by a civil problem, but that was probably even scarier. He had been assigned with Jessica Jones' case. Vera doubted paperwork took that much of a time to fill in. The problem must have been somewhere else; Jessica Jones was a troublemaker and an enhanced one. The knot in Vera's stomach was getting tighter with each minute. She even considered calling Trish to find out if she knew something, but it felt wrong.

By ten p.m., she was a wreck, her teeth clattering, checking her phone so often she had to charge it as she kept lighting it up over and over, hoping for at least a short message. Nada. She kept trying to call him with no result. By midnight, she forced herself to take a shower and nestled on a couch under two blankets, Matt's warmest hoodie on. Her jaw refused to stop trembling.

Vera would have a morning shift the next- today, which meant getting up at an unholy hour, but sleep was the last thing she was thinking about right now. By two o'clock she made herself tea. At some point, she fell into a restless sleep despite her determination not to. She kept waking up, falling back into unconsciousness before she could even make herself to open her eyes, only intruding light of the billboard outside dancing behind her eyelids.

The second she heard the keys rattling in the lock, she jolted awake, knocking over her unfinished tea she had left on the coffee table. She jumped to her feet, almost falling backwards as her muscles were barely awake. Her heart was pounding. She didn't even bother to put on her glasses, stumbling towards the door - towards Matt's blurry figure. She threw her arms around him with a sob, burying her face in his shoulder.

He squeezed her in a crushing hug, nose nuzzling in her hair and breathing in deeply - something she didn't seem to be able to do due to the force he was holding her with. Vera tried to calm down her rapid breathing, useless gasps for air, tried to stop her body shaking, because Matt was here, she didn't have to worry anymore, but Christ. She wanted to ask him if he was okay, where the fuck he had been, what had happened, but she couldn't find her voice.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. You're okay, I got you," he murmured into her hair, over and over again, like a mantra, and she would swear she heard him say "thank God, you're okay," but she must have been wrong, because Jesus shit why wouldn't she be okay? She wasn't the one who had disappeared for a day without a single hint where and why apart from the information he had met with a woman with super-strength.

Matt seemed to be okay, at least physically, though exhaustion was radiating from him in waves together with endless relief. Vera couldn't stop panting, feeling lightheaded from the oxygen overdose - the fact she knew she was about to pass out if she wouldn't stop wasn't helping. Matt took care of that problem in the easiest way possible. He took her damped face between his palms, smacking their mouths together brutally, making her gasp and feel lightheaded for a whole different reason. It was very efficient.

Vera was finally able to speak when he rested his forehead against hers, eyes closed.

"Are you okay?"