Meeting Matt, Foggy, and Karen at Josie's was always something. You practically crash through the doors, much to the excitement of your little group.
"Thank god you're here!" Karen exclaims, pulling you into a tight hug, "These two suck."
A small smile graces Matt's face, "An exaggeration." He pulls you into a hug as well and you relish in the contact.
"An extreme exaggeration. We just want her to go on a date. That's all," Foggy chimes in, throwing an arm around you and tugging you close.
"Oh, you definitely should!" You smirk, tipping the beer Josie brought over in Karen's direction.
The smirk that lights up Karen's face is dangerous, "I will if you will."
You groan and silently pledge to drink a lot if that's what tonight is gonna be filled with, "Touché."
The rest of the night consists of loud music and just a little too much beer. By the time you all move outside, you're slightly buzzed and pretty tired.
"Are you sure I can't walk you home? Hell's Kitchen isn't safe. Like at all," Matt explains, hand lightly resting against the small of your back.
"I'll be good Matt. I'm right down the street and besides," You place a hand on his shoulder and squeeze, "I think I have a pocket knife in my purse."
"You think?"
"Sorry, not helping," You press a quick kiss to his cheek, "I'll be fine. Goodnight."
"Night," He replies, hesitant to pull his hand away from your back.
"Night!" You yell down the street to Foggy and Karen only to be met with giggles and various incomprehensible shouts.
You give Matt one last look before you head down the street in the opposite direction. Should you have had Matt walk with you? Definitely. Would you have felt bad that you were forcing your blind friend to walk twenty minutes in the opposite direction just 'cause you're paranoid? Without a doubt. So, you hike your bag up your shoulder and forego your headphones, senses on overdrive as you keep a lookout for skeevy dudes. The thought of Daredevil is a fleeting comfort.
You make it a good portion of the way home before you start to feel sick. Maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's the paranoia, but if you don't make it home soon you don't know what will happen. You're about five minutes away when all hell breaks loose. You're being shoved around before you even have time to think.
"Fuck," You mutter under your breath as someone much larger than you jostles you about. Your bag is thrown from your shoulder and you curse yourself. A crystal clear image of your pocket knife flits through your mind, sitting neatly on the dresser in your bedroom. You don't have it.
"Please," You sputter out weakly, "I don't have anything. For fuck's sake."
You're pushed to the ground then and you can feel the gravel tear at your knees, tears threatening to spill.
"Please."
You start to cry then and god, are you nauseous. You should've listened to Matt. You can hear the two guys bicker about what their next move is. Fuck. Just when they start to come to an agreement, a flash of movement sends one of them flying against the wall. Daredevil. You still can't really see past the tears, but you can vaguely make out the horns. Thank fuck.
You shakily stand, retrieving your bag from where it skidded away from you, watching as Daredevil bashes one of the men against the dumpster.
"Get out of here. Now," Daredevil's voice is a lot deeper than you would've expected. Kinda scary, you think. You don't need to be told twice. You race out of the alley and down the rest of the street to your apartment building. You don't stop running until you reach your floor and shut the door behind you. You drop your bag, kick your shoes off, and just cry. You grip the back of the couch with all of your might and sob. God. You manage to compose yourself for a mere moment before the sight of your bloodied knees and bruised arms sends you into hysterics again. The relative silence of your apartment is broken up by the sound of gentle tapping on your window.
"What the fuck?" You question, voice still heavy with tears. You cautiously make your way towards the window.
"What the fuck!?"
Daredevil is sat on your fire escape like it's not the weirdest fucking thing in the entire world.
You muscle the window open and he's quick to climb in.
"God, I had to check on you. Are you alright?"
"Matt?" You ask, completely incredulous, "What the fuck!?"
He tugs at the mask and drops it on the table near your couch, "You didn't really think I was gonna let you walk alone, did you?"
"Well, Matt, I didn't know you were fucking Daredevil! What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"I saved your ass back there," He retorts, concern still evident on his face.
"I'm well aware, but what the actual fuck?"
He gives you a once over. "You're hurt."
"I know."
"Let me help. Please," Matt places his hand on your back and leads you down the hallway towards your bathroom. You don't have the energy to fight it.
He lifts you up to sit on the counter and his hands hover at your waist before he goes digging for your first aid kit. He makes quick work of patching you up, carefully disinfecting the gashes and securing bandages on them.
"I know it'll hurt in the morning, but you should be all healed in no time."
"Thank you Matt," You reply, sparing a glance at his face before looking back down at your hands, "for everything."
He places a finger under your chin and drags your head up, "You never have to thank me. Not for this."
You two look at each other for a long moment before he adds, "Come visit me at work tomorrow?"
You smile and give him a brief nod, "Yeah, totally."
He returns the smile and presses a lingering kiss to your forehead.
"Call me if you need me."
"Will do."
He slips out through the window and you're left with an odd feeling in your stomach. Tomorrow should be interesting.
