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Who's a fan of hurt/comfort fic? Get your fix here...

Part 3, Chapter 18

Summary: After the events of S3, Matt Murdock is trying to once again balance life as a lawyer and a vigilante. But he’s been scarred by loss and betrayal - will a mysterious new neighbour help him heal? Or will her secrets drag him back into the darkness? Notes: This is a slow burn romance with an original female character, told in 4 parts. There is mystery, intrigue, action/violence and angst - all the good stuff!

Also available on AO3 and Wattpad

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PART 3

Chapter 18

“I was under that control for most of my adult life, Matt. And I’ve seen what its like from the other side, as well. I won’t ever let it happen again. I won’t ever allow myself to become that…soulless killer again.

I’ll do whatever it takes to stop it. To…end it.”

Calina’s words from all those months ago echoed through Matt’s mind as the elevator made the excruciatingly slow ascent to the top of the building. His forehead rested against the panelled wall of the car, his hands braced either side, as he chanted a prayer under his breath:

“Please.”

“Please be alive.”

“Please.”

Her scent swirled around the small, enclosed space, proving his hunch had been correct - she’d taken this trip up to the roof. The familiar, beloved fragrance was layered with thick, suffocating adrenaline, and his heart ached for the terror she was experiencing right now.

“Please be alive.”

“Please.”

With a soft ‘ding’ the elevator stopped. Matt exploded off the side of the car and rammed his way through the barely opened doors. He sprinted onto the rooftop, yelling as loud as he could. “Calina!”

Nothing.

A soul-tearing, horrifying nothing was the response.

He darted around a corner, dodging the furniture and plant pots strewn about the sky high garden, as he searched for any sign of her. “Callie, answer me!”

Another corner. Her scent clung to the molecules in the air, but they swirled about in the eddies of the breeze, preventing him from pinpointing her direction. He kept searching, but he was quickly running out of ground to cover and there was still no sign of her. He kept his senses trained to the rooftop itself, purposefully ignoring the stone parapet around the edge. He didn’t want to have to look over the side, to the ground hundreds of feet below. He couldn’t bear that, he wasn’t strong enough-

He froze as a faint whimper reached his ears, almost drowned out by the sound of his own pounding heart. He forced his body under control, and strained to find the source of the noise. He crept around a large sofa, the furniture covered by a tarp that rustled and flapped in the wind…and there she was. Tucked in a ball, her head pressed against her bent knees as she rocked back and forth.

He crouched down in front of her. “Callie?” he called softly. This close he could taste the salt of her tears and could hear the hitch in her breath as she cried. He wanted to gather her in his arms and hold her tight to him, but he had a feeling that would be the wrong approach. There was something so…brittle…in the way she held herself. As if a sudden move could send her off the deep end.

So instead he reached out to gently stroke the top of her head. At his touch, she gasped and scooted backwards, trying to wedge herself further between the sofa and the brick parapet of the roof.

She didn’t fight. She didn’t try to attack. His strong, capable Callie was reduced to a cowering, sobbing wreck, and it nearly broke him.

“Sweetheart, its me. It’s Matt,” he crooned, his voice thick with emotion.

“No, no, no,” she whispered. “You can’t be here.”

He thought again of her greatest fear - the mind control serum. Of being forced to become a soulless killer again, a threat to him and the other people she cared about. “You won’t hurt me, Callie,” he said, trying to put her mind at ease. “You’re not under their control again. It’s just the fear pheromone. You got hit, baby, but you’re going to be okay.” He sat down beside her, careful not to touch her again, and continued his litany of reassuring words, praying that they were penetrating the fog of terror she was wrapped in.

“You’re okay. You’re you. You’re my Calina. You’re not under their control, do you hear me, sweetheart? You’re you, and you’re safe.”

———

Matt guided Calina through her apartment door and locked it behind them, exhaled with the relief of finally being home.

He’d spent over an hour up on that rooftop with her, talking her through the waning effects of the pheromone haze. At first there’d been no response - she’d just sat there in that protective ball, head tucked against her knees, quietly crying. Then at some point she’d lifted her head, wiped away her tears and turned to look at him. “Matt?” she'd asked in a whisper, her voice so tentative and scared.

He’d pressed a kiss against her damp cheek, lingered there to breathe in her scent. “Yes, I’m here. Are you back with me, sweetheart?”

She nodded, slowly. Then dropped her head against his shoulder, as if the strength to hold it up had deserted her.

He let her rest there for a few movements, before getting to his feet and pulling her up beside him. “Come on,” he told her. “You’ll freeze if you stay out here any longer. Let’s get you home.”

Now they were here, safe and sound. They hadn’t spoken during the taxi ride home - in fact she hadn’t said a single word after whispering his name on that rooftop. She’d just clutched his hand in a death grip and stayed close to his side.

She was still silent as he led her into the bedroom. He removed her jacket and placed a kiss on her forehead. “Wait here.”

He flicked the light switch for her small bathroom and started running the water for a bath. He found some flowery soapy stuff in the cupboard under the sink and dumped a load of it into the water then returned to Calina. She was standing exactly where he left her, and her silent, dazed demeanour caused a pang of unease deep in his gut.

He pushed it aside and helped her undress. All the while, he kept talking to her, using the same reassuring tone he’d deployed on the rooftop. “A bath should help you warm up - you were sitting on that cold concrete too long.” He gently pulled her sweater over her head and rubbed the chilled skin of her arms. Her camisole followed, then her jeans. He crouched down to tug the tight denim off her legs, and she rested a hand on his shoulder to balance. It was the first voluntary move she’d made in a while, and it gave him hope that she was coming around. He glanced up. “You doing okay, sweetheart?”

She nodded. “Yes. Thank you.” Her voice was scratchy from all the crying, but it was the most wonderful sound he’d ever heard.

He tipped his head forward to rest briefly against her stomach, the relief making him weak. “Good. That’s good. Now let’s get you warm.” He led her into the bathroom, helped her out of her underwear and guided her into the bubbly, frothy water. She sank down with a sigh, once more sitting with her arms wrapped around her knees.

He knelt down by the side of the tub and used a sponge to squeeze some of the warm water over her shoulders. Steam filled the small room, and for several long minutes there was no sound but the dripping of the faucet and the gentle lap of water as Matt tenderly bathed her exposed skin. As he did so, she reached out to stroke her hand through his hair. He could feel a tiny tremor running through her fingers, and her movements were so hesitant - as if she feared he’d disappear beneath her touch.

He leaned into the caress, turning his head to press a kiss against her wrist. “I’m here,” he whispered.

She shook her head slowly. “But you weren’t,” she whispered back. Then she started crying again. She covered her face with both hands and cried silent, devastated tears.

He couldn’t bear it. He quickly got to his feet, stripped out of his clothes and stepped into the tub. He sank down behind her, his long legs encasing hers and his arms forming a cocoon around her. He held her against his chest as she weeped, pressing his lips against the side of her head, her neck - everywhere he could reach. “I’m here, baby,” he murmured between kisses. “I’m right here.”

When the tears eventually dried up, she sank back against him. “I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “It just hit me all again. Must be some residual effect from the pheromone.”

“What hit you?” he asked carefully. “What happened tonight?”

She took a deep breath and recounted the story. “I was sitting on the bench waiting for you, but there was a commotion further down the High Line. A man was running along the pathway and he collided with somebody else. He was carrying a briefcase and it went flying. When it hit the ground a load of canisters spilled out and I recognised them straightaway. He gathered them all up but as he was stuffing them back in his briefcase, he accidentally sprayed himself. I decided to follow him-”

Matt growled under his breath.

“What?” she asked, defiant. “You’d have done the same.”

“That’s different. You should have waited for me. Or called me.”

“I did call you. You never answered.”

Matt winced as he remembered his phone vibrating as he observed his target.

“Why didn’t you answer?”

He took a deep breath, then came clean. “I was following a lead. I scented the pheromone on someone, and I followed him. He had his own briefcase. My guess is, it was full of money and he was supposed to meet up with the guy with the briefcase full of the drugs and make an exchange.”

“So you did lie to me. I had a feeling the hot chocolate thing was bullshit.”

“If you suspected that, why did you let me go?”

“‘Let’ you? I’m not your keeper, Matt. I’m supposed to be your partner. And partners don’t lie to each other.”

He winced again. “I know. I’m sorry. I- I don’t know why I didn’t tell you the truth.”

He’d been cursing that very decision all night - from the moment he’d left Calina on that bench. And especially now, when he knew the full consequences of that choice. “I’m not used to this. To a true partnership,” he said, trying to explain. “When I was with Elektra, she wasn’t interested in my life as Matt Murdock. And when I dated Karen, she didn’t even know about my other life as Daredevil. I’ve never had this before, where I can be completely myself. And I guess I was still trying to compartmentalise.”

“What do you mean?”

“The way I saw it, I was on a date, with you, as Matt Murdock. It didn’t seem…right…to spoil that with Daredevil stuff. But I couldn’t ignore the pheromone scent either…” His voice trailed off, the justification seeming weak to his ears.

But it was the truth, as warped and strange as it sounded. He still felt the need to protect Calina from his other life, to shield her from the mess and the darkness and the complications of it.

Calina took one of his hands and squeezed it. “I get it. We’re both still stumbling through this. Just…don’t do it again. Please. I never want you to think that I’d be angry or annoyed about you needing to be Daredevil. I’m in love with him, as much as I’m in love with Matt Murdock.”

He squeezed her hand in return, her words meaning more to him than she could ever know. “Thank you. And could you please…,” he struggled to find the right way to say what he wanted.

“What?”

“Could you try not to take risks with your life, like tonight.”

He felt her stiffen in her arms. “It wasn’t a risk. I was just following one inept courier.”

“Not so inept - he managed to spray you with the pheromone.”

“That wasn’t my fault - I was keeping my distance and being discreet. But the pheromone hit that he took must have made him paranoid. He kept running in and out of traffic as if he had the devil chasing him. I had to get closer to him to try to keep him alive - I knew we needed a new lead on the case-”

“It was too much of a risk!” He could feel his fear for her safety suddenly morph into anger.

“It was my risk to take! And yes, I misjudged - I didn’t know he had a spare canister in his hand - but you’re acting like I’m some clueless civilian when this isn’t even in the top 10 riskiest things I’ve done!”

“But why? Why did you willingly put yourself in danger like that? I thought you wanted out of this kind of life!”

She pulled out of his arms, and twisted her upper body around to face him. “I've only ever wanted the choice! I’d be happy to never fight again, but I saw something wrong and I chose to try to help.”

He could hear the faint squeak of her wet hands as she clenched the sides of the porcelain tub. He could hear her heart pounding, and her skin was flushed - from anger, as much as the heat of the room. And even though he was so relieved to see her back to her normal self, he hated that he’d made her mad, when all he wanted to do was comfort her.

He leaned forward and kissed her shoulder. “I’m sorry.” He ran his hands down her arms to free them from the death-grip she had on the tub. Then he eased her back against him, holding her tighter than before. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, pressing his lips to her temple.

She let out a shuddery breath, then nestled against him. “I guess we’re both feeling a bit on edge.”

He nodded, his head still pressed against the side of hers. He could feel the damp tendrils of her hair tickling his skin, and with every inhale and exhale her slick back moved a tiny bit against his chest. Her scent filled the room, warm and potent from the bath. His senses were stimulated by nothing but Calina, and he wanted to stay in this safe, closed room with her forever.

Where the outside world could never harm her again.

Although speaking of harm…he swallowed and asked the question he was dreading the answer to. “What did the drug do to you, sweetheart? What did it make you feel?”

It was her turn to swallow, the sound harsh and ragged to his ears. “It was…it was horrible. So overwhelming. So all encompassing. ”

“The fear?”

She shook her head. “It wasn’t fear. It- it was grief.”

He frowned. “What do you mean?��

“I don’t know if we’ve been looking at this pheromone from the wrong angle all along, or if this is some new formulation…but I didn’t feel scared or afraid. Instead, it just took my worst fear and made it real. It made me live through it. And I felt it, in every fibre of my body. Down to my bones.”

“I don’t understand. What did you feel?”

“Grief. For you.” She twisted around again, fully this time, until she was lying on top of him, her breasts pressed against his chest, and their hearts beating against each other. She reached up to stroke her fingers down his cheek. “You died, Matt. All of a sudden, I had this knowledge of your death, and the grief and pain of it hit me like a freight train.”

“I- I…” He didn’t know what to say. All this time he’d just been assuming her reaction on the roof was one of fear - fear of becoming a mind-controlled Widow again. He’d had no idea that she’d been feeling the pain of his loss.

“I could feel myself start to break down almost immediately,” she continued. “I started hyperventilating - panicking, really - and all I wanted to do was get to someplace quiet where I could fall apart. I ran into the nearest building and went up to the roof.”

“I was so scared you were going to jump,” Matt whispered, voicing the fear that had nearly paralysed him earlier.

She stroked his cheek again. “I wasn’t lucid enough to make that kind of plan. I just stumbled out onto the rooftop, found a small place to hide from the world and let the grief take me.”

He tightened his arms around her, securing her slender, fragile form against his chest. She rested her head on his shoulder, and they were silent for a few minutes as they both processed what she’d been through.

He could barely imagine it - the pain of losing her. He’d come close, once before, when she was locked in that coma. But to actually lose her. To know that she’d died…that she was gone from his life forever…

The mere thought of it was too painful.

She traced a finger through the damp hair on his chest as she started speaking again, her voice a faint whisper. “When you found me up there, and I heard you call my name…it was like my mind was torturing me. I was convinced that you couldn’t be real. That you were just some figment. Like a- a ghost.”

He pressed his lips against her hair. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

The words felt inadequate, but he didn’t know what else to say. So he just held her. Stroked his fingers up and down her back, as if to reassure her that he was real. That he was there.

That they were together.

And when the water turned cool, and they moved from the tub to the bed, he reassured her some more. He made love to her, slowly, gently, but thoroughly. He kissed and touched every inch of her skin and brought her to climax several times before finally sheathing himself inside her.

They moved against each other silently, words irrelevant in the moment, their bodies saying everything that needed to be said:

I’m here.

You’re safe.

I love you.

————–

Chapter 19 coming soon...(we're close to the end of Part 3 now!!)

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