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Karen lay motionless in bed, eyes closed, unsure what had woken her. She hadn’t been dreaming that she could remember. The apartment was quiet—
There. A small sound. Outside the bedroom, but definitely inside the apartment. She kept her eyes tight shut, so she could listen better. It might be nothing, old buildings made all kinds of sounds during the night...but her heartbeat was already picking up, her hands clenching into fists in the sheets, because she knew it might not be nothing. There were reasons she was a light sleeper, and she was remembering them all as she strained her ears.
More sounds, soft and stealthy. Her heartbeat ratcheted up another notch, her breath coming short and fast, as she realized there was someone there, someone who moved slowly and quietly around the living room, someone who didn’t want to be heard.
Fear gripped her, sickening and all too familiar. She opened her eyes and slipped from the bed as quietly as she could, crouching down on the floor out of sight, her heart jackhammering now inside her chest. She tried to think if there was anything within reach that she could use as a weapon, but there was a strange purple light in the room, disorienting her, and wait, that wasn’t her bed, where—
“Karen? Karen, are you all right?”
There was a man in the doorway, no longer bothering to be stealthy, coming swiftly toward her around the bed, and she scuttled back instinctively, a strangled cry in her throat...and then her panicked brain caught up with her ears, and she realized what he had said.
He had frozen in place at the sound of her cry, and now he took two careful steps back, his hands held open in front of him, deliberately unthreatening.
“Karen,” he said quietly, “It’s me. It’s just me.”
The light was behind him, his face in shadow, but she knew that voice. She stared around her, and of course, this was Matt’s bedroom. And the man now lowering himself cautiously to the floor, bringing himself down to her level, was obviously Matt.
She went limp with relief, and took a shaky breath, remembering....
* * *
“I should get changed,” said Matt, giving her a regretful smile. Dinner was long since over, and they sat together on the couch, his arm around her shoulders, her legs half in his lap, talking idly. It was getting late, night deepening outside the windows.
“Time for me to go home, then,” she said lightly, leaning in to kiss him. She often spent the evening with him, and sometimes the whole night, now that they were dating again. But she always went home to her own bed on nights when he planned to put on the mask and patrol the city.
He no longer tried to hide this part of his life from her, but he was still reluctant to let her see too much, to see him raw and fresh from a fight. And as much as she wanted him to include her in this strange second life that was so important to him, she understood his reluctance. The times when she had been her darkest, most violent self, would she want him to see her like that?
She had seen him fight, of course. Letting the devil out, he called it. But the devil didn’t always go away quietly once the fight was over. Sometimes, on the bad nights, the devil came home with him.
So Karen didn’t push, never asking if she could stay on the nights he went out. Not because she was afraid, but because it was important that he open himself up to her willingly, when he was ready.
She couldn’t help the tiny flutter of anxiety she still felt when she knew he was going to put himself in harm’s way, but she ignored it. He would notice it, of course, but he would also know she was trying not to show it, and that she would never try to stop him from doing what he needed to do.
He pulled her close and returned the kiss, running one hand down her arm to twine their fingers together.
And then...
“You could...stay,” he said hesitantly. “If you want.”
Her eyes widened. “Really?” she asked. “You wouldn’t mind?”
A flash of uncertainty crossed his face, gone almost before she had time to see it, but then he nodded resolutely. “If you want to,” he repeated, “then so do I. Things have been good lately, I haven’t had a really bad night in a while now, and...” He smiled, a little shyly. “There have been some nights when I’ve wished you were here, when I got back,” he admitted.
Her heart soared.
“I think I’d like to come home to you,” he went on. “To know, when I’m out there, that you’re here waiting for me.”
“I’d love to,” she said warmly, kissing him again, taking her time now that there was no need for her to leave. He seemed to be in no hurry, either, but finally he pulled away with a sigh.
“You don’t actually have to wait up for me, though,” he said. “I don’t know how late I’ll be. You should go to bed, I don’t want you to lose sleep on my account.”
“But Matt,” she objected, “If you want to come home to me, what good am I to you if I’m just taking up half your bed, out cold?” She didn’t say the rest out loud—how could she help him, if she didn’t stay awake for him? She wanted to be able to help ease whatever hurts he might find tonight, whether physical or emotional. But she knew how much trouble he had accepting that kind of help. The fact that he had invited her to stay at all was a big step, and she wasn’t about to press him for more.
“What good are you?” He repeated softly, reaching up to stroke her hair. “You think it won’t do me good just knowing you’re here, asleep and safe? You think it won’t do me good to fall asleep beside you, feeling your warmth, hearing your heartbeat, on sheets that smell like your hair?” He ran his fingers through it as he spoke, smiling, tipping his head to follow the scent it released.
She blushed faintly, surprised by his eloquence. But although his voice was low and intimate, she knew he wasn’t thinking about sex. What he was describing was comfort, it was peaceful, domestic tenderness, of a kind she had once thought would never be possible between them. Her heart swelled with a feeling she wasn’t yet willing to name, powerful and sweet, and she smiled back at him.
“All right,” she conceded. “I’ll go to bed, on one condition. When you get back, if you need any help getting cleaned up, or...if you want to talk, or anything, you wake me up.”
She had just told herself she wasn’t going to push, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. She held her breath, wondering if he might actually agree to let her help.
But he just smiled again, the corners of his eyes crinkling.
“No promises,” he replied. Then he kissed her once more, a sweet, lingering kiss that told her without words that he appreciated her offer, even if he wasn’t planning to take her up on it.
After he was gone, a lithe black shadow slipping out the door to the roof, she did sit up for a while. She had never said she’d go to bed as soon as he left, after all, and she had some files from work in her bag that she could work on. But as time went on, and she grew sleepy despite herself, she finally admitted that she was waiting up for him. If she really believed those sweet things he had said, then she should go to bed and sleep.
So she did.
* * *
“Matt,” she whispered now, crouched on the floor beside the bed, her back against the wall. She took a deep breath, willing her heart to slow its frantic pounding. She reached up for the small lamp on the nightstand, that he had put on that side of the bed just for her, and turned it on.
“Are you all right?” he repeated, his voice still soft but laced with concern. “I heard you wake up, and your heartbeat...you were afraid. I think I frightened you even more, when I came in. Did you...was it a nightmare?”
He knew, now, about her nightmares—less frequent than they used to be, but not gone entirely. They would have made an easy excuse for her overreaction. But that would be a lie, and she didn’t want to lie to him.
“No,” she admitted. “I, uh...” She swallowed, her throat dry. “I woke up when I heard you moving around in the living room. I think maybe I was only half awake, at first, or I would have remembered where I was. But I didn’t, I just knew someone else was there, and was trying to be quiet...”
“You thought someone had broken in,” he realized. He looked stricken, and she suddenly felt ashamed. She had wanted to be here for him, to help him if he needed her, and instead she was making him feel guilty on top of whatever trouble he might have found on the streets tonight.
She crawled across the floor to him. “Matt,” she said fiercely, “This is not your fault. If you blame yourself, when you were only being kind and trying not to wake me—”
Her voice broke, and she fell silent, still shaken by her sudden fear and its equally sudden release. She took a deep, shuddering breath, and reached out to touch him, her hands resting lightly on his forearms.
“It’s not your fault,” she repeated, more gently this time.
He looked unconvinced, his expression troubled. Her eyes flickered over him in the lamplight, taking in his sweaty hair and bare torso, his legs still encased in tight black. She must have woken up almost immediately, if he’d only had time to strip off his mask and shirt before he had sensed her fear and come rushing to her side.
He had a few fresh injuries, angry red marks and purple bruises standing out starkly against his pale skin, but nothing too serious, to her relief. She lay one hand gently on his chest, fingers brushing away a smear of blood, and he sighed.
“I’m fine, Karen.”
His dejected tone belied his words, but she said nothing. He deflected concern automatically, almost instinctively, especially when he was upset, and arguing often just made him withdraw even further. She wanted him close, and if she didn’t know the right words to convince him of that, there were other ways.
She shifted her position on the floor to sit beside him, her legs curled up against his, and slipped her arms around his waist, putting her head on his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here,” she told him softly, knowing he would hear the truth of it.
She couldn’t see his face, but she felt him turn his head toward her, the stubble on his chin snagging in her hair. Then, hesitantly, his arms curled around her shoulders, and he rested his cheek against her bent head with another sigh. She relaxed, feeling the tension bleed out of her, the last remnants of fear finally dissipating.
For a minute or two they just sat together wordlessly, breathing each other in, both giving and receiving comfort from their embrace.
Then Matt began to stroke one hand softly up and down her back, and she hummed in pleasure and squeezed him gently.
“I’m sorry I scared you,” he said quietly.
“I know. It’s all right, it’s over now. I’m fine.”
“But I should have thought. I know you’ve had people break into your apartment and attack you, more than once. I should have known you’d wake up, and you’d be scared, if I snuck in like that.”
“I didn’t think of it either, Matt.” She lifted her head so she could see his face once more, and reached up to cup his cheek in one hand. “Please stop blaming yourself, it didn’t occur to either one of us that it’d be a problem. The important thing is, now we’ll know better for next time.”
“Next time?” he said incredulously.
“Yes,” she said firmly, “Next time. I’m not about to give this up over a simple misunderstanding. No, just listen,” she went on, as he opened his mouth to protest. “All you have to do is make sure you wake me up as soon as you come in. I only got scared because I didn’t realize it was you. Let me know that right away, and there won’t be a problem.”
“I don’t want to make you lose sleep,” he said, frowning. “You don’t get enough as it is.”
“I get more than you do,” she countered. “And anyway, I won’t be losing much. How long does it take you to clean up and come to bed, once you’re home? And then I can go back to sleep with you here beside me.” She leaned in to kiss his cheek, and shamelessly snuggled closer into his arms, letting her body reinforce her argument.
A sound escaped him, somewhere between a snort and a chuckle, and she felt him relax against her. “You fight dirty,” he observed.
“I fight to win,” she answered, and kissed his collarbone. “I’d rather lose a little sleep than deny both of us something we both want, just because my brain freaked out and forgot you'd be coming in late.” She tried to speak lightly, but it still bothered her that she had panicked over nothing.
“You shouldn’t blame yourself, either,” he said quietly, stroking her hair. “Your brain was just trying to keep you safe. You really want to risk it again?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“All right, then. Next time, we can try it your way.”
Her heart lifted, and she smiled against his shoulder. She had been half afraid that he would turn stubborn on her, and refuse. “Thank you,” she said, giving him one last squeeze. “Go and get cleaned up now, and I’ll go back to bed and wait for you.”
“Go back to sleep,” he urged her. “You don’t have to wait for me.”
“No promises,” she replied, and climbed to her feet. He stood up beside her, and pulled her back into his arms, brushing his lips across hers softly.
“Goodnight, Karen,” he said with finality, eyebrows raised meaningfully.
“Goodnight, Matt,” she echoed, grinning. Despite his insistence, she knew she would be staying awake until he came to bed. She got into bed herself as he left the room, and a minute later she heard the shower begin to run. She turned out the light and lay down, her smile fading a little.
She would wait for him, partly because she wanted to, but partly because she knew she would never sleep through someone climbing into bed beside her—not when she had once been attacked in her sleep, in a bare police station holding cell. If she didn’t immediately realize who he was, the way she hadn’t earlier...much better not to risk it.
She sighed, thinking of the emotional scars she carried, and the unexpected ways they could trip her up even now, when her life was better than it had been in a long time. She knew Matt had scars, and she had been prepared for the challenges they might bring when the two of them had agreed to give their relationship another chance. But her own could still catch her off guard.
They were haunted by the past, both of them, but they couldn’t let that stop them from living.
It hadn’t been easy sometimes, as they had picked their careful way through the hurts and deceptions, through apologies and regrets, and slowly made their way back to each other. But that warm, unnamed feeling in her heart reassured her that it was worth it. And she knew Matt felt it, too, even though neither of them had yet found the words to express it.
When he stepped back into the bedroom, she opened her arms to him with a smile. He tried to frown at her, shaking his head in clear disapproval that she was still awake, but a smile broke free despite himself as he slipped into bed. He drew her close and kissed her, their bodies fitting together comfortably, and she finally drifted off to sleep, carried on a wave of warmth and peace.