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Matt had crawled his way into his apartment through the window leading in from the fire escape. Not the ideal way of coming home to you, but he'd promised he always would, so he hoped that would somehow make up for the fact he was ruining the carpet in the living room. By bleeding on it. This wasn't the first time it had happened, but usually you weren't home to see it.
This time you were, and you'd rushed out of the bedroom when you heard the window slide open and a loud thud, followed by a pained groan. "Matt?" You called, excited to see him, until you actually saw him, "oh shit, Matt? Holy fuck-" you were very clearly starting to panic.
He wheezed in response and tried to sit up, "it's fine honestly, it doesn't even hurt that badly," his voice clearly laced with pain, and almost inaudible.
"It doesn't look fine," you spat, voice thick with worry, his attempt at humor had snapped your focus back to the current moment.
He winced at your tone, "I deserved that. I did." It didn't mean that he enjoyed hearing it from you though.
You nodded, "don't move an inch, I'm going to get the first aid kit."
"Yes sir," he replied, leaning against the couch, thankful it wasn't real leather, so any blood could be wiped off. He could almost hear it oozing out of his many wounds, and that made him wince, he couldn't imagine how terrible he looked, but as always you were there. Swooping in to save him.
"I got the first aid kit, you're gonna need bandages and gauze, if it wasn't almost two in the morning, I'd call Foggy to bring me some more," you rambled, the worry still very evident in your voice, "but you'll have to deal with him soon enough."
He would have laughed, but the movement jostled his ribs horribly and instead he hissed in pain. "Yeah, I think Foggy would want to finish me off-" trying to put some humor in his voice.
You glared at him, despite knowing that he couldn’t see you. Even though you were upset with him for getting so hurt, you couldn’t hold on to that anger as you tenderly cleaned his wounds. He had the softest of smiles on his face as you did, he loved you so much, and hated worrying you. He wouldn't give up his night job though, he couldn't bare the thought of how much worse the city could be without him. You might get hurt, and he'd never forgive himself for that.
"You got quiet Matty," you murmured softly, "what're you thinkin' about?"
"You," he replied with almost no hesitation.
His honesty had you blushing, "c'mon Matt, tell the truth," your tone was teasing, but you were being sincere.
"Its true sweetheart," he replied, looking toward you, "I've always got you on my mind."
His sweetness always made it so hard to stay mad at him, and this time was no different than any other. You had to lean over and press a soft kiss to his cheek, "I love you Matt, now c'mon let's get you to bed."
He nodded, and let you help him up, relying on you instead of his senses to get him to your shared room. He trusted you more than anyone, and that was one thing he always wanted you to remember.