Work Text:
Karen and Matt were eating take-out from their favourite Indian place, sitting at the small table in Matt’s apartment. They were drinking cheap wine while Karen told stories about her childhood with Kevin. The evening was light-hearted and familiar.
It wasn’t a date, not really, just two people catching up after months of separation, rediscovering each other.
“I wish I could show you a picture of him,” Karen said. “Of my family.”
Matt smiled, placing a hand on her forearm. “I think you painted a pretty clear picture of Kevin. Sounds like you knew each other incredibly well.”
Karen nodded. “We really did. We had so much fun together when we were kids. He used to make prank calls, until my dad caught him using the diner phone and got really angry.”
Matt laughed. “Yeah, I can imagine. Not great for business.”
“Well, he was nine, what did you expect?” she replied, then paused. “Is there any chance I get to see a picture of child Matt Murdock?”
Matt thought for a moment. “I think so. I kept one in my trunk for a while, with my Daredevil gear. Eventually, I moved it so it wouldn’t get damaged. It should be in the sideboard. You can look, I don’t mind.”
“Alright,” Karen agreed, already getting up.
Matt listened as the metallic cabinet door opened and Karen rummaged around.
Karen chuckled.
“You kept your children's Braille learning books and alphabet card?” she asked, surprised.
Matt smiled sheepishly. “Yeah…they have sentimental value. I used to read them at Fogwell’s while Dad was practicing. Well, sparring.”
“He practiced boxing while you practiced reading,” she said thoughtfully. “That makes sense. I get why you kept it.”
Then she must have found the picture, because her heartbeat sped up.
“I wouldn’t recognize you,” Karen admitted. “Not just because you weren’t blind yet. You just look so…”
“Innocent?” Matt asked.
Karen nodded. “Exactly.”
Karen went quiet, and Matt knew her well enough by now to recognize that silence. She had something on her mind.
“You want to know about my accident? What the weeks after were like?” Matt guessed. “I know I only brushed the topic that first night you were here.”
Karen returned and sat beside him, the photo forgotten as she took his hand. “No. That’s what everyone asks. I want to know what the day before was like. The lead-up. The ordinary parts.”
Matt raised his eyebrows. “Wow, Miss Page, you are one hell of an investigator.” He shook his head, amused. “No one’s ever asked me that. Not even Maggie, now that we are on speaking terms and meeting sometimes.”
Karen chuckled. “Yeah, well, I figured everyone wants to know about the days and weeks after. I can’t imagine those were easy to talk about.”
Matt huffed. “Yeah, it’s definitely nicer to talk about the before.”
“So…are you up for it?” Karen asked, hopefully.
He nodded, motioning for her to move with him to the couch. Once they were settled, he took a breath. It had been a while since he last thought about it.
«I’ll start with the day before.”
Past: Jack’s apartment. The day before, afternoon.
Matt had just come home from school, but Dad wasn’t there yet. Jack always told him to do his homework first, before anything else, no exceptions. But it had been a long day at school, and Matt was tired.
So he did the one thing his father didn’t want him to do. He turned on the TV to watch cartoons. Matt relaxed into the couch, letting himself enjoy it. He loved to watch Darkwing Duck. A hero protecting his city at night, but also making sure his daughter was safe. He was so absorbed that he didn’t hear the door open.
“Matty? Where are you?” Jack called.
Dad came home earlier than expected, which caught him off guard.
“Here,” Matt replied, quickly turning off the TV.
Jack stepped into the living room and pulled him into a hug. “Were you watching TV?”
“Yes,” Matt muttered.
Jack let go and crouched down on his level. “Did you finish your homework first?”
“No,” he admitted, quieter. “But it’s just reading.”
Jack stood up again and lifted him off his feet easily. “That’s important too. Any tests tomorrow?”
"I have to check," Matt admitted.
Jack let him go from his embrace, so Matt could head to his backpack.
Matt dug his school agenda out of his backpack. “Math,” he said. “But I don’t really need to study for that.”
Jack sighed. “You’re going to read to me and study math. You’re going to be more successful than I am one day.”
“Okay,” Matt sighed, hung his head. Then his eyes lit up. “They’re showing the movie Karate Kid tonight. One of the boys at school talked about it. It sounds really cool. Can we watch it together? Please! I promise I’ll study math.”
Jack considered for a moment.
“I think you might be a little bit too young for that movie, Matty,” Jack said, ruffling his hair.
But Matt pressed on, hugging him.
“Please, Dad!”
Jack hesitated, then smiled. “Alright,” Jack conceded. “But just so you know, tomorrow I have a match on short notice. It’s a big one. It could bring us a lot of money. I couldn’t say no.”
That sounded promising. Matt smiled. “That’s great, Dad. Nine o’clock?
Jack nodded. “Same as always. Now, grab your book and read to me.”
Present time: Matt’s Apartment:
“So, I presume that match never happened the next day?” Karen asked.
Matt raised his eyebrow. “No, but they rescheduled it, with an even higher price money.”
“Did he win?”
Matt chuckled.
“No he lost in the seventh,” Matt admitted. “But the money was still enough to pay rent for two months. And for my Braille books. The ones you saw earlier.”
Karen frowned. “Fixed match.”
“Yeah, they paid him to lose.”
“That was common, I guess,” she said, exhaling. “Those books really mean a lot to you.”
Matt nodded, lowering his head, embarrassed, though he wasn’t sure why.
She placed a hand on his shoulder. “He cared about you. It was important to him that you went to school. A better life for you altogether. In that sense, you made your father proud.”
Matt huffed. “He never wanted me to fight, though. That’s where I failed him.”
Karen waved him off. “He’d think differently if he could see how you move, fight, and how you protect people.”
Matt allowed him a small smile. Karen had always been impressed by his fighting. Even before she knew who Daredevil really was.
“So Karate Kid, as the last movie you saw, kind of seems significant,” Karen noted. “Did you ever watch it again with Foggy?”
Matt shook his head. “Just the remake with Jackie Chan. Foggy dragged me to the movie theatre, which was back in college.”
“Maybe we should watch the original sometime,” she suggested. “And… what happened after the movie?”
Matt was glad she didn’t want to talk about the movie and the implications for his life right now.
“After the movie…”
Past: Jack Murdock’s apartment, bedtime.
The movie had just finished, and Matt knew it was bedtime, but he didn’t want to go to bed just yet.
“Can I get a cookie?” he asked anyway.
Jack chuckled. “You’re really trying to get everything today, huh? Alright, your old man’s soft.” He pointed toward the bathroom. “But after that, you brush your teeth and go straight to bed.”
Matt nodded, then tried his luck again. “Can I come to Fogwell’s tomorrow and watch the match?”
“No, Matty,” Jack said gently. “It’s a school night. If it goes until the twelfth and past midnight, you should already be asleep. Understand?”
Matt nodded, eating his second cookie in silence. “Can I at least do my homework at Fogwell’s?
Jack considered for a moment. “Fine. But you will go straight home afterwards. You can even watch your cartoons when you get back.”
Matt beamed at his dad, and his Dad ruffled his hair once again.
“I’ll go home,” Matt promised quickly.
This meant more cartoons like Chip 'n' Dale Rescue Rangers and Darkwing Duck for him.
After brushing his teeth, Matt headed to his room. Jack followed him in and pulled him into a hug.
“Okay, bedtime. Do you want the night light?”
Matt shook his head. “I’m big enough. I don’t need it anymore.”
“Okay, big guy,” Jack said, walking to the door. “If you change your mind, it’s on your desk,” He paused. "Did you set the alarm clock?"
“No,” Matt admitted. “You do it.”
Jack came back to his bed and set the clock. Matt had a really cool dinosaur-shaped one.
“You’ll beat him tomorrow, Dad,” Matt said confidently. “I know you will.”
Jack had already turned off the light. But even in the dark, Matt could see the bright smile on his face. "Well, if you believe in me, nothing can go wrong tomorrow."
“I just know tomorrow will be your day,” Matt called. "Good night, Dad,"
Jack tucked him in, pulling the blanket up to his chin, then left the room and closed the door. Matt couldn’t sleep. He lay awake, studying all the shadows. In the distance, he heard a siren, and he imagined what horrible thing had happened.
After a while, he got out of bed and went to the window, looking down the street, searching for flashing lights. When he couldn’t see any, he looked up instead. He noticed that it was a clear night. He could even see a few stars.
Present: Matt’s Apartment:
“I did end up turning the night light on,” Matt said quietly, finishing the memory. “Even before the accident, I’d lie awake at night, listening to all the sirens. I liked to put stories to them. It was a stupid game. The story I made up that night made me anxious enough that I ended up using the light.
“Do you remember what story you invented?” Karen asked.
“Hmm, I think someone being attacked in a dark alley. I often made up fires or robberies.”
Karen nodded. “Thankfully, there weren’t as many sirens in Fagan’s Corner.” She paused. “Did you ever tell your dad about the stories?”
“No,” Matt admitted. “But I think he knew I was lying awake. That’s why he offered the light every night. He knew something was frightening me.”
“Your own imagination,” Karen replied softly. “But you remember the night clearly. The sky.” She hesitated. “You mentioned it the first night we met.”
Matt nodded. If he’d known it was the last time he’d ever see the night sky, he would have looked longer.
“I remember the morning of the next day, too,” he said. “Even what we did at school.”
Karen squeezed his hand. “Tell me.”
“My dad liked to sleep in on days he had a match,” Matt explained. “He made sure my alarm was set and that there was food ready for me. So, I got up alone and went to school without seeing him that morning.”
Karen swallowed. "Was the night before the last time you saw him?" Karen asked quietly.
"No,"
She waited, carefully. “Then… please tell me what that day was like.”
Past: Jack’s apartment and elementary school, the morning before the accident.
Matt got up on his own. He did something his dad wouldn’t have approved of. He turned on the TV and ate breakfast while watching his favourite morning cartoon. He wore headphones so he wouldn’t wake up his Dad.
Before leaving for school, he stood in the hallway for a moment, considering whether to peek into his dad’s room, see if he was still asleep. In the end, he decided against it. If the match was important, Dad needed all the rest he could get.
School was only a five-minute walk away. Matt wished it were a Saturday. It was a sunny day with a clear blue sky, perfect for being outside. But instead, he had his maths test during their first lesson.
He felt like he did well with all the multiplications and divisions. He even noticed another boy cheating, thought about saying something, then decided not to. He wasn’t a sneak. He, too, once used a little cheat sheet on a math test.
In English, they got an exam back. It had been a dictation. He’d gotten an A. Matt smiled to himself. He’d show Dad at Fogwell’s later. His father would be proud of his writing and listening abilities.
During today’s lesson, the teacher assigned a creative exercise. They were to write a story using words written on the blackboard, and they had to make their handwriting as neat as possible.
Each student contributed a word. Matt, of course, said boxer. Other kids added alley, New York, eyes, or beach.
Present time: Matt’s Apartment:
"Do you remember what you wrote about?" Karen asked.
Matt smirked. “I reused the story I made up the night before. I just changed the ending.”
Karen laughed. “Let me guess. Someone gets beaten up in a New York alley, rescued by a famous boxer, and recovers at the beach, staring at the blue sky with his eyes.”
“Almost,” Matt admitted. “He recovered at the beach at night. And he saw more stars than he could count.”
Karen chuckled. "Go on."
Past, Elementary School, midday
Until lunch, they had a double period in the gym. That day, the teacher introduced them to baseball. Everyone got a turn to use the bat. Matt didn’t like it that much. He preferred other games, ones with clearer rules and less waiting, but he still managed to hit the ball.
Then it was time for lunch. He sat with the rest of the boys of his class, mostly letting them talk while he ate mashed potatoes and meatloaf. As a bonus, they even served mousse au chocolat that day. That was a wonderful treat.
"We just have to watch that movie together in the movie theatre, Matt," one of his classmates said. "Everyone has to see it. My dad says it’s going to be a classic.”
Matt smiled, even though he knew his dad didn’t have the money for movie tickets. "I'm in if your dad pays for the ticket," Matt agreed. "Doesn't he work for the bank?"
The boy laughed. "I told you. He isn't a banker, Matt. "He's the lawyer for the bankers."
It all sounded the same to Matt. The family clearly had a lot of money. He’d been to the boy’s place a few times, a fancy apartment with two floors.
“I’ll ask my dad,” the boy promised. “I swear, Matt.”
Present time: Matt’s Apartment:
"Did you ever end up going to the movie theater with him?" Karen asked. “Though I think I can make an educated guess.”
Matt grinned. “Good guess. No. And whatever that movie was, it didn’t become a classic.”
Karen got up, grabbed two beers from the fridge, and popped one open for him. “What about that lawyer dad? Is he still around?”
Matt gladly accepted the beer for the last part of his story. “Here’s the funny part. He was never actually a lawyer. Just an ‘advisor’ who’d taken a few courses. Got into serious legal trouble later for pretending.”
Karen laughed. "And you thought this was some fancy kid with rich parents."
“Yeah,” Matt agreed. “Though looking back… the rooms in that apartment were tiny.”
"So what happened after lunch?" Karen asked, taking a sip of her beer.
"We had art class,” Matt continued. “Drawing, painting, but also working with all kinds of materials. Like crafting with wood or soapstone."
"Sounds like fun. Did you like the class?"
Matt nodded. "Yes, I loved it. Unfortunately, they didn't let me continue that class after I went blind. They thought a blind kid working with woods and tools was too dangerous."
Karen scoffed. “I’d disagree. So what did you do instead?”
"Learning to read Braille, mobility training. Stuff like that," Matt explained. "But I really have to tell you what we did that day in class."
"Painting?" Karen guessed.
Matt smirked. "Just listen."
Past, Elementary School, Afternoon Art lesson
Their last two periods of the day were the art lessons. During last week's lesson, they finished their soapstone sculpture. He always enjoyed that class.
“Today we’re talking about colours," the teacher announced. "What happens when we mix them? Does anyone know what you get when you mix red and yellow?”
Matt raised his hand immediately. He had a colouring book at home that explained it.
"Yes, Matthew?"
"Orange."
“Exactly.” She smiled. “Everyone, come to the front. Let’s test it.”
Matt joined the other kids, watching closely as the colours bled into one another. He loved experiments. He was fascinated by the process.
Afterward, they were given watercolours and told to try to experiment for themselves. Matt was so immersed in the activity that he was surprised when the teacher ended the lesson. In Matt's opinion, the lesson always ended far too quickly. But he had something else to look forward to. Going to Fogwell's.
He looked at his sheets, which were a mix of different shades of red and orange, one more time before he packed them away.
Present time: Matt’s Apartment:
"You're shitting me," Karen said in disbelief.
Matt shook his head, smirking. "I kid you not. Twenty minutes before the accident, I was mixing colours in art class. At the end, we laid all our papers out to compare.”
"Did you talk to your teacher afterward?"
“Briefly,” Matt said. “She was young. Fresh out of college.”
“You should reach out to her,” Karen suggested. “You remember that class so clearly. It would probably mean a lot to her.”
"Karen, I'm sure she is aware of the implications."
“Still,” she insisted. “It wouldn’t hurt. Do you remember her name? I could find her.”
Matt hesitated, then nodded. “You know… maybe that’s not such a bad idea. That class probably helped me remember some colours better than others. Orange, especially. She also talked about the connections we had to colours, made some examples.”
"I will find her, Matt,” Karen promised. “So, school was over?”
“Yeah,” Matt agreed. “Usually, I took a detour, walked some classmates home first. But not that day. I wanted to get to Fogwell’s as fast as possible.”
Past, Hell’s Kitchen, moments before the accident. The intersection near Fogwell’s
Matt couldn't wait to go to Fogwell's. He quickly left the building, not looking back or waiting for any friends. Fogwell’s was only two blocks from school. He knew the route by heart. He could walk that route even while blind.
While he walked, Matt looked up at the sky. It was still a bright sunny day.
He even saw a poster for that movie his classmate wanted him to watch in the movie theater. It looked very promising. Maybe he still could persuade his dad to go if he won that match tonight. An early birthday gift, maybe.
He turned the corner and almost bumped into someone, but he only had to cross the street. Only one more crossing and he reached Fogwell's. He was in a hurry, but unfortunately, he had to wait. The light just turned red.
That’s when he spotted an older man who was still crossing the street, walking painfully slowly. Matt looked to the left and saw a speeding truck, clearly not slowing down. The truck was coming far too fast. The man wouldn’t survive the impact.
Matt acted instinctively and ran forward, shoving the man out of the way. The truck screeched, brakes screaming as it swerved across the street.
Present: Matt’s Apartment
Karen gasped, covering her mouth. "It happened in front of Fogwell's?"
Matt nodded. "Yes, pretty much. The radioactive material splashed into my face. I was screaming, and pedestrians were gathering, calling for help. I just lay there on the ground. And my eyes burned like hell."
Karen lowered her head. "That's when you lost your sight?”
“Not immediately,” Matt explained, squeezing her hand. “My dad came running out. He heard the noise from inside. He held me, tried to wipe the chemicals from my eyes. But it was already too late. He cradled me in his arms. And... while I was looking up at his face and the blue sky, everything started to fade quickly."
Karen breathed in deeply and swallowed.
"Do you remember what happened after?" Karen whispered.
Matt took a big swig of his beer. "The ambulance came. After that, it's all a blur. I was unconscious for a while. In the hospital, when I woke up, it was all too loud. Too many voices, sounds I couldn't interpret, like the heartbeats. All the footsteps. The bedsheets felt like sandpaper. Some still do today. Don't get me started on all the scents."
Karen squeezed his hand. "I bet. How did your Dad take it?"
“He tried to be strong…”
Past, Hospital, after the accident
"I can't see Dad," Matt cried, shifting uncomfortably in his bed. “I can’t see anything.”
Jack pulled him into his arms, holding him tight. “I know, Matty.” His voice was steady, but it shook just a little. “I talked to the doctors. They told me you’re going to be blind for the rest of your life.”
Matt went still, listening. He held on tight to his Dad.
“I don’t want to give you any false hope,” Jack continued gently. “So I’m going to be straight with you. Your eyes don’t respond to light anymore. They call it no light perception, NLP for short. The stuff that got into your eyes was radioactive. Meaning dangerous to humans. Especially to the eyes.”
It was too much. Matt wanted to cry, but his eyes were still wrapped in bandages. He sobbed into his dad's shoulder.
"Blind…” Matt whispered, between sobs. “What does it mean?"
The mattress dipped beside him. Dad took his hand carefully. “It means you’ll have to learn new ways of doing things. The doctors say you’ll have to use a cane to get around. And you’ll learn to read with your fingers.”
“How?” Matt asked, barely audible.
"I didn't understand it,” Jack admitted. “But first, you rest. Then we’ll figure it out together.” He squeezed Matt’s hand. “A Murdock always gets back up, remember.”
Matt nodded.
"I remember," Matt whispered.
But right now, it was hard to see how he would come back from this. He needed his eyes for so much. School, reading, and watching TV with his dad. He didn’t want to think. He just wanted to sleep. Maybe when he woke up, this would all be a bad dream, and he’d still have his math test waiting for him.
"Are you - are you angry with me?" Matt asked.
Now his dad escaped a sob, holding him tighter. "Oh, Matthew. Of course not. It's that trucker driver's fault."
Matt breathed in deeply, taking in Jack's aftershave.
“I’m not as religious as your mother was,” Jack said after a moment, “but it could’ve been worse. You could’ve died. Thank God you’re still here.”
His dad never mentioned his mom; he only knew titbits here and there.
“Should I pray?” Matt whispered. “Thank God.”
Jack hesitated. “Yeah… maybe. They might have a priest on call. I’m not really into that stuff.”
Matt heard footsteps, but was confused about where they were coming from. "Did you move away?"
Matt startled when a hand touched his. "I'm right here, Matty."
"What about the match?" Matt asked.
Jack sighed. “Don’t worry about that right now. We’ve got enough money for the month.”
Present: Matt’s Apartment
"You really asked about the match?" Karen asked.
Matt nodded. "Matches were important. It was his only legal income."
“And the priest?” she asked. “Did one come?”
“Yeah,” Matt said, leaning back. “Father Lantom. Maggie told me only a few weeks ago that my dad called her that night. Begged her to come back. But she sent Father Lantom to tell her how I was doing."
"Wow. She told you that. I’m sure that took a lot to admit.”
“Oh, yes. Her heartbeat was racing; she was nervous talking about it. I didn’t even ask. She told me unprompted.”
“Ahm, what did Father Lantom tell you? Mind telling me about it?”
“He told me something I never forgot,” Matt continued.
Past: Hospital, later that same evening
Matt was half-asleep when someone shook him gently. He startled.
“Sorry, Matty,” Jack said. “I’m still getting used to it.” He cleared his throat. “There’s a priest outside. Do you want to talk to him alone?”
He didn't care. He just wanted to leave the hospital, get home, and be in his own bed. Forget this day forever. Everything was just too loud and overwhelming.
"Sure.”
“Alright, I'll come back later. I’ll be in the cafeteria,” Jack informed him, standing up.
The door opened with a long, grating squeak that made Matt flinch.
He heard footsteps coming in. A hand touched his. "Hello. You must be Matthew. My name is Paul Lantom. I’m a priest at Clinton Church. I heard you’ve been through something terrible today. Would you like to talk about it?”
His voice was gentle and soft. Matt liked the voice immediately. He nodded.
“I pushed an old man out of the way of a speeding truck…But I got hit instead,” Matt recited. “Some stuff came into my eyes, and they burned. Now I'm blind, apparently."
He heard how flat his own voice sounded, like he was reciting a story instead of talking about himself.
It was so weird to talk to people without seeing their faces. But he had to get used to it. This thought alone hurt so much. His eyes were still bandaged, but even then, he could feel the tears forming. He breathed in deeply, but he still cried. He started to sob.
Father Lantom sighed deeply and rested a hand on Matt’s shoulder. "That's indeed unfortunate. You saved someone else's life but got hurt in the process."
“Dad says I’m lucky to be alive,” Matt burst out. “But if there is a God…why would he make me suffer like this, Father? How can a loving God do this to me?” Matt sniffed. “Why would he want me to live blind for the rest of my life? Isn't that cruel?"
The words came out sharp, but right now, he just felt defeated.
If he weren’t so tired, he would want to scream, to rip something apart, to punch something. He felt rage inside of him. He was angry, maybe at God. Matt desperately needed answers. Life was just not fair right now. His hands were shaking.
“That feels unfair,” Lantom finally agreed, taking Matt’s trembling hand. “Okay, Matthew, I will tell you something, and I want you to listen carefully and remember it. Can you do that?"
Matt took a shaky breath and nodded. “I’m listening.”
The bed dipped as Father Lantom sat down beside him.
"God works in ways we don’t always understand, Matthew,” Father Lantom began. “He has a plan for all of us. Picture it this way. His plan is like a beautiful tapestry. The unfair part of it, we humans only get to see it from the back with its rugged threads and muddy colours. We only get a hint of the true beauty that could be revealed if we could see the whole pattern on the other side, as God does."
Matt thought back to his art class earlier. Some of his experiments turned out brown and muddy.
“My point. There is a reason for you going blind,” Father Lantom continued. “I know it sounds harsh, and you won’t believe that now. But one day, you might.”
It sounded really nice and poetic what he said. "I want to believe you,” Matt whispered.
"Whatever your new reality is, you will adjust, Matthew. I promise,” Lantom said softly. “But until you do, you have to be strong.”
"Thank you," Matt whispered. “I can be strong… just like my Dad.”
Lantom chuckled.
“Yes, that’s the spirit,” Lantom said. “Right now, all you can feel is pain and anger. But if you want, you can come talk to me at the church. We’ll work through it together.”
Matt nodded. “I want that.”
Father Lantom prayed for him, then went to fetch Jack. Somehow, Matt felt lighter. If this was what God wanted for him… then he would find a way to live with it.
Present: Matt’s Apartment
Matt caught the faint scent of salt in the air. “You’re crying?”
"That was beautiful," she whispered, voice breaking from emotions. "Father Lantom was always there for you."
“There’s more,” Matt said quietly. “I told Maggie about the tapestry on the day of Father Lantom’s funeral. I wanted her to know that maybe… us being apart was part of God’s plan after all.”
Karen nodded. “I’m not religious,” she said gently. “But if seeing it that way helps you, if it brings you peace, I understand. You being able to give people a second chance is maybe one of your biggest strengths.”
“That analogy meant everything to me,” Matt admitted. “Especially after that art class.” He paused. “I wasn’t very religious before. That day changed that. I can admit it.”
“That makes sense,” Karen said. “And it’s another reason to reach out to your old teacher.”
Matt nodded.
“What happened after?” she asked. “Anything else that stuck with you?”
“The days after the accident are mostly a blur,” Matt admitted. “Nurses walking me through the hallways. Going home felt like relief, but also…”
"Terrifying?" Karen supplied
"Yes,” he replied. “I didn’t go back to school for weeks. My class sent a get-well-soon package. I went to therapy, you already know that part.”
Karen laughed. “Long story short, you survived. And you got better."
"Yeah... that's my story," Matt said.
Karen hesitated, then wrapped her arms around him. Matt melted into the hug, holding on longer than he meant to, savoring every second.
“Thank you for trusting me with this,” she whispered. “It means a lot. Maybe someday I’ll tell you about the day before my brother died. But… not tonight.”
“I’d love to hear it,” Matt said softly, even as he kept holding her.
She pulled back just enough to look at him. “Maybe Father Lantom was right about the tapestry. Why did my brother have to die? But if he hadn’t… I wouldn’t have left Vermont. I wouldn’t have met you or Foggy.”
Matt smiled. “See? There’s a bright side.”
“We’re all surrounded by darkness,” Karen said. “But maybe we make it lighter by sharing it…or something.” She hesitated. “Though I guess for you… You live in darkness all the time.”
Matt turned his head towards her. "Karen, being blind doesn't mean it's dark. Not for me at least...It's more like a thousand suns at once."
She nodded slowly, absorbing that.
“It’s nothing like the darkness in my room when I was a kid,” he added, “when I’d get up to turn on the night light.”
She laughed. “Mr. Murdock, the poet. A thousand suns sounds overwhelming.
“It is,” he admitted. “But people like you and Foggy make it manageable.”
Karen laughed heartily. "You really know how to talk."
Matt smirked and checked his watch. “It’s late, and tomorrow’s Saturday. Do you want to stay? So you don’t have to walk home alone through the dark city.”
Karen blushed; he could tell from the shift in her body heat. “Yeah,” she said. “I’ll stay. I’ll be your night light.”
"I don't need one,” Matt said, smirking, “But I could be yours.”
"Maybe you just don't want to admit it," Karen teased.
She went quiet, then spoke again, carefully. “Matt… could we go to Fogwell’s tomorrow? You could show me the intersection where it happened.”
Matt smiled. “Yeah. We can do that.”
He handed her one of his old shirts and bedding for the couch. Karen lay down while Matt retreated to his bedroom, sliding the door shut.
For a while, he just listened to her breathing and her heartbeat slowing down. She didn’t sleep for a while, probably thinking about what he told her. Maybe he had a second chance with her. But tonight, staying was enough.
He hadn’t talked about that day in detail for years. With Karen, it felt easier. Pushing her away had been a mistake, he knew that now.
Foggy and Karen had always been there for him.
Past; Hospital, later that same night, bedtime
“Matt, it’s time to sleep,” Jack said softly.
“How am I supposed to sleep?” Matt whispered. “Everything’s so loud.”
“Just try,” Jack said. “Tomorrow’s a new day. I’ll lie here with you. Just listen to my breathing. In and out, slow. Okay?”
Matt nodded, his voice shaking. “I’ll try.”
As he lay there, there were so many sirens, blaring. It seemed more than usual. What were they for? Tonight, he was too tired to make up a story. But he didn't even need to.
One siren had been for him today. He would have never come up with his own story.
His Dad lay beside him, breathing steadily. Matt placed his hand over his father’s heart, focusing on the rhythm. Slowly, the noise faded into the background. Everything around him got quieter, and slowly, exhaustion took over.
Present: Matt’s Apartment
Matt lay in bed, and in the living room, Karen finally fell asleep. Her breathing was steady now.
In the distance, two sirens were blaring. What were they for?
A robbery he could have stopped, A knife fight, he might have prevented. It didn’t matter. There were too many possibilities. All that mattered was Karen in the next room.
He focused on her breathing and her steady heartbeat and quickly fell asleep.