Chapter Text
Rain fell over Hell's Kitchen as though the city itself mourned the woman cradled in the arms of the Red Demon Knight.
Matt Murdock had always known the sounds of this city—the city where he had been raised, where he had been broken, cursed, and forged into the guardian who stood between Hell's Kitchen and the darkness that threatened to consume it. The endless footsteps against rain-slick pavement. The distant horns of taxis. The voices of strangers passing by, never knowing the battles being fought in the shadows to keep them safe.
But not tonight.
Tonight...
Every sound felt different.
Every heartbeat struck harder.
Especially hers...
Because it was slowing to an eternal stop.
Somewhere beyond the pounding rain, Matt could almost hear Wilson Fisk's satisfied smile. Bullseye's cruel laughter echoed through his mind, refusing to fade, haunting every corner of his thoughts.
Make it stop.
Make the bleeding stop.
Please...someone...help...
Please...don't let her die...
Karen's limp body rested in his arms like something impossibly precious, her breathing shallow, ragged, and growing weaker with every passing second. Blood poured through the wound Bullseye had driven into her, soaking through Matt's crimson suit until her blood became indistinguishable from the scarlet leather skin of Daredevil himself. His gloved hand pressed desperately against the wound, fighting a battle he already knew he was losing.
Bullseye hadn't just stabbed a woman.
He had struck down the devil's wife.
The angel who had been the light of his life.
The mother of their son.
He wasn't sure what to do or how to save his wife. All he could do—everything his mind and heightened senses urged him to do—was hold his angelic wife close in his arms as tears streamed down his face.
“Karen, stay...stay with me. Stay with me. I'm here. You're going to be okay. Just look at me. Just keep looking at me.”
The pain burned through her where Bullseye's blade had struck, every second bringing her closer to an ending she refused to accept. Karen's trembling eyes never left him. Even as the darkness crept closer, even as her strength began to fade, she fought.
She fought to stay alive for him.
She fought to stay alive for their son.
The woman who had always stood beside the Devil of Hell's Kitchen refused to let go without a fight. Though she could not see beyond the mask, she stared into the blank crimson lenses she had come to love—the eyes of the man beneath the devil's armor, the man she had never feared.
With the last of her strength, her shaking fingers tightened around his forearm, holding on to him as if she could anchor herself to the life they had built together.
The old church stood silent around them.
Outside, thunder rolled across the heavens as rain lashed against stained-glass windows, as if the sky itself wept alongside them.
“M-Matt…”, she wheezed.
“Don't talk. Don't talk, Karen. I'm here.”
“M...Ma...Matt…”
“Darling, don't talk. I'm here. I am here.”
His mind reached outward through the chaos. Their baby was alive and safe. For now. Their baby boy had escaped with Sister Maggie and Elektra. Fisk had ordered Bullseye to bring the child to him, but Elektra had broken away, refusing to let the Kingpin claim another innocent life.
Their son had survived.
Karen had paid the price.
“Matt…” she whispered.
“No...no, don't talk. We'll get you help. Just keep looking at me. Just keep looking at me.”
She slowly shook her head.
“No...Matt...I...love you…”
Matt's breath caught.
“Karen...I love you too.”
He pressed his forehead gently against hers as tears slipped beneath the edge of his mask.
“...but...I don't think…I'm going to be here...with you anymore...or...with our baby boy...Matt...I…”
Blood stained her lips as the words broke apart.
Matt held her even tighter.
“No. No, don't say that. You're going to be fine. Elektra will come back. We'll get you to a hospital. You'll be okay.”
Karen gave the smallest shake of her head.
“No...it's too late for me, Matt.”
For the first time in years...
The Devil of Hell's Kitchen didn't know what to do.
“No, Karen! Don’t talk like that! Don’t you dare talk like that, darling!” the Crimson Devil cried, holding his angelic bride closer against him. “You are strong, Karen Page. You have always been strong. You fought through every storm, every battle, every darkness that tried to break you. You are going to make it, do you hear me? You are going to make it.”
“Matt...I love you so much," she whispered. "You...and our son...my beautiful baby boy...both of you are the greatest gifts God ever gave me...Matt Murdock...my Daredevil.” A fragile smile found her lips.
Matt knew.
It would be the last smile she would ever give him.
“Karen…don't...go.”
With trembling fingers, she reached up and rested her hand against his rain-soaked mask. Matt immediately clasped it between both of his bloodstained hands.
“Take care of our son, Matt,” she whispered. “Take care of him...Be a good father…”
His voice broke.
“I will. I promise. I will, Karen.”
“I didn't...make it…” she sobbed softly. "I'm sorry...I love you...so much…”
“Karen…”
“...I'm going to...miss...both of you…”
Her heartbeat slowed.
Thump.
...Thump...
......Thump......
Each beat grew farther apart.
Softer.
Weaker.
Until finally...
“Good...bye…”
Her hand slipped from his grasp.
The warmth left her fingers.
Her heartbeat echoed through Matt's senses one final time.
Thump.
Silence.
No heartbeat.
No breath.
Nothing.
“Karen…”
His voice barely escaped him.
“Karen…”
He held her closer, refusing to believe what every one of his heightened senses was screaming at him.
“Karen…”
The rain continued to fall.
Thunder shook the heavens.
And in the quiet sanctuary of the old church, the Devil of Hell's Kitchen knelt alone with his angel in his arms.
His wife, the mother of their son...was gone.
Forever.