AUTHORS NOTE: So, the "day" is the day before he's gonna fight Fisk or whatever you want it to be. I kinda let it abstract bc that's how it felt best and you can interpret it however you wanna. Also my first attempt at a kind of angsty fic. Idk. Enjoy.

Title: i'm done pretending (those three words)

By: organisedhavoc

Word Count: Approx. 1400

It's about a year later when they decide to talk about that night.

A year since that night where they weren't sure Matt would get a tomorrow.

A year since they decided if it was to be his last day they might as well be with the ones they cared about the most, each other.

A year since they lost themselves in each other thinking Matt wouldn't get to see a new day.

A year since he admitted to her with his body how much he felt for her.

A year since they went their separate ways, not discussing what happened, understanding it just wasn't the right time. Both wishing the other would call out and things would go the way they wanted just once.

There had been several close calls, what with Matt's constant sweeps with death, Claire's unexplainable need to know that he'll be okay, and the constant uncertainty whether or not this will be the time he doesn't make it out alive.

During these frequent meetings both would wait for the other to speak, words that could change everything on the tip of their tongues. Words that would finally acknowledge the feelings they acted on that fateful night. They would sit and wait― Matt a skilled and experienced patient, barely even flinching as she patched his wounds, hoping the other would just give in and say something, anything to acknowledge that that night was more than them just being "caught up in the moment."

Afraid to break the bubble created whenever they were together, they let the silence say more than either of them could and right when they would build up the courage to say "Fuck it," and talk about that beautiful disaster of a night, make it more real and acknowledge it vocally―a pin would drop or a neighbor would knock and the bubble would be burst providing a perfect excuse for the words to stay behind their lips and the night to be kept behind a locked door marked "DO NOT DISCUSS."

After the interruptions where they'd be shocked out of their reveries, they'd face each other. Matt's eyes managing to find hers despite his blindness, seeing her without really seeing her, realizing just how close they'd come to making a wonderful mistake, each pair of eyes holding promises of next time. Then, he would crawl out of the window and out of her life for a short while until they needed each other again, both aware that next time would be exactly the same.

One time they get close. So close. The words started to leave Matt's lips, a whispered "Claire-" coming out of his mouth so quietly she wasn't sure whether or not she had imagined it. He paused and waited for the usual interruption. Except, that time, no sound was heard. Nothing was there to stop them from discussing the night their emotions were too great to be held in, neither of the two having been strong enough to fight them.

He started again and realized just after her name had fallen from his lips that even though the universe seemed to be telling him that it was the time, he couldn't. He loves her and he's pretty sure she loves him, but he knows that if they talk about that night he'll have to tell her. Despite how good he is at hiding how he feels, he was positive he wouldn't be able to sell some bullshit about just getting "caught up in the moment" to Claire. And yet, he just can't bring himself to say those three little words. Not while he's still living a life where vocalizing his love for her could put her in even more danger than she is already in by just speaking to him.

So instead of letting out the words that could result in a beautiful disaster he had plastered on a small fake smile and said "Claire, I think I heard a scream in the alley over on 4th." She nodded, a sad yet knowing smile on her own lips, and punched him lightly in the arm "Go get 'em superstar."

They both knew what had almost happened, both aware how close they were to getting "caught up in the moment" and letting the connection between them solidify. He sighed to himself and crawled out her window into the night just as he'd done so many times before, except this time regretting more than ever not just saying those three little words.

They figured it's kind of ironic that the day they finally talk about it is when they get too "caught up in the moment."

It's exactly the day anyone would expect it to be. Matt's closest brush with death. Oddly similar to that fateful night where Claire was just as, if not more uncertain as to whether or not he would survive.

His heart had stopped beating for a minute and 14 seconds. To Claire it had felt like a lifetime.

When he came to soon after his short meeting with the Grim Reaper, it took all of Claire's will not to slap him and scream every insult she could think of in his face. With her anger restrained by the logical side of her which knew yelling at him probably wouldn't be very helpful to his condition, all that was left was relief. She gently collapsed onto Matt more calm than she could ever recall. Feeling Matt's stuttering heartbeat under her cheek almost like a lullaby, while she whispered "idiot" over and over again into his skin. She felt his arm wrap around her and she pulled herself over next to him silently sobbing in relief.

Claire wasn't much of a crier. Even when her mother, no matter how estranged she was, died not a tear fell from her eye. It was only when she finally lifted her face from Matt's chest that she felt the wetness on her face that she had realized she had been crying and she viciously wiped away her tears. She stilled when she felt Matt's hand take hers and place it on his heart.

She looked him in his vacant eyes and figured it was time. Fuck this she thought I'm sick of all the acting and putting up fronts. Relief coursing through her veins and unsure of what to say she kissed him with all her heart, Matt's lips pliant and responsive beneath hers, tears still falling from her eyes. Out of breath she pulled away and whispered into his chest "I'm done pretending."

Matt never thought those would be the words to change everything. But, Matt being Matt prepared a speech anyway, ready to deny himself happiness for what he considered the "greater good." And of course, Claire being Claire saw that Matt was about to speak and sat up letting Matt's arm fall from around her, holding out her hand in front of his face knowing that even though he couldn't see it, he'd sense it anyway "I know what you're going to say."

Matt remained silent, waiting for her to continue, "Oh Claire, I can't be with you because I'm Daredevil and anyone and everyone I care about gets this giant target painted on their back."

She sighed, exasperated "Guess what? Newsflash Matt AKA 'the Devil of Hell's Kitchen,' you coming to my apartment every other weekend, no matter how sneaky you may be, is already painting a huge target on me. Your lone 'night nurse,' the only person you trust enough to get you patched up after you get fucked up in a fight. You don't think that may be valuable to some bad guy. Especially since I've already seen your face." She scoffed "Please."

She stopped angry that he'd affected her so much and took a breath "What I'm trying to say is, if you love me Matt, if that night meant anything to you, stop giving me excuses and tell me right this second how you feel or I will be the one who goes through that window, except I won't ever come back."

Matt paused and Claire waited. Just as she was about to get up having accepted his silence as an answer Matt wrapped his arm around her waist and said "I'm done pretending too," and pulled her in for a kiss, the contact bruising both of their lips as they tried to make up for lost time.

Even though they never really talk about that night, they both figure it doesn't matter because they know they would have wound up where they were now at some point anyway. Together.