A/N: OMG THE FEELINGS OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP
Love makes you a lot of things, even if it cannot make you good.
These sheets are soft around you, his lips on your forehead softer still. Oh, to be free—and for a moment you think you are, until the weight of his smile is heavy upon you. In the frenetic chaos and terror of your pain you heard him praying, voice hoarse, desperate, almost, but trusting. Faith in something he cannot see, as always.
So much faith, has Matthew Murdock. So much light. And if he was not blind, he might have seen the darkness in you sooner, might see it again now, and not be deceived.
But love is blind—
Oh, if only it were! Your love is like your anger, like your laughter—always pointed, always sure. You are never so calculating as when you are reckless, and it is quite dreadful, or would be, if you let yourself think of it. You are the least careless person you've ever known.
That makes you more dangerous than you if were truly unpredictable.
It was easier for you when he was angry. When you could tease and toy, and pretend that wistful wisdom was as far as your feelings went. But now he is smiling, and he is glad that you stayed—oh, God that he prays to, you do not deserve this—
How would it work? You and him, how would it work? Him loving so free and deep and pure, and you loving like a selfish, frightened child, reaching out your hands to cling like iron to the best man in all the city—in any city, maybe.
It is a dream. It will work, it must work, you lie to yourself, and this is new, this lack of prescience, or maybe it is old—maybe it is the inverse of the same dreadful feeling when the knife was in your hand and Matthew would not slay his age-old dragon.
That knife severed what you had, then. A knife again will do it—when you hear the fighting cease, when you know that he lives—and loves—
And it isn't even rage that overtakes you, but something deeper, quieter, deadlier. You strike and kill, and Matthew cries out as though it was him you struck—and it's only then that you are shaking, because you love him, you love him, and he believed in you—
But as beautiful as that was, you love him too much to allow it.