Author's Note: Hello everyone! Welcome to Found It In Silence - I'm so happy to share this with you. Enjoy!
Prologue
Matt Murdock was not the monster the world was portraying him to be.
The newspapers that adorned his masked face across the front pages only fuelled his fire. His intentions when he first started out as the masked vigilante was never to cause harm to those who were innocent. He had his reasons for what he did; and just like everyone else who needed an output, his was taking down the bad guys of Hell's Kitchen.
They were true when they said you never forget your first. And Matt's first was a man who had been abusing his daughter, and had gotten away with it. He knew the young girl needed justice, and the good people – the police – had let the father walk with nothing but a slap on the wrist. Matt couldn't let it go, and he had taken it upon himself to give the girl the justice she deserved. He would never forget the feeling of his fists pummelling the man's face as he vented his anger out on someone who truly deserved it. When he could no longer hear the crying girl next door with the only barrier being the thin wall between them, he knew he had done the right thing. Even now, since having moved out a while ago, he still checked up on her to make sure the abuse hadn't started up again. It was always his last check of a night before he descended back inside knowing that his city was safe for the night.
He had been eighteen at the time and even though it had been ten years since he found her justice, he often wondered where she was in life now. He had stopped checking on her when she moved out; the familiar beat of her heart no longer pounding anywhere around Hell's Kitchen. He thought about the last ten years and how far he had come. He was now a lawyer with his best friend; a job he loved more than he would ever admit. Finding justice the right way – the conventional way - gave him a buzz but never the same buzz that he got from being out there, hidden by the cloak of darkness, and relying heavily upon his fighting skill and his senses.
But his city was turning against him.
They were becoming blindsided by the news reports announcing him as the enemy that they should be looking out for and turning in. He had to be more careful knowing that all eyes would be looking out for him. It helped him in the long run; his movements were more controlled and precise. His beatings were more determined and hard-hitting. He would only allow himself to feel such anger in that moment, as he pummelled his fists into the face and body of the targeted person.
And one thing he always made sure of was that he never targeted just anyone. They had to have a reason to have caught his attention. He would sit on his roof, allowing his hearing to scan the surrounding areas, waiting for anything to capture his attention and rattle him. Most came at night, where with the blanket of darkness descending upon Hell's Kitchen would allow the monsters to slip out of the cracks.
His friend Foggy Nelson would always joke about him tracking down the Daredevil of Hell's Kitchen and turn him to get a reward. Matt would always smirk and chuckle in response, hoping the conversation would move on quickly. Foggy never picked up on the nervousness radiating from Matt which Matt could only deem was a good thing. As he could pick up on everything, it was surreal to know that no one else was in tune to other's the way he was.
It had been something that had taken a long while for him to truly become comfortable with. It had been confusing, frustrating and overwhelming all in the same moment, but he had to allow himself the time to get used to everything that had happened to him. He had been a young boy when his world was turned upside down, and he had to wait for himself to settle and accept the change.
As he listened to Foggy read out another article about Daredevil, Matt remained silent even though he wanted to jump his own defence. The picture the newspapers were painting of him was that of a monster.
He wasn't a monster. He understood that the more times it was written and spoken about, the more people were going to believe it. And sooner or later, and the more times he was told something about himself, he would begin to believe it.