Disclaimer: I own nothing associated with Marvel's Defenders series, or Daredevil. Parts of the dialogue may have been taken from the season finale of Defenders.
Author's Note: I've just finished watching the Defenders' series on Netflix. The story is mainly inspired by events in the final episode, and events in the Season 2 finale of Daredevil. Although the story's focus is mainly on Matt/Karen/Foggy, the other Defenders could make cameos every so often.
Title: The Way Back
"I just have this feeling that he's alive somewhere Foggy," Karen said. Foggy shrugged, not knowing what to say. He wanted to believe Matt lived, that he didn't just practically push his best friend to his death.
"He would've touched base by now if he lived Karen." Foggy struggled not to smile at the likely lie. Knowing Matt he would've followed his martyr impulses and stayed well away from anyone who knew him, and could maybe help him out of whatever trouble he found himself in.
Karen stood up. "Light a candle with me,"
He joined her at wall of candles. They lit one, and stood in contemplation a few moments. Foggy tried not to catch the hope in her posture. They exited into the sunshine, and stood a few more moments.
"He'd want us to go on with our lives Karen," Foggy said. She inhaled, and let go of the breath at once.
"It's crazy Foggy, I know. Nobody could've survived that. But I just… have this feeling. He wouldn't give up on us if he were in my position. No matter how long it took him, he would find an answer. Conclusive proof, a body. Something."
The truth burst out of Foggy. "I brought him the suit Karen. His life… lives were about to irreparably collide. And he would've taken us both down with him. Matt Murdock as the devil of Hell's Kitchen… Nobody would believe a blind man capable of that. He'd be tossed in the loonie bin for sure. Or they would believe him, and he'd lose his license, his livelihood. His cases would all have to be retried. I'd be dragged in for discipline, because I knew what he was doing. I had no choice. I didn't know he planned to blow that place up.
The tears were in her eyes making him wish he'd never spoken. She ran a hand through her hair. "I can't give up that easy," she said and left him standing on the steps staring after her.
Foggy started walking the other way. Matt's revelations had shaken the foundation of their friendship. To find out he was a superhero vigilante by night was one thing; he could deal with that. But finding out he'd been lying almost the entire time they'd known each other regarding his sight was another. He'd had to step away from him. He needed space to deal with that.
They'd started edging their way back to each other meeting for drinks every couple of weeks. Foggy tried to help him get past his darker urges by giving him extra case work. They'd been accepted grudgingly. In hindsight he knew in his gut the day of the earthquake his friend would resume his other job. And there was nothing he could do to stop him.
He had little idea of what damage Elektra did to him. Matt never spoke of what happened between them before her death. He remembered how happy she made him, and his fervent, almost religious belief that they could be together away from all the darkness.
His actions that night in bringing him the suit were as much about self-preservation than anything. If Matt went down, he'd go with him. His friend often led with his heart, and dealt with the consequences later. He knew that sense of justice might be thing to get him killed.
Foggy shook his head. He'd never be free of Matt Murdock.
Karen left the office late that evening. She walked the streets, her mind wandering to her relationship with Matt. When he met her at the office that day she knew something was off. She arrived before him, and was collecting her things ready to end the Nelson-Murdock chapter of her life.
She heard his cane tapping along the hallway, and stood up from the desk. She didn't want him at the advantage of standing. He smiled as he entered, the paper bag under his arm. He had the look of a man who'd come to a decision, as he set it before her withdrawing to near the doorway.
"Open it," he urged. She unrolled the top and reached in, her hand coming in contact with a smooth texture. She pulled it out, almost dropping it on the desk as she realized what it was. The red horns protruding from the top, the spots for eyes, and mouth.
"I'm the Devil of Hell's Kitchen," he told her. She paced, the floorboards creaking underneath her shoes. It somehow made sense. The gestures she'd noticed when he'd rescued them at the warehouse were familiar. His one hand lingered on her face, not unlike when they kissed in front of her building. She thought she was crazy, wanting a rescuer so bad, she conjured him out of thin air. But…
"You're blind," she went with the obvious. He seated himself, she remained standing.
"Not exactly. The accident left me with certain abilities. My sense of hearing, smell, touch, and taste are all hyper-sensitive. I knew you were at the warehouse because of your perfume. I could hear you talk to the other hostages from outside. "
She paced again, taking up a position near the window.
"I can hear your heart beat from here. I'm still me Karen." It was meant to reassure her. He pushed up from his chair to join her at the window. She moved away.
"Elektra?"
A smile appeared, and vanished. She'd cut straight to the quick.
"The one that got away." Not exactly a lie. Matt had some time to reflect, and a little honest with himself. They probably wouldn't be able to make it work. They were oil and flames, the heat high enough to consume both.
She let it go for now, noting to pursue it later. She moved back to the desk and shoved the mask back in its bag. "I need time with this." She wanted to let it settle in. What does it mean when your boyfriend(?), announces he beats up bad guys.
"Does Foggy…" she started a question she already knew the answer to.
"He found me in my apartment after I'd been badly beaten."
"I see." She answered. It explained a lot about the decaying relationship between Nelson and Murdock. Secrets like that took some adjustment.
"I wanted you to know. Your goodness, your spirit both feed something in me. They make me want to be a better person. I want to be worthy of you. I can't do that without being honest with you." He'd closed the distance between them and was touching her face. She stilled letting him for a few moments, and shivered. He leaned further into kiss her.
She put her hands between them "I need time Matt." She said. He backed away, a hopeful smile spread across his face. She hadn't said no. She shouldered her coat and raised the box on a shoulder. He moved to help her with it: "I've got it thanks.
She paused in the doorway looking at him. He'd regained his cane ready to leave as well. "I will call you." She promised. He smiled at her words.
Two weeks later, her editor gave her the story on a Monday. She'd read through the brief, and saw his name in bold print. When he won the case, it was a chance to get an exclusive. They met at the diner halfway between their apartments; her questions prepared it was a quick interview. She turned off her recorder, and sat back. The man across from her was happier, more relaxed than the last time she saw him.
"How are you?"
His guard started dropping as he hemmed and hawed over the answer. "I'm good. I gave up the, night life. It's been an adjustment. " There were evenings where he was crawling out of his skin. "I realize that I'm still fighting for justice. The only difference is, I'm in a suit and the venue is a courtroom,"
She sipped her coffee. She was hoping he'd realize that. "I have time for friends now," she coloured at the last statement. He laughed.
"That wasn't meant as anything. Just that I have time for my friends. If I could find them. Foggy and I are starting to find our way again," Matt was glad for that. He blamed himself for what happened to their partnership.
"Good." The waitress returned with a hot coffee pot. Matt put his hands over the mug indicating no more. "I will be up the rest of the night. But thank you though." He stood, his hands searching for his jacket, and shrugged into that. She put on her own coat.
"Share a cab?" She asked.
"No. We probably shouldn't resume old patterns. I'll call you soon," he promised.
"Okay." She agreed.
'Soon' turned into a midnight appearance while she was busy working a follow-up story to the earthquake. She'd hung up the phone and noticed a light on that shouldn't be. "Hello?" She called, going to investigate. His hand grabbed her arm from the shadow. His appearance worried her. He was without a tie, his shirt wrinkled, dirty, and untucked. The hand had a couple of bruised knuckles, and there was skin on his cheek turning a bright green colour.
"What happened to you Matt? Was it the earthquake? Because there's more to it than that. I've been researching, and tracing leads. There's some bad shit going on."
"I know. You need to grab your things, and come with me. I need to keep you safe," He still wasn't sure how yet. Her laptop was already in her bag, and she took a coat from the back of her chair. She was silent until they were outside.
"You've been back to it again," she said. He stopped facing her. "I've had no choice this time. They've brought the fight to me, and my city. And now they're coming for you." He hissed. He stole a kiss before taking her hand again. They moved fast through the streets, entering the police station. "Here," he held the door open to a breakroom where Foggy, a blonde woman, and a few others were settling in.
"I'll be back as soon as I can," She nodded as the door closed. If she knew that was the last time she'd see him alive she might have gone with him. She might have kissed him back harder, begged him to stay out of it. To let Luke, and Jessica, and the police solve this one. But that wasn't Matt Murdock. If there was a wrong that needed righting he would be there.
Karen looked up from her wanderings. She stood in front of his building. If he was still living, she'd some clues in his apartment.
Matt felt like he was drowning. The more he swam, the worse it became; it was as if he was going against the tide. Awareness of sounds returned to him; muted voices speaking in soothing tones. Touch was next; the coarse stiffness of the bandages covering the top half of his body.
Wait… Was this what death sounded like? Was this what it felt like? He struggled against the tide a final time. He screamed as awareness flooded back, the pain enough to push him back against the pillows.
Well? What do you think? Up next maybe an appearance from Danny Rand