Hello all! Thank you for clicking on my story! My real name is Madison but you can all call me Maddie, since I usually prefer it. I appreciate reviews, as this is my first fanfic and I would like to get some feedback on what I need to change, what you feel about the story, if I'm writing anyone OOC, etc.

A little backstory for why I decided to write this. I recently became a huge fan of Daredevil through the Netflix series, and while I had always been a fan of superheroes growing up, I had never heard of him. I felt a connection to the character and fell deeply in love with the series when they had two main characters able to speak and understand Spanish, and how a hispanic woman was a big part of Karen's plot. Although I appreciated the effort for diversity, I longed to see a hispanic woman as a part of the main cast, and wondered how that would change anything, and thus, this was created. Since I myself am Mexican-American, I based Mariana on that. It really was important to me that I try to write someone that felt authentic and not like I was pandering about something I didn't know about.

I'm still trying to get the hang of this so please, no flames. Constructive criticism is welcomed and encouraged, though! Enjoy and tell me what you think and if I should continue!

Chapter One

She swears she locked the door.

Before anyone even got to the restaurant the next morning, she had already bussed the tables and started on the tortillas per her abuela's request. She was the only one who was willing to go back to start making the sticky masa mixture, and the only one who was dedicated enough to continue to do so after she grew up, something Mariana was very proud of. Her grandma likes to boast about it to her slacker cousins after all, and she very well couldn't embarrass her abuela now could she? Although she was very careful to be aware of her surroundings at those hours, you never knew what could happen at night. Hell's Kitchen may be her home but that didn't mean it was forgiving. Hence the door, which she could have sworn she made sure was locked in the first place. How did they get in the store then? There weren't any windows in the backroom and there wasn't any trash to take out, so how exactly was there an opening for them other than the front door.

As she was contemplating the door situation, she could feel the van she was currently tied up in the back of come to a harsh stop, which made her roll into the side and hit her head in the same place where she was bleeding. They had a bag over her that quickly soaked up the blood that started to pour from the wound she had gotten when they knocked her out, and it was throbbing something awful. The zip ties on her wrists were already starting to rub raw, but there wasn't exactly any way for her to remove them. She had tried to fight back but they were stronger, and she got beat to a pulp for her efforts. The world was still spinning and she felt like throwing up but it didn't seem like a good idea, these guys didn't seem like the type of people to help her clean up her mess, rather, they seemed like they would let her lie in it instead.

The sound of feet hitting gravel and then the doors opened and although she couldn't see what was happening, she could hear someone speaking quickly in a language she couldn't understand. German? Russian? Had to be, she had seen enough movies to recognize the sound of the harsh language. But what were the Russians doing with her? She was told it was Fisk who had a problem with them, and he certainly wasn't Russian. At least, she didn't think so. The Russians suddenly stopped talking as she was heaved into a sitting position before being pushed to the ground outside of the van. The small rocks were sharp and pierced the skin on her cheek as she skids forward, dust going up her nostrils and making it hard to breathe.

"Walk."

She lifted her chin off the ground and swung her head to the side where she heard the deep voice. "We at your place or mine? What kinda girl do you think I am sir? How naughty of you to assume."

It was the sound of a gun cocking and a pressure on the back of her head that made her breath intake and her smile drop. She may try to convince them she was a badass and had been in countless situations like these, but Mariana also didn't want to get killed for running her mouth before she got to wherever they were bringing her. The back of her shirt was used to lift her from the ground, and she was shoved forward once more. She almost tripped before she righted herself and started to walk to wherever they were leading her. Mariana tried to listen for any clues of where she was. They hadn't driven for long, but Mariana couldn't tell you how many minutes it had been. She was too busy annoying the hell out of the drivers for that, and she's pretty sure she succeeded. If there was one thing she was good at, it was running her mouth.

The sound of more Russian, this time yelling. Two people going back and forth in an argument it seemed like. The conversation was getting faster and faster as she was shoved into a chair and then tied to it. The gun never moved from her head, which kept her from thoughts of running. There was no way she would make it to an exit before they put a bullet through her skull, never mind the fact that she couldn't see where she was going in the first place. The pair of hands that were tying her feet together were no longer touching her, and she was hit with a bright light before she could really focus on the fact that the bag was no longer over her face.

"I wouldn't move if I were you."

She couldn't help but let out a laugh. What kind of line was that? This wasn't a movie, but the man in front of her had used one of the most unoriginal lines any villain could possibly say, totally cliché. The blow from the back of her head was unexpected, but not surprising. She was being a little shit, really, and she's pretty sure these were the type of guys whose hairline triggers were something she didn't want to mess with, for once. Although…

"Do you know why you're here?" Her eyes rolled, and she let out a sigh. Did she know what she was here for? Kind of. Did she really care why she was here? Not really. Was she getting out anytime soon? Probably not, but hell would freeze over before she let any information slip. So instead of saying anything, she simply raised an eyebrow, then winced when another blow came, this time to her stomach. Wasn't there some type of rule about hitting girls?

"Now you do not talk? We could not get you to stop in the van." He came forward and gripped her by the hair on her head so she was forced to meet his stare. "Speak before we take...other measures." Damn. Well, if she was already in deep shit there was no use in trying to get on their good side, not that she thought they had one. There was no going back, and Mariana hoped they would kill her before any torture started. The thought sent a wave of shock through her system. They're going to kill me, she realized. This wasn't one of the hypothetical situations she had grown up talking about with her family. She was really going to be murdered here. She would never get to see her family again, never get to talk to her best friend again.

Never see those families make it to a better place.

She looked through her one good eye and starred in the face of the man who kidnapped her. The man who would take down her family if she even let one hint of information slip. If she was going to be killed, she was going to go down mocking the shit out of this guy. She wanted him pissed, because when a man was pissed, they lost control, and if they lost control with her, maybe she would have a quick death. Her eyes narrowed. Ugly, but he could have been handsome if he tried. He still held her by the hair, and there was a sharp pain on her scalp that she ignored. She yanked her head back and could hear an audible ripping sound from the hair that came out. She tried to appear calm as she leaned into the chair like she owned the place, arrogance practically radiating from her.

"Sounds scary. But I'm sorry to tell you bud, first rule of fight club? Don't talk about fight club." Silence. One man coughed from a corner of the room and Mariana turned her head as much as she could to face him. He looked sheepish. She looked back to the man in front of her, where he hadn't moved from his crouched position over her.

"What you don't get movie privileges in Russian prison? That's unfortunate. Brad Pitt reminds me a little of you if you took a bath." She pretended to think about it. "Actually, skip the bath. You could definitely be Tyler if you wanted. You ever heard about something called cosplay?"

Before she got an answer, someone came out of the shadows. Gunshots exploded all around her and she screamed when she felt a bullet graze the skin near her ear. Her hand tried to come up and cover the wound, but she was still tied. Blood was everywhere and she could feel more of it rushing down the side of her face, warm and thick. Her screaming never ceased and she pulled more at the ropes around her middle with all the strength that she had left. Instead of escaping, the chair toppled over and her face slammed onto the cold, warehouse floor. Scared didn't even begin to cover the amount of terror that ran through her. From where she lay, she could only see what was in front of her, and it was the sight of a man wearing a black mask that seemed to calm her a bit. Not enough to stop screaming, but enough to think that maybe she had a chance of getting out of here alive.

All of Hell's Kitchen knew about the Devil. He came out in newspapers and gossip magazines alike, saying that he was a murderer, a hero. There seemed to be mixed reviews about him in the public, but Mariana knew a hero when she saw one.

The man in the mask wasted no time in fighting, he got right to business taking down anyone in his path. To be honest he was impressive, though you would never hear her say that out loud. Sometimes, when Mariana was alone in the apartment, she looked up videos of him online. There was a popular site that a lot of his fans went to, or rather, the people who were on his side. People he had helped personally, or just other civilians who felt like he was what this city needed. She had always done it in secret, he was a vigilante after all, and she was a good Catholic Hispanic girl, according to her immediate family. Sure, she'd been a bit of a wild child in her early years, but that was nothing compared to admiring the Devil. Good Catholic Hispanic girls didn't run around getting crushes on men who had cops and half of New York after them.

It worked for ma, she thought. Then again not everyone is as good a man as papi.

Suddenly, as she was contemplating screaming again and alerting the masked man where she was so he could untie her and she could run, she felt someone grab her by the hair on her head punch her in the face. Before the world went black, her last thought was that she was definitely going to have to get her cousin Marion to lend her more makeup.

She came to, and heard the raspy voice of a man. Her eyes tried to focus, but she was confused. The only thing she could make out was lips and a beard in front of her.

"Hey wake up. Ma'am please, I need you to be awake when we get to the hospital."

At the word hospital, she shot up from the position she was in on the ground. No. No hospitals, never any hospitals. For one she couldn't afford it, and hospitals were a no go for her and her family, she couldn't put them in that situation. Her head spun, but she quickly turned and grabbed the arm of what she realized was the masked man to her side. She could feel her body swaying from side to side and the urge to pass out again was quickly taking over, but she got the words out before she did any of those things.

"No, I can't. No hospital, no doctors. Home, I have to get home." She swallowed blood that was bubbling up her throat. He hesitated, and pulled her hand away from his forearm with force, but not enough to hurt her. She hadn't realized the strength she was using, the rest of her body felt weak but her hand had a tight grip on him. Once he got her hand off of him she fell back onto the floor like she had been before. There was a burn in her right side that was painful but manageable, what really worried her was the bruises. There was no way she was going to be able to hide this from her family, and she couldn't avoid them forever. The man tilted his head to the side and his jaw tensed. He seemed to be against the idea but Mariana wasn't about to pass out and let him take her there without her permission. No one would be able to come and get her anyways.

"Where do you live?", he asked. His voice was rough and made her shiver in a way that was definitely not out of fear or cold. Ay Mariana. Now is not the time, she chastised herself. It wasn't like she was a teenager anymore. She was a grown woman and this was definitely not the time to admire him or his stubble that she had imagined on her skin countless of times. Anyways, she would likely never see him on anything other than the computer screen again anytime soon, there was no use in even talking to him. He seemed to be waiting for her response.

"Oh right! Uh…" She quickly rattled off the first place that came to mind. He nodded once and helped lift her up. It was then that she noticed that the zip ties and ropes were gone. She touched the delicate skin on her wrists and winced. She would have to buy some ointment for the burn.

"Is your ear okay?"

"Huh?" she looked over at him. He pointed to her ear that was still bleeding. Her hand came up and touched the tip. There was only a slight stinging feeling

"You're ear. The bullet hit you there. Does it hurt? I was talking to you earlier but you didn't answer, so I just thought…", he trailed off. Oh, dear God. Oh, this was embarrassing. She could feel her cheeks flair up. Thank god for brown skin.

"Yeah! Um, my hearing is a little bit off I think, ha." She laughed sheepishly, trying to play it cool. She didn't want him to know that she had been staring at him a little too long and gotten distracted, instead. He nodded once more, this time slower, and continued to walk out of the warehouse they had taken her to.

She didn't live very far from there, it seemed. Maybe thirty minutes on foot, though it had seemed like an eternity when she was in the back of that god-awful van that smelled like piss and beer. The entire walk to her house she could feel the man watching her as she tried not to stumble through the streets looking like a drunkard. She was less than successful because by the third time she had managed to trip over a crack in the sidewalk, he grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her to his side. It felt nice and she tried to convince herself that it was only because she needed help walking that he even did it in the first place. Still, she couldn't help but feel giddy at the fact that he was touching her. Through her clothes, but still a win-win situation for her.

When they reached the building, she realized with horror that she had given him her old address, the one of her grandmother, parents, and every other family member that lived in the exact same building on the exact same floor. She tried to hide her wince but it seemed like he noticed, because his grip on her loosened. They walked into the opening of the door to the lobby when she opened her mouth to thank him lobby, and she heard her name come from the stairwell to their right.

"Mariana? What the hell are you doing?", her cousin Victor asked as he walked closer from where he had been taking the trash out to the dumpster. Mariana tried to make herself smaller to hide the fact that she was covered in blood, but failed to remember that the Devil of Hell's Kitchen was currently holding onto her side. It seemed though, that it hadn't even occurred to Victor because he saw her black eyes first and started yelling at the top of his lungs for someone to come downstairs, that Mariana was hurt and bleeding. Almost immediately the lobby was filled with five more people, all screaming and actually hurting her ear for real. She felt someone pull her from the Devil and lift her bridal style, while the others followed her and whoever was carrying her upstairs.

"What happened to you, oh my gosh!"

"What did I tell you about letting her go out at night to do your dirty work, Victor! You should be the one going out and helping for once!"

"I want to know who did this right now, Mariana!"

"Oh, tio is going to be so pissed."

"Wait! We should bring him up too! Look, he's bleeding!", the sound of Victor pushing the Devil behind them was heard by Mariana and the rest of her family stopped going up the stairs to turn back and look at the two. Her abuela emerged from the group and walked up to the masked man. As she got closer, he got even more tense, and by the time she was standing in front of him he looked ready to bolt. The sight would have made Mariana laugh any other time. The Devil scared of a little old lady? Well, abuela could be scary when she wanted to be. But it seemed like her grandmother was just trying to get a closer look at a cut on his face, because when she grabbed his jaw and tilted his head to the side gently, he let her. She was silent for a moment before she tsked.

"Ven. Tenemos algo adentro para usted.", and that was the end of it. Her family once more began to make noise as they crowded into the small hallways that led to her parent's apartment. Once inside, they lied her down on the red couch in the living room. The living room in the apartment she had grown up in. Mariana could smell the mixture of perfume her mother uses and the Antonio Banderas cologne her father thinks makes him more attractive (though her mom hated it and had tried to get him to stop using it for years) on the throw blanket on the back of the couch that she had knitted with her abuela when she was ten. She inhaled deeply. This was the smell of home, and it soothed her enough for her heart to calm down from its frantic beating.

"Quien es?" a feminine voice came from the bedroom. At the sound of the sweet voice, tears welled up in Mariana's eyes. The strength and adrenaline that had kept her going until she made it home, suddenly collapsed, and she just felt like sobbing. She had almost been killed. Her life would have been taken by men who her family didn't know and therefore, couldn't avenge her. She would have helped in keeping the families' safe, but it would have cost her her life. Mariana groaned and tried to call out to her mother, who had surely been asleep already and had been startled to hear such a large group of people run up the stairs and into her apartment. When she saw Mariana on the couch, she gasped and ran to her side where she cried as soon as the black eyes on Mariana's face came into view. Seeing her mother made her feel like a child again, and all she wanted was to be in her arms, but she couldn't, she had to protect her, and so Mariana did the only thing that she felt she could. She dried her tears and tried to reassure her mother.

"Ma I'm fine. No llores por favor. If you cry then I will too, and papi wouldn't want that for either of us, right?" Her mother nodded and tried to slow down her sobs. The family went quiet for a moment before Victor stepped up and said "I'm calling tio. Mariana.", she turned her head away from her mom and looked at the serious expression on the face of her cousin. He inhaled and held his breath for a moment before he spit the words out, "They'll pay." She nodded. There was no doubt in her mind that they would.

The sound of his footsteps echoed through the room before her grandmother clapped her hands and assigned everyone a job. Mariana wasn't paying attention and so she missed the instructions everyone was given as they scrambled to get their jobs done before her grandmother went after them. The Devil was standing in the middle of the living room awkwardly until her mother rounded on him and shoved his body into the Lay-Z-Boy that her father had been fond of ever since she was little. He used to put her on his knee and sing old Mexican lullabies that he grew up with, his dark eyes glinting in the night and his smile raining down on her as she slowly fell asleep.

"Sientate alli. Vamos a ayudarte con…", her mom seemed at a loss for words as she gestured to his getup and the cuts that littered his body. "...con todo eso." She quickly turned and grabbed the first aid kit that one of her other cousins had brought in. It was slightly larger than the average family had, but they did use it more than anything else in the house.

Her grandmother pushed her to the side and grabbed the medicine from her hands, she didn't look over to Mariana as she told her mother to tend to her daughter instead. Something was up, her grandmother seemed too keen on helping the other wounded person in the room, but she was too tired to question and just let her mom rush to her side and tend to her. The cooing sounds that came from her mouth were the same that she made when Mariana was little and would come into the room with a paper cut or a scab from falling off of her bike. These wounds were more serious, but she found comfort in the way that her mom never changed, no matter how old she got. She gently applied bandages where she could and moved the hair from her face in a soft gesture. By this time the water works had stopped and only Mariana was the one still trying to contain her sobs. Her eyes opened in time to see her tia shooing her half asleep younger siblings out the door, Andres holding Montse in his arms, her nightgown flowing behind her as he tried to leave as quickly as possible.

She was about to call out to them but thought better of it. There was no reason to scare them before they even fully woke up, or even scare them at all. Her body seemed to have other ideas as she tried to get up and go after them, but hissed when the pain in her side became a real problem. Her mom started fussing over her once more and concluded that her ribs had to be broken.

"Her ribs are bruised.", the man sitting in the chair called out while she lied back down. Mariana scoffed and then turned her head to him.

"You sure they aren't broken? I'm in a lot of pain here and I don't appreciate the vigilante trying to give his expert medical advice when he may not even be right in the first place." He smirked and then cleared his throat. He put both hands on the arms rests to lift himself up but her grandma smacked his hands away from them, making him sit down once more where she tried to finish cleaning his cuts, the sound echoing in the small room. It seemed that he had gotten out relatively unscathed compared to her. He sighed as he was pushed down but seemed against fighting an old lady. However, he continued the conversation from where he was.

"I'm positive. If you had any broken bones you would have been in a lot more pain, and I definitely would have taken you to the hospital whether you agreed to it or not. Trust me, I know what broken ribs feels like." Her mother laughed into her arm while holding the dirty rags she had used to clean the blood from her face. Mariana gave her a dirty look. Her mom was supposed to be on her side, wasn't she? They all knew how dangerous it could be for her to go to the hospital, they didn't need any more people on their case than they already apparently did. It wasn't even that funny, and Mariana grumbled out of embarrassment.

Her mom stood up to go to the kitchen to throw away the rags, but first, headed over to the guy before she did. "Oh, I like you.", she said with a wicked smile. There was laughter in her voice and although it was kind of annoying for her mom to side with a stranger over her own daughter, Mariana was glad that she wasn't as frenzied as she had been before. It was never good to have her mom worried about her, but typically she didn't give her a reason to. Mariana heard the trash can be opened and then closed, then the fridge. Her mom came back into the room with the sound of her chanclas flopping against the wood floors. In her hand was a tray of snacks that she set on the tiny table in the middle of the room, before taking a seat on it in front of the Devil. She nibbled on the galletas that they had gotten from the bakery down the street before she tilted her head and shoved the plate towards him.

"Eat. You must be hungry. I bet this isn't your last job of the night." He hesitated and mama rolled her eyes before grabbing his hand and forcing a cookie into it. She licked her fingers of the sugar and snickered when he stared at it instead of eating it.

"None of us are letting you leave unless you eat. I make it my job to feed those around me. And she will definitely hit you, no matter how injured you are." She pointed to abuela, who had finished up and was now heading to the kitchen to grab leftovers from dinner earlier in the week. She returned with a plate filled with arroz con pollo, the single tamale that was left over from the stash everyone knew about, and two chalupas that were stacked on top of each other, crushing the lettuce and tomato on the bottom one. He started to refuse, Mariana could see him struggling to do it in a polite way, but her family had never been one to beat around the bush. Or let anyone leave without a full stomach. Her mother grabbed both of his hands again and turned them upwards as her abuela put the plate on them, the cookie trapped between his palm and the paper plate. He sighed, but seemed resigned to the fact that he wasn't going to get out of this one. Mariana laughed and then clutched her side. Probably shouldn't have done that while my ribs are "bruised".

"Bruised, my ass.", she whispered. She heard him let out a small, soft laugh and her head whipped towards him. At first, she thought he was laughing at her, but she was too far away for him to hear. Her mom must have said something funny to him while she was complaining on the couch.

"Oh mija, I forgot to give you some ice! Let me go get that for you really quick." Mama stood up and rushed into the kitchen. Her abuela stood up to follow but then hesitated. She crouched down once more and touched his face. He flinched but then seemed to calm down when she started to pet him.

"Thank you.", she whispered in her withered voice, her accent heavy but still able to make out what she said. It came out with such conviction that Mariana started to tear up once more. They could do nothing to thank him but feed him and help with cleaning up his wounds. They had no money to offer, no clothes or really any expert medical attention, but what they had to offer seemed like it was enough for him, because he wasn't asking for anything else.

He nodded slowly and leaned back into the chair. When her mother came back into the room holding a bag of frozen broccoli, he seemed to perk up a bit and his voice rang around the empty room.

"I think we need to discuss what happened...and why exactly Fisk wants your family involved with him." Her grandma and mom turned to face each other before they both started to protest.

"I really think my husband should be the one to talk to you-"

"Estamos bien agradecidos por todo lo que has hecho pero no podemos hablar sobre-"

Mariana coughed to get their attention. Her mom shot her a look of anger, like she knew exactly what she was going to do. Well, Mariana always had a soft spot for superheroes.

"What would you like to know?"