"KAREN!" he yelled. "Please God, no, oh God..."
He had heard the bullet enter her flesh. The sound of its steel crawling its way into her chest would haunt him forever. He hadn't been able to stop it. He hadn't been able to stop him. Dex had fired right before Matt gave him that last punch. He hadn't missed. He had shot Karen.
"Matt..?"
Her voice, her beautiful, sunny voice, was weak and shaky. He ran to her side, knelt and took her in his arms. Her blood was flowing, covering his hands, his chest.
"It's okay, Karen, you're gonna be okay."
She was shivering. "I can't... I can't feel..." she stammered.
Matt held her closer, her head in the crook of his arm. "Shhh, it's gonna be all right," he whispered, "I promise. I will fix this. I-"
"Matt, for the love of God, please shut up," she said. Her voice was weak, but her heart as strong as ever. "I'm not gonna make it," she continued, "and we both know it."
He shook his head. "Don't-"
"Please, let me talk." She gulped and took in a deep breath, as much as she could. "I wish... I wish we had more time. But I'm afraid my time is running out. And I... I want you to know... I want you to know that it's not your fault, Matt. None of this was."
Of course it was his fault. He has sworn to keep her safe. He had failed. When he had learnt that Dex would come after her again, he should've ended his life. But once again, he had been caught up in this Catholic nonsense. He had made a mistake, a mistake he would never atone for. "I could've stopped him, I should've killed him when I got the chance..."
"No, Matt, you would've killed yourself in the process, and I would've never forgiven myself for this. Your might think that you're the devil, that... That there's a darkness in you you can't fight. But I've seen the light. I've seen this beautiful light of yours, and I want you to promise me you'll do everything in your power to keep it alive." With difficulty, she managed to bring her hand to his cheek, and caressed it, oh so gently. Her cold hand felt like a feather against his skin. "Promise me, Matt."
It was a plea. She knew him. She saw right through him. He couldn't promise her he wouldn't hate himself for this, but he could promise her he'd try to hold on to her smile, her own light. "I promise, Karen," he answered, his voice feeble.
"Good." She chuckled, before coughing some more. "It's the first time you truly comply to my orders."
It wasn't happening. It couldn't be. "Please, Karen..." he begged, tears forming in the corners of his eyes.
"I'm sorry, Matt. I'm sorry I can't stick around. I promised I'd never leave you. I lied." She was crying. Hot tears and hot blood. He was drowning in it all.
"No, you didn't," he assured her, caressing the top of her head, his hand relishing the softness of her hair. "You've kept your promise. You're not leaving me. You'll never leave me."
Silence sank down on them. They had no time for silence. "Did you forgive me?" she inquired, her eyes half-closed.
Matt narrowed his eyes. "What?"
"When we stopped Fisk, the second time. I... I told you... I told you I hoped you'd forgive me before my funeral. I guess the time has come. So did you?"
He closed his eyes and held back the flow of tears that was threatening to cascade down his cheeks. "Of course I did, Karen. I could never be mad at you. You've always been one of the few good things in my life. This light you saw in me, this light... it's you, Karen. I don't know how I'll keep it alive without you to lighten up my life." His heart was pounding fast, while hers slowly gave up.
"But you just said it," she remarked in a smile. "I'll always be there." She ran her fingers over his trembling lips, and stared at them, as if trying to remember their shape for later. For the other side. "I love you, Matt," she let out in a whisper. "I'm sorry I never got the guts to tell you. But I've loved you for so, so long. Like I've never loved anyone else in my life. I love you."
He had been waiting to hear those words forever. He tought he'd never hear them. He had hoped he'd never hear them. Because he was unworthy of her love. Because she deserved better. Because loving him was a curse. And the curse was upon them. He kissed her forehead, one, two, three times, his lips trying to catch the remnants of warmth of her flesh. "Karen, I love you, I..." He couldn't hear her heart anymore. Hear head was resting against his chest.
"Karen? KAREN?" he cried. He shook her body, desperately trying to wake her up. And he kissed her cold lips, over and over again. But he was no prince.
"No, no, no, please, Karen talk to me, no! It's not fair! Please don't take her, her time has not come! Please! Lord, please let her stay!" he screamed.
The tears he had tried to hold back were now unleashed. The Devil of Hell's Kitchen was sobbing, unable to stop the tide, unable to keep the pain in. He thought he might explode. He felt like the world was swallowing him whole, that Doomsday had come. There was no then, no now, just the nagging, searing pain coursing through his veins, digging a hole in his chest. "Karen, I love you, I love you, I love you..." He kept repeating those words, his upper body rocking back and forth. It was like a chant, the chant of a broken man with a full heart. He tried to pour his love out on her, perhaps hoping it would bring her back. But it didn't.
He wasn't the Man Without Fear. He had never been. His greatest fear had always been to live in a world without her.
And now she was gone.