Hello. I really don't know what I'm doing. I really, really didn't want to post this, especially having just finished my Avengers fanfiction. I still have two Austin and Ally ones going too, but what can I say? Daredevil was calling me. Or more or less, Charlie Cox was. I swear Marvel's going to kill me one day with all their super sexy British Actors.
Sorry. Let me re-introduce myself. I'm AAG1D. And I might be sort of obsessed with Daredevil which is ironic, because some parts of the show make me sick. It's just that Charlie Cox does such a good job portraying the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, that I couldn't help myself from falling in love. Hence why I started writing this fic.
I can't promise continuous updates every week. I DO have a life, despite what all my friends believe. Also, I warn you now that parts of it will not be compatible with the show - such as how Matt grew up before and after the accident. But for the most part I shall do my best to please, and I hope you all enjoy my eventual Matt/OC.
22 Years Ago
Matt was nervous, to say the least.
He bit his lip, hands clenched tight to his books as his gaze drifted past the glass walls of the principle's office. Eyes squinting at the harsh glare the fluorescent lighting gave off, he could already make out the cliques at the new school. Primary years or not, kids gathered according to interest. His biggest fear was finding a group to fit into. Or worst - fitting into the wrong group.
His father's conversation with the principle filtered in and out. Short attention span... low reading comprehension... he cringed as the principle whistled as his father listed off his faults. He knew it disappointed his dad despite how much his father tried to hide it. He wanted the best for Matt, but Matt just couldn't find it in him to try harder at academics. They weren't as interesting as his superhero comics, or baseball glove.
The principle finally turned to Matt, stretching an obviously strained smile over his features, leaning down much too close to Matt's face for his liking. His breath reeked of garlic.
"Well, I'm sure you'll fit in just fine here at Hell's Kitchen Elementary, Matthew," Matt tried not to cringe as spit flew from the principle's mouth, and landed between his feet. Finally the man returned to his full height, facing his father once again. Matt heard the shrill screech of the bell, but made no indication to move from his father's side.
"I'll just need you to sign the rest of the papers, Mr. Murdoch, and then I can take Matthew here to his new classroom."
His father smiled politely, though Matt could tell his father was frustrated. He had signed at least a dozen other papers that morning already. Matt was going to a new Grade School for crying out loud - not selling his body to science.
Another good fifteen minutes passed before he finally said goodbye to his dad. During the entire period he stood awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with the grouchy old secretary who walked past twice. When he finally stepped into the school's hallway it was almost a relief despite the fact that his father was no longer by his side.
With the hallways empty they seemed much larger, and Matt was scared that if he didn't keep up with the principle the halls would swallow him whole. The classes that they passed were already in session, and Matt was cursing the inevitable production his late arrival would garner. They arrived at an open door within minutes.
"Ms. Boles," The principle smiled at the young woman with fiery red hair and harsh green eyes once they had stepped inside. Immediately Matt felt all eyes swivel onto him, and he wished nothing more than that he was invisible at that moment. "This is your new student, Matthew Murdoch."
A chorus of hellos.
Ms. Boles smiled at him.
It looked more like a maniacle smirk of glee.
"Lovely. There's a seat beside Teresa in the corner."
The principle left as Matt made his way to the double desk in the back corner. A girl with long curly brown hair scowled. "My name's Terrianalynne, not Teresa," The girl didn't even give him a second glance as he sat down, as she was too busy scowling at the teacher. Ms. Boles only smirked.
"Now, now, Teresa," She put emphasis on the name. "Your parents have registered you as Teresa, and so that is what you shall be called. Now, back to addition..."
The teacher's droll was lost on Matt, as he stared curiously at the girl beside him. Her eyes were green with flecks of golden brown, and a smarter of freckles actually made her quite pretty.
"You're staring," She finally broke him out of his thoughts, eyes not even wavering from the board. "You're the new kid. I'm supposed to be staring at you, not the other way around."
"Sorry," Matt immediately flushed at being caught. "What's with the name?"
The girl stiffened for a minute. Matt thought she wasn't going to tell him as she chewed her lip, and clearly contemplated it. She surprised him when she finally blurted, "My parent died last year in a car accident and I've been in the foster system. Only this family wants to adopt me, and since the papers are almost through, they've decided to change my name cause they think Terrianalynne is too weird. I don't want to stay with them though."
Matt blinked twice at the onslaught of information. "Oh," He eloquently responded. The girl blushed this time.
"Sorry, let's start over," She offered him a timid smile. "I'm Terrianalynne Jacquelette," The long name was almost funny coming from such a small girl. Matt smiled back.
"Matthew Murdoch," He returned. "Though most just call me Matt."
"Can I call you Matty?"
He chuckled. "I guess if you really want. No one's ever called me that before."
"Goody," Her toothy grin did something funny to his stomach, but he thought nothing of it. "Do you want to play with me at recess? I don't play dolls, I promise."
Another laugh. "As long as you promise."
She raised her left hand, placing her right across her breastbone. "I swear."
"Don't swear!" Matt gasped before he could help himself, speaking a little louder than he had meant to, and earning a glare from some prissy girl in front of him. "It's bad."
She frowned. "Are you religious or something?"
He nodded solemnly. "Catholic," He explained. "You?"
She shook her head.
"Oh," Matt accepted that. A hand grabbing his gave him pause.
"Why are your hands all bruised?"
Matt blinked. For a weird moment he almost thought she looked... hopeful? It was gone quickly as he explained, "My dad's a boxer. He sometimes shows me a few things."
"Oh," Her face became closed off. He decided to let it slide. She reached into her backpack a moment later. "Give me your hand," she suddenly demanded.
"Why?"
She rolled her eyes. "So I can put a band aid on it. Duh."
"Men don't need band aids," Matt argued, though he found himself reaching her hand towards her anyways.
"That's stupid," She countered. "Everyone needs band aids."
Matt said nothing as Dora the Explorer covered his one busted knuckle. Despite his slight humiliation at the feminine band aid, he smiled. "Thanks. You always carry band aids?"
"You're welcome," she smiled. "And lucky for you, yes, I do always carry band aids. You never know when you might need them," Her face became distant once again. Matt frowned at the tone of her voice, but didn't want to pry.
Changing the topic he asked, "When's break here, TJ?"
"TJ?" She quirked a brow. Heat coloured the tips of his ears, but he absolutely refused to let it slip onto his cheeks. "Yeah, you know... your initials. Not going to lie, I don't think I can pronounce your name. And I didn't want to call you Teresa since you clearly hate it, but I need to stop referring to you as 'she' and so TJ it is," He sort of rambled.
Relief filled him when she giggled. "I like it. TJ and Matty, best friends for life."
"Yeah," Matt agreed as he finally relaxed in his desk, his previous worries about friends leaving him. "TJ and Matty."
He didn't stop smiling all day.
Present Day
Matt was having a crap day.
That was probably an understatement. For starters, Foggy changed his brand of hair gel. While it didn't seem like that big of a deal, for a man with heightened senses, which just so happened to also include a heightened sense for smell, the strength at which the gel wafted from Foggy's hair was unbearable. Matt didn't want to be impolite, but seriously. Was no one else getting a headache?
Or perhaps the headache was coming on due to Karen's incessant rambling. As much as he appreciated their secretary, there were times when she could push his buttons. Such as when he was sitting in his cramped desk chair, starving due to lack of breakfast, and having a whole list of clientele complaints spieled at him.
Not a great morning starter.
Of course, the morning wouldn't be half as bad had he not stayed up to three the previous morning as Daredevil. He really hadn't meant to be out so late - honest - it just sort of happened. A nasty slice on his torso ended up in him getting another lecture from Claire, as well as about twenty stitches. To say he was able to sleep after that would be a lie. And a poorly given one at that.
He fought back a sigh as he adjusted his glasses. He wasn't sure if it was just because he was in an irritable mood that morning, but the plastic pegs were digging into his nose. He felt like suing someone. Or better yet, beating someone up and then suing them just because he could.
"Matt are you even listening to me?" Karen's thoughts interrupted his as he rubbed his eyes. They were tired, though he wasn't sure from what. It wasn't like he actually used them or anything anymore.
"Dude, are we gonna have to restrict your Daredevil time or something? This is like your third day this week you've been off. And don't think I don't see the bruise creeping on your neck. And not a sexy, hickey bruise, but like a Matt-got-his-ass-handed to him bruise," Foggy sputtered off.
Matt fought a wince as his friend's words seem to bounce off the walls, and get louder. "Sorry guys," He apologized genuinely. "Lot on my mind recently."
"Like actual lawyer business-sy stuff on your mind, or just plain old Daredevil stuff?" Foggy questioned. Matt pursed his lips.
"June third is next week."
"June third?" Karen questioned. "Is that date important somehow?"
Matt bit his lip and felt his stomach twist. "No. Just letting sentiment get in the way."
Foggy snapped, and Matt could just picture his face wrinkled in concentration. "Wait a sec, isn't that the day that Terry girl left you?"
"Terry girl?" He could hear the curiosity in Karen's tone. "Were you two a thing?"
Matt fought the urge to throw Foggy out of the window for bringing it up. He felt his body stiffen. "First off, Foggy, her name is Terrianalynne. Secondly, she didn't leave me - her foster parents made her move. And to answer your question Karen, in all honesty the last time I saw her was over thirteen years ago, so even if we ever were a thing, it doesn't matter anymore."
"Doesn't matter," Foggy scoffed, and Matt could hear the disbelief in his tone. "The first time I met you, you were all doom and gloom because she was gone. So of course I thought, hey! What better idea than to befriend the blind guy pouting on the front steps of the University! Cuz that turned out so well," He mumbled the last part.
"I was not pouting."
"He was totally pouting," Foggy assured Karen, and Matt could tell from the vibrations in her chest that she was holding back a laugh.
"Moving on to more important matters," Matt cleared his throat, "I'm seriously fine, I swear. I just tend to keep myself a little more distracted this time of year than most. Even if it results in 'Matt-got-his-ass-handed to him bruises,'" He joked. Foggy didn't laugh. Come to think of it, Foggy never laughed at his jokes around that time of year.
To his utter embarrassment, his stomach let out a growl. He heard Foggy moan. "Don't tell me you're starving yourself too."
Matt fought an eye roll, though he knew it would be pointless behind his red glasses. "No, Foggy, I'm not starving myself. Merely forgot to eat."
"Of course you did," He felt something jut into his lap, and he picked up his cane confusedly. Foggy just made another sound of exasperation, as though speaking with a four year old. "Come on, it's not like we have free bagels here."
"You're still sore about that, aren't you?" Matt stood up, donning his jacket while he did.
"Dude, Free. Bagels. Every single morning. What's not to be sore about? You head out man, I'll catch up. Just have to run a few things by Karen before we leave."
Just judging from his tone, Matt could tell that something was off. His suspicions were confirmed as he caught Foggy whispering quickly to Karen, "I don't know much, just that she was his childhood best friend..."
By the time Foggy finally joined Matt on the sidewalk a good five minutes had passed. Matt didn't bring it up though. If he did Foggy would start to question him about how he was really feeling - a habit they seemed to follow every year which Matt wasn't too keen on. As he had told Karen it had been over thirteen years since he had last seen her anyways. He ought to move on.
Foggy's arm looped through his out of habit. He really didn't mind. In fact, the simple gesture reminded him of simpler times, before the Daredevil stuff tared their friendship.
He missed those times.
"So," Foggy raised his voice over the traffic, though Matt had no issue zeroing in on it. "What are you feeling? Pastry and Coffee? Good old eggs and ham?"
Matt's stomach grumbled again. "The works sounds good."
"IHOP it is," Foggy agreed, turning them down the street. They walked in silence for a bit before Foggy spoke up. "So," Here it comes. "How are you really doing Matt?"
"Sore," He offered. He could almost feel the look Foggy was giving him.
"I'm serious buddy," Foggy insisted. "Last year you were so depressed that you called in sick to work three days in a row. The year before that you broke up with that one chick for no other reason than that it was June third. And don't even get me started on-"
"Alright, Foggy," Matt found his teeth grinding together as he stopped his friend. "I get it."
"Do you?" Foggy pushed on. "Cuz why do I keep getting the strange vibe that you don't?"
Matt's hand tightened around his cane.
"And why can't you just leave it-"
Matt's anger dissipated as something rammed into him, knocking his feet out from under him. Out of habit his body stiffened, his senses flaring on red alert. He was vaguely aware of shouting and Foggy asking if he was fine. Whatever - whoever - rammed into him gasped for breath.
"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry."
Matt's body clenched again, though this time for an entirely different reason. Blood rushed through him as his breathing stopped, his mind kicking into overdrive. Because it couldn't be. It just couldn't be.
"Hey! Stop that woman!" The shout got closer. But all Matt could focus on was the woman struggling to get off of him. He never could forget the scent of her hair.
Gruff hands helping him up. Foggy. "Jesus," His best friend breathed towards the woman. "Watch where you're going."
"I'm sorry," Another mumble. A tightening in Matt's chest. "Just please-"
Her escape was cut off as his hand reached out with snake-like precision to grab her wrist. He almost dropped it when he felt how thin it was, but there was no mistake.
"TJ?" The name was nothing more than a whisper on his tongue.
But it was enough to have the woman freeze. Matt was more than aware of how her heartbeat started moving erratically, almost as though having a panic attack. The jingling of keys and the like alerted him to two other males joining them.
"Stop right there," A gruff sounding one - a security guard if the oil on his gun was anything to go by - insisted. The woman in his grasp struggled.
The other man, a slightly out of breath one arrived moments after the guard. "Thank you, good sir for stopping this thief."
But Matt's attention was elsewhere. "TJ?" He asked again, terrified that his mind was decieving him. Scared witless, that it was all in his imagination. But that's when he heard it.
"Matty?"