Written for the Daredevil Kink Meme prompt: . ?thread=1391376#cmt1391376.
Forget Me Not
Matt Murdock slowly regained consciousness, struggling to open his eyes. Something was making his mind fuzzy, soft around the edges, dulling his senses. The world on fire was non-existent, replaced by a world of darkness. His heart rate began to speed up and his breath came in short, quick gasps. Matt didn't know where he was.
The last thing that he remembered was going to the bar near campus with Foggy. He hadn't wanted to go but as usual Foggy talked him into it, said they needed to celebrate a milestone of some sort. He couldn't remember exactly what they were celebrating, but Foggy would come up with the most ridiculous excuses to drink.
Matt needed to calm down. He wasn't a nine year old boy anymore. Taking a deep breath, Matt tried to figure out where he was. His cheek was lying on rough pavement and an unsteady reach with his left hand told him a brick wall was at his back. He could smell vomit and garbage; perhaps he was in an alleyway? Matt started to push himself onto his knees, only to let out a hoarse cry when the movement caused searing pain to ripple through his backside. He collapsed back onto the harsh pavement, panting heavily, and tears filling his eyes.
Matt had spent most of the night perched on a stool at the bar while Foggy flirted with various 'smoking babes' as he referred to them. He would never tell Foggy, but he found his flirting attempts rather comical. But he preferred when Foggy was trying to hook up rather than helping him find someone.
Matt lay still on the ground, hoping that the pain would recede. He wasn't stupid though. He knew what that pain meant. Ignoring the tears falling down his cheeks, he reached into his pockets, hoping to find his phone. His shaking fingers closed on the hard plastic. His attacker hadn't bothered to take his phone. It wasn't a mugging.
A man had sat next to Matt and introduced himself, distracting Matt from watching Foggy. The man had offered to buy Matt a drink, which Matt accepted, sensing that the man was trying to flirt with him. What Matt didn't notice, was the bartender winking at the man as he served Matt the martini.
Flipping his phone open, Matt hesitated. He wanted to call Foggy. Foggy would help him. But he couldn't let Foggy see him like this. Foggy, who was a sweet and beautiful person, was so innocent. Matt couldn't be the one who ruined that view of the world for him.
Matt was already quite drunk when he received his martini. He did not sense or taste the drug that had been put into his drink. He accepted another from the man, enjoying his company. When Matt began to not feel well, the man acted like a perfect gentleman, leading him outside and patting his back when he began to vomit.
"911, state your emergency," the operator chirped through the phone and Matt almost dropped the phone, startled by the operator's voice. "I need assistance," Matt whispered hoarsely, surprised at the harsh sound of his voice. "I've been…..a-assaulted," Matt managed to stammer out, unable to say the word raped. Maybe if he didn't say it out loud, it would be like it didn't happen.
By that time, the mixture of the alcohol and the drug had caused Matt to become disorientated. He no longer knew where he was or who he was with. Stumbling against the wall, he fell to his knees, unable to support his own weight. He felt someone's hand's on the zipper of his trousers and tried to push them away, but his body was no longer cooperating.
"There he is!" A policeman shouted, seeing Matt lying against the wall. The policeman ran down the alley way, paying attention for any sign of the attacker. Seeing no one but Matt, he crouched down and gently touched his shoulder. "Matt? I'm Officer Brad Mahoney and we're here to help you."
Matt could feel the man's hands on his body, caressing his hair, kissing his neck. He passed out at that point, his last memory of the man pulling down his pants.
Matt flinched at the unexpected contact, whimpering in fear. Realizing that the touch came from someone there to help him and not hurt him, he tried to relax. He allowed the officer to help him up and lead him over to the ambulance. The journey to the hospital went by quickly, followed by a lengthy medical examination and questioning by the police.
Office Mahoney glanced in at Matt. The younger man was very pale, his fingers clenching and unclenching the bed sheets. It was a pity that his attacker was likely to get away with his horrible crime. There wasn't much that could be done though unless someone could identify the man from the bar. "Matt, is there someone we can call?" Brad asked the younger man, hoping that he had someone who could help him through his recovery.
Matt shook his head. He could hear his mentor saying "Surrounding yourself with soft stuff isn't life, it's death". And he had been right.