AN: Hello, everybody! Here's chapter two from Matt's perspective. Uploaded every other day as promised! Enjoy!

The ominous, loud crack of thunder woke Matt from his everlasting daze of sleep. He wasn't aware of long he's been out, and he's not a hundred percent sure where he was or how the hell he was still alive? All he can remember is being with Elektra as Midland Circle Financial collapsed on the both of them. He then woke up in a convent...was it? He recognized the scents and smells from a lifetime ago. It was the orphanage. Saint Agnes orphanage...or so he thought.

Matt was trying to block out the outside calamity seeping into the church. He began trying to examine all of his injuries.

"They've done some work on me..." he thought.

"The broken rib is back where it belongs. I'm not bleeding," he analyzed. He noted that just about every inch of his body was in pain. His whole body was littered in black and blues and soon-to be yellow bruises. The one other thing that shocked Matt is that he was buried in all of that rubble and debris, yet not one big chunk of it crushed any of his limbs. For that he was simply thankful and almost as shocked at the fact that he was still alive. How lucky really was he?

"I'm one big bruise. It's probably best not to pay attention to how I feel."

The unexpected ringing of the bells from above made his ears writhe in pain. It wasn't the loudest pitch he's endured, but he could tell this was the first time he'd actually been awake for a long time and that his ears were not prepared for this high decibel of noise. He gritted his teeth in pain in an attempt to hold out just long enough. As he'd predicted, the noise soon subsided.

"Bells?" he thought. He must have been in a church, not the orphanage, but why did it smell so familiar? He couldn't put his finger on it. The loud shriek of the bells, however, helped wake him. It helped clear his head, but just as much scrambled his radar sense. He tried not to focus on the outside surroundings. The first thing he smelt was a horrible scent. An unconscious drunken man in the alleyway two blocks away. Even his sweat smelt like cheap wine.

Most of the noise is muffled by the snowfall outside. The gulls. Those birds only sounded like that in the late afternoon. It's like the whole city was complaining. That's all the city was. A box of noise and affliction, but it helped him close in on his location.

"I'm still in Manhattan, in the city," he realized.

"Narrow it down, Matt." He tried to fight through the noise. Through the good and bad scents and sounds of the city. Rats and concrete dust...or was it just the room around him? He was very disoriented.

"I must be in a basement..?" He pondered for a moment until the strong stench of the alcohol flooded his nostrils again.

Jessica...

The name came to his head in an instant. In all the drowsiness, he still thought about her. The outline of her body and face that his senses created. The sound of her voice...sometimes it was a little scratchy...but most of the time, it was melodic to his ears. He knew her footsteps better than he knew his own.

"Jessica Jones is truly beautiful..."

He missed her. He wanted her here with him. To give him company as he recovered...he couldn't think of a better sweet. Jessica Jones was a sweetheart, not in the way you'd think or picture. She was emotional in her own way, and Matt could see it better than anyone.

Verbally, she uses sarcasm to be push people away. Physically, she just hits people when she's angry, or drunk. He knew she felt that need a lot. Emotionally, she doesn't let someone get close unless she knows she can trust them. Matt did remember the file on her. He read all about Kilgrave. What he did to her. What she eventually did to him. The deed was so bad and Zebediah was such an evil man, despite the fact that Matt was still healing and running on empty, he felt the anger close in around his heart. He clenched a fist until his knuckles were white.

"Who could do something like that to a person like Jessica and sleep at night?" he thought.

Just the idea of it filled him with a rage he'd only felt every now and then. Normally it was his demons, the rage that built up inside him during the night upon protecting Hell's Kitchen. This was different. This was a rage that coiled from the heart.

"It's simple. My dad abandoned us and got himself killed," the girl spat as she faced both Jessica and Matt. He and Jessica sat in the architect's family's brownstone with his daughter, trying to get any possible information about Midland Circle out of her.

"I know it's probably hard to understand-" Jessica began.

"Actually it's not." Lexi interrupted. Jessica paused for a moment before trying to speak to the young girl again, who was clearly upset about the situation with her father.

With a tired expression, Jessica tried again. "Your Dad didn't want to hurt you or your Mom."

"Yeah, well, she cries herself to sleep every night, so..."

Matt finally decided to speak up, "Lexi, did your dad have an office in the house?"

"No, he kept life and work separate. Some good that did him," Lexi retorted with a seemingly unforgiving choice of words towards her Dad.

Jessica frowned and looked at Matt who also wore a frown of his own. Jessica understood they both knew what it was that Lexi was going through, although she knew Matt suffered in a similar scenario. This was the moment she revealed to him what she'd figured out. That she remembered the incident from long ago, but had never traced it back to Matt Murdock until she saw the trophy engraving back at the apartment. She'd tell him what she thought about him and his background. Maybe even say she was sorry if she ever got around to it.

"You know, Lexi, you remind me of a friend of mine." She began, keeping her eyes on Matt for another moment before turning to Lexi with hopes she'd open up and be little more positive about cooperating with them.

"His dad was a boxer who got in way over his head and got himself killed. And for a long time, my friend thought his dad abandoned him, too." Jessica guessed. She didn't know Matt as much as she wished she did. He could tell by the tone in her voice at the mention of his father. It's like she wanted his attention.

"Until one day, he learned the truth, that his dad was actually killed because he wanted to stop being a criminal, because he wanted his son to be proud of him," she continued, ending a breathy exhale.

"Whatever. I'm just saying that my friend's dad was a good guy, and maybe yours was too." She finished.

With that she looked back at Matt. She swallowed a gulp of air and her own saliva as she saw Matt's head slightly drooped downward at the ground. She could tell his mind was riveting with thought. She could see the emotion on his face, even with his glasses on. Matthew was a lot more easier to read without his mask on. It was then he realized he could trust Jessica Jones. That he could tell her more about himself...that he could tell her how he really felt.

Just then all the moments they had shared together began racing through his head.

"Jessica, how'd you know?"

"Know what?"

"About my Dad."

"I don't read heartbeats, but I do read people."

Matt thought about her voice. How it was always hoarse and how she was always stressed, yet so honest and caring.

"It just didn't seem important."

"What aren't you telling us?"

"I was with Elektra"

"Why, do you know her?"

"N-no..."

Matt felt his heart ache as he lay in the bed. He had to move. He had to find her.

"Look, I've been down this road before, I know what we're up against."

"I know who you are."

"No you don't, trust me."

"Yes I do, you're the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, or Devil Boy, or whatever it is you like to be called."

"I know what happened with Kilgrave, so-"

Matt pushed the top half of his body up with his arms, despite the pain coursing through him. As soon as he got his feet onto the floor he pushed himself up further, but his legs instantly buckled underneath him. Matt quickly reached for the bed behind him for a grappling point to break the fall. Matt couldn't get up. His legs felt numb, so he was still half on the bed and half not, although the socks on his feet were still slowly slipping on the polished hardwood floor.

"Okay," he asked himself.

"Who took the muscles out of my legs?"

One of the nuns must have heard the commotion from outside because the door flew open just a few seconds later. Matt heard the sister let out a sympathetic sigh.

"You idiot," at that, Matt's eyes opened wide.

The nun approached him but he remained calm. She then circled behind him and slid her hands under his armpits. With all her strength, for Matt heard her internal grunting, helped him back onto the bed. As she positioned his legs back on the bed, she spoke again.

"My name is Maggie. You're staying here. You're hurt and you have a fever. Your wounds are not yet healed," she informed.

"You've probably used too much strength as it is...rest," she demanded of him. Matt was feeling tired, and his head began to hurt now that he was able to finally focus. He felt drowsiness begin to clutch at him. She didn't drug him or else he'd be able to tell. As Matt began to drift off while his head ablaze, her name rang in his head.

"Maggie..."

Matt woke up no less than half an hour later, but his injuries hurt much more than they had the last time he was awake. He reached up and felt how warm his forehead was just as another hand grabbed his own and gently directed it back to where he had it resting while he was asleep. He hadn't realized it before, but he had a nasty scrape sewn together on his upper bicep, right under the broad of his shoulder.

Maggie is with him and by his side when the fever hits.

"I'm boiling alive," he thought. "Save for the cold, soft cloth Maggie gently dabs my forehead with."

Matt tried hard to read his surroundings even with the killer headache. He heard the little trinket hang from her neck. A necklace made of gold. It was a cross. She gently lifted his head up and put the necklace around his neck as the cross lay on his chest.

When he first got his heightened senses, he went through a night of utter agony and pain. His senses were wild. Everything hurt. Every sound and smell. A woman came to him with words of hope and encouragement in knowing it would get better. She'd never tell him who she was, but he remembered one thing. He remembered that the woman wore a golden cross. He touched the cross with his own fingers. He never forgot what it felt like.

Matt felt the cross she'd put around his neck only a few moments ago. It was that very, same cross. This cross. He heard the nuns talking in the background as he scrambled through the thoughts jumbling up in his head.

"Still the fever climbs, sister," one of them spoke.

"It will break." Maggie replied with confidence.

"It will."

Matt knew he lost a lot of blood. He knew he was sick, and he was gravely injured...but he didn't fear death. Every night he risked his life playing angel of the city. The demon of the citadel. He was Daredevil...and to think that illness was the way he'd go out was just ridiculous.

"My temperature..." he thought. "It must be around a hundred and three now..."

Everything felt groggy. He was beginning to pay attention to how he felt. He felt awful. He tried to think of something positive, something that would help him calm down...something relaxing. He thought about her-about Jessica. He felt like he was getting weaker, but she made him stronger. Before he drifted off because of the fever attacking his head, he stored Jessica in the vault of his head...or what he was ever able to make of her...

"You're right, this place is completely empty," Jessica commented as she, Matt and Luke walked through the halls of Midland Circle's basement floor.

"A lot of activity under the building now," Matt added as they came to a halt in the hallway. He unstrapped one of his gloves and rested his bare hand against the wall to their left. Matt then knocked on the wall with his fingers. He could hear it echoing through the air on the other side of the wall. He'd just found the ticket to hell.

Matt faced Luke for a second before returning his attention to the wall in front of him.

"I need you to...open this," he requested.

"Open what?" Luke asked.

"It's a door. Something mechanical behind it."

"What do you mean mechanical?" Jessica chimed in, but Matt didn't respond. He'd let her see what he meant once Luke finished busting down the hidden doorway.

The three of them studied the elevator behind the wall and then directed their attention to the hole it would descend into if activated.

"How deep does this go?" Luke asked.

Matt tried to listen as far as his radar would go, but he couldn't give a solid answer.

"Hard to tell," he responded.

"The more I think about it, the less I like our odds," Luke admitted.

"Yeah, well, do like me. Don't think about it," Matt shot back as he refastened his glove back on.

"If you told me a week ago that I'd be here with you two...about to blow up some building and fight ninjas to save New York..."

"Yeah..." Luke chuckled.

She sighed.

"For whatever it's worth," Matt began, "I'm glad you're here."

Matt could tell that the both of them were staring at him with puzzled looks.

"What?" she queried.

"I mean, circumstances could be better, I'm just saying, you know, I'm glad we found each other," he admitted.

"I'm not hugging you," Matt looked down with an awkward smile as well with a look of misunderstanding.

He meant it for the both of them. For all four of them, even Danny, but he meant it the most towards her. Throughout all of his relationships with Claire, Elektra, and Karen, he realized one simple thing. They all wanted him to be something he's not. Within the little amount of time he spent with Jessica Jones, he noticed that they got along because of their abilities and their pasts. She treated him as an equal.

Matt could tell Jessica cared for him in a way she didn't care for most. She was usually rude and dismissive to people she didn't trust. Matt also knew that. He took into account where, at the beginning, she was rude to him...because she didn't trust him. She became much more kind and caring towards him after they both agreed that they trusted each other.

Matt Murdock realized he found someone who understood him. Who accepted him for who he was because she wasn't much different. He also knew he could never reveal to Jessica how she made him feel. There was no worse time to tell Jessica Jones something like that while in the middle of fighting the Hand.

He knew that he had already made up his mind in terms of what he was going to do when they rescued Danny. He was going to save Elektra no matter what, even if it cost him his life. He had to push Jessica out of his mind and make Elektra his priority. There was no use in telling her something like that when no less then an hour later he could potentially be a dead man.

The Devil of Hell's Kitchen found love where he wasn't supposed to.

Right in front of him...

"Everyone has a unique heartbeat with their own patterns and sounds. Everyone's heart quickens and slows at things that another's heart may not even react to. Everyone's heart is different. A single heartbeat can tell you a lot."

"Mine, for example, has slowed considerably in the past few hours...ever since the fever broke. It's a pleasure just to sit and listen to it."

Matt sat in bed wide awake now, perfectly aware of his surroundings and the people in the room with him.

"God has been merciful to that boy," one of the sisters began.

"God is just, sister," Maggie responded.

Maggie's heart is just to his right. It's in great shape. She's got a lot of years of left. The tension dissipated from her through her sweat. Matt could tell, she seemed much more relaxed than she was only a day ago.

"She has the same scent she brought to my hospital room all those years ago," Matthew thought as he studied sister Maggie's random attributes.

"Are you hungry?" She asked.

Matt could feel that his stomach was still slightly upset. He didn't have much of an appetite at the moment. He knew he had not eaten for quite some time. He's been in a coma for the last month and a half, after all.

"Not yet, but I will be, thanks to you," he blessed.

Maggie approached the bed and helped tuck Matt back in under his blanket.

"Give your thanks to the lord," she politely advised.

Her scent is a pleasant one. It's relaxing...yet it seemed so much like his own.

"Maggie..." he said her name and paused a moment before finishing his question.

"Who could love me so much...and stay away for so long?" The question started to boggle his mind.

"Who are you, Maggie?"

Matt hadn't known his Mother for very long. He didn't have much memory of her either. Only bits and pieces of memories that would take a lifetime to unravel...which he obviously didn't have time for. He remembered his father telling him that she was a very religious woman. She was much more of Catholic than Battlin' Jack himself ever was. His father probably thought that making Matt into the devout Catholic he was today was his own way of doing right by her, even after she left them.

"Was it possible?" He thought. Under the current circumstances and all the memories and hints he was told about his Mother. With connection of the golden cross necklace, it all seemed to add up rather profoundly.

"Are you my mother..?" Matt finally concluded.

"Of course not, child," she answered with a smile. Her tone calm, yet stern at his question.

"A heartbeat can tell you a lot..." Matt thought again.

"Hers just jumped..."

"She's lying."

"Why would she lie?" he asked himself. "Why did you lie?" Sister Maggie turned to him, startled.

"W-what do you mean, child?" She denied him.

"I heard your heartbeat. It jumped when I asked you..." he admitted.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about?" She stuttered her remark.

"A person's heartbeat spikes when he or she is lying. It's how I can tell..."

"You-you can hear that?" Sister Maggie asked, sounding rather shocked.

"Results of the accident..." he finalized.

Maggie knew she could not get out of this. Matt Murdock was her son. She hoped he wouldn't ever find out but somehow he did. She didn't see a point in lying anymore.

"Jack never told you, did he?" she began.

"Of course he didn't. He loved you too much. We both did..." She let a long moment of silence fill the room before continuing.

"You were the most beautiful baby boy, Matthew, so perfect," she emphasized. He could sense the hint of a smile forming on her mouth, but it quickly faded as she continued telling the story.

"Not me nor your father had close family, and with him on the road so often...I felt alone and scared right from the start. It only grew worse over time. I was constantly anxious and would go weeks without a minute's sleep..."

Matt didn't really know what to say or how to react to her story? He simply kept listening to the soothing pitch of Maggie's voice, yet he listened intently to what she had to say. This was his Mother, after all.

"Back then, doctors didn't understand postpartum depression. They waved it off as "Baby Blues." In a lot of women, it is very real, Matthew. It's not a funk, it's an illness."

Matt could hear the long-kept pain and sadness in her voice. She'd kept the guilt bottled up all these years. How someone was able to last so long with a burden like that, he had no idea? Maybe he got a little bit of his will to move on from both of his parents? He could feel the sorrow in her tone as she explained herself for leaving all those years ago. She wrapped one of his hands in both of her own and caressed it.

"I wasn't ready to be a wife or a mother. I wasn't confident in myself as a mother. The more your father tried to reassure me, the more frightened I became. I then left you and your Dad to commit my life to Christ...I'm not proud of it, Matthew."

A single tear dropped from Maggie's eye as she gripped Matt's hand tighter.

"I'm sorry, Matthew..."

Matt felt the overall exhaustion of the day creeping in on him more heavily now. It was a long day and Matt could tell it was late in the night because the city outside was much more quiet than it had been throughout the day. He felt himself drifting off in dire need of rest. Mother and son needed rest after these long, painful, agonizing years of being separated and lost.

"I forgive you, Mother..."

Matt stayed at the Church for an entire week after the night Maggie admitted she was his Mother. Throughout the week, they'd talked a lot about Battlin' Jack, and of course, he further explained to Maggie how he could hear her heartbeat. For the first time in nearly thirty years of his life, Matt Murdock was finally got to know his long-lost mother.

She was a sweet, gentle woman. Insecure, no doubt, but a gift from God nonetheless.

In the past week, for as often as he could, Matt isolated himself from the rest of the Church when in his meditation trances. With the mystical ninja training of the Chaste taught to him by Stick, meditating accelerated his body's healing processes. He was still bruised here and there with scrapes residing mostly on his torso area. He wasn't completely healed, but he was strong enough to stay on his feet. To move on. To fight if he really had to. It was just enough.

Matt also took the last week as time to organize a plan to get his life back. He still didn't know exactly how he was going to explain to everyone that he didn't actually die at Midland Circle? Explain how Elektra must have also survived the explosion and dragged him out of the hole and that he woke up from unconsciousness in a church where nuns cared for him in his recovery. For the time being, he was going to leave the part about his Mother out.

He didn't want to put Maggie in danger. The less people that knew about her, the better off she was. It was best if he kept it to himself. Perhaps he'd tell Father Lantom? As Matt thought about the priest, he noticed that it would be wise to seek Father Lantom for advice on how to carryout his plan in getting his life back before revealing himself to anyone else.

Matt stood before the exit of the church in clothes that the nuns supplied him with. Blue jeans, work boots, a dark grey hoodie, a blue winter coat, a baseball cap, a pair of sunglasses and gloves. He asked for the glasses in case he ran into someone he didn't want to reveal himself to. The beard he grew in his time at the church also helped disguise his face a bit better. He just hoped he didn't run into any of his former teammates. Luke, Danny, Jessica...

"Jessica," he thought. Matt didn't know how he was going to reveal himself to Jessica Jones? As much as he thought he knew her, and depending on the amount of alcohol she'd ingested before he did so, she was still unpredictable to him. She might be the one who actually puts him ten feet under.

Luke and Danny were going to be easier to explain to. A lot of explaining they'd want, sure, but he felt a connection with them where he knew he could trust them to keep his secret a secret and not put his "supposed to be dead ass" in the ground. When the time came, he'd decide who to tell first. Right now, he already had an order of people he was going to tell first. Father Lantom, Melvin Potter, then Foggy.

His reasoning for putting Melvin before Foggy was because if he got what he needed from Melvin first, it would make everything a lot easier. He also needed new Daredevil gear. He knew he could trust Melvin to keep his arrival quiet. Foggy could potentially tell Karen, and from there it could get out of hand. He knew Foggy was tired of keeping secrets which is why Matt wanted to get this one out there as soon, but also as safely and rationally as he possibly could.

As Matt zippered up the blue jacket, he heard a set of footsteps coming from behind him. Slow steps...gentle steps.

"Do you really have to leave so soon, Matthew? You aren't fully healed yet," Maggie pleaded.

"I have to, Mother. I need to get my life back, and set a few things straight with a lot of other people. It's been too long since my "death." If I stay in the shadows any longer I may not be forgiven by those that I need the most in my life," he answered.

Maggie's head dropped in slight disapproval. She knew Matthew was as stubborn and brave as his Father was.

"You're just like him, Matthew," she smiled. She approached him and embraced Matt in a hug. "He'd be so proud of you, son."

Matt kept silent and wrapped his arms around his Mother to complete the hug that she offered.

"Remember, Matthew, you'll always have the lord's forgiveness."

After another minute, she pulled away and took her necklace off and held the golden cross out to him.

"Here, take it," she beckoned him.

"Mother I can't-"

"Take it...please," Maggie insisted.

After a moment of both thought and hesitation, Matt slowly grabbed the necklace from her hand and put it around his neck.

"Now I'll always be with you, my son." Maggie leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Matt tucked the necklace into his hoodie and put his hat on.

"Be warm, Matthew, and be safe," she asked.

"I will, Mother. One day I will return. I promise."

He pulled the door open and walked onto the snowy pavement. The cold air slapping him in the face instantly. Before he descended down the rest of the stairs, he turned back to Maggie for one more time.

"Thank you, for everything."

At that, he continued his way down the stone steps until he reached the sidewalk and proceeded his walk back home. Sister Maggie watched him walk until his form disappeared into the darkness of the night and the fog of the snowfall.

"Please be careful, my child. May God guide you in your travels home," she prayed sincerely with a hint of worry in her voice before stepping back into the church and locking the doors behind her for the night. She knew he would hear her wishes.

"I will, Mother. I will," he spoke aloud.

As he walked further down the road, he listened to her heartbeat. And he would focus on it and nothing else until it was finally out of his ear's range.

It was time to go home...

AN: And here it must end, sadly. I know. I'm the goddamn author and I already want more. I've already got it all planned out, and will be uploaded hopefully by Saturday! Chapter 3 is when I plan to start merging both Jessica and Matt's perspectives of the story until eventually, in an order of events, they will collide. You ever write a story and have to resist so hard from rushing through the prologue and rising action just so you can write about the couple you so desperately want to see together? Yeah, I suffer from this. If anybody has a name for it, please tell me. Anyways, till next time and I hope you enjoyed.