Chapter 4: Not everyone deserves a happy ending

Matt wakes up early, but not nearly as early as he imagined he would. He thought sleeping in a bed not that is not his, in a house with eight unique heartbeats besides his own, in a city miles away from his home, would have kept him up into the wee hours of dawn. But that was not the case.

He supposes sleeping in the same room as Foggy might have had something to do with it. He has gotten so used to his friend after years of sharing sleeping space that the sound of his breathing – and even of his snores – is now familiar and soothing, and helped lull Matt into slumber.

But of course, not before Matt overheard the embarrassing conversation happening down the hall, between Karen and the Nelsons.

It's not that Matt isn't glad that none of them have managed to figure it out. The more people who know the truth about Daredevil, the more people are put in danger because of it. But at the same time, Matt hates how Foggy's family has to come up with elaborated explanations for their estrangement. How Foggy and Karen now have to lie to protect him.

Matt knows that the story about addiction that Foggy fed to Anna and a few other select people who were looking a little too closely into Matt's disappearance – for exemple, Detective Brett Mahoney – was a necessary evil. However, it still leaves a sour taste in the back of his mouth.

It's humiliating to imagine what these friends now think of him. 'Poor Matt Murdock. Orphan blind lawyer who had a promising career ahead of him, only to throw it all away in exchange for the bottom of a bottle and to run away from his problems by getting high. What would his late father think of him now? Such a disappointment.'

As Matt finishes his morning shower and gets ready for the day, he tries to find solace in the fact that at least they don't know that besides being an addict – though not to the drug they pegg him for – he's also a suicidal vigilante with super senses who puts on costumes to go out at night and take his anger out on street-level criminals.

When he leaves the room, Foggy's still sleeping soundly, drooling a bit on his pillow, by the smell of it. Quietly, as not to disturb him, Matt steps out of the bedroom and taps his way downstairs.

His phone tells him that it's 7:04 in the morning. Which means he managed to get a full 6 hours of sleep – impressive by his standards.

Five slow, steady heartbeats – four in different rooms on the second floor, and one in the living room downstairs – tell Matt that the all adults are still sleeping. On the first floor, three quick, small hearts, accompanied by whispered conversations inform him that the kids are up and active already.

He feels his way to the kitchen, careful to sidestep the forgotten toys left on the floor. By the clinking of cereal bowls and the sloshing sound of milk being poured in mugs, it appears that the kids are preparing breakfast.

For them and what army? Matt wonders, as he senses a dozen sets of plates around the kitchen table. By the sound of dipping dough and the bittered-sweet taste burned pancake, it seems like a small accident has taken place by the stove.

"No! Colin!" Olivia is reprimanding, hands on her hips in an exact approximation of Candace. "You're supposed to put the chocolate powder after the milk is warm!"

"Really?" Ruth asks, looking sideways from her place by the sink, where she's washing some fruits. She is using one of the kitchen stools to reach it more comfortably. "I thought it was the other way around."

Colin just shrugs, climbing on another stool to place the mug full with cold milk and spoonfuls of chocolate inside the microwave. "I think it doesn't matter either way," he replies, getting ready to prepare another mug.

Oli huffs but leaves him to it, turning back to the stove, where she's about to burn another pancake.

"Uh. Morning guys," Matt calls from the door, waving awkwardly in nobody's particular direction.

"Matt!" Ruthie exclaims, almost falling down her stool when she turns to face him. "You aren't supposed to be here!"

"Why not?" He asks, curious.

"We are preparing a surprise," she explains, seriously. "It's no fun if people know what it is before we reveal it."

"But it's for mom, Ruth. It doesn't matter if Matt knows," Colin reasonably argues. "Also, he can't see it, so if we don't tell him what it is, he won't know."

"Don't be rude, Colin," Olivia admonishes, flushing a little. "Besides, with all the noise you both are making, it's obvious what we are up to."

Ruthie snorts, in a most Theo-like fashion. "And it's obvious by this horrible smell that you've burned the pancake," she shoots back, not at all mistaken.

"Shit!" Oli curses, reaching with the spatula to try and save the pancake, but it's too late. "This damned stove is different from the one back home," the girl tries to justify herself.

"Language!" Ruth and Colin shout back in unisson, giggling at their sister's panic.

Matt is greatly amused this exchange. He feared the children would have changed too much in the time he spent away, but they're still the kind, hyperactive, imaginative kids he watched grow up.

"If I had to guess I'd say you are preparing breakfast," Matt suggests. "But I could be wrong."

"Told you he knew," Olivia tells her sibling, sounding smug – though the effect is quite diminished by the smell of burned food that clings to her hair. She'll have to wash it later.

The smell of burning must have reached the bedrooms by now, because Matt clearly hears Candace cursing upstairs. Two rooms away, Anna is sitting up in the bed, besides her, Edward snores away, oblivious.

Matt wonders how can Theo sleep through all of this, when he's the one closest to this mess.

"I think your mom will be up soon," he informs the kids. "So why don't I help you clean this up so she's not mad at us when she gets here?" He proposes.

"Why would she be mad at you?" Colin asks, always perceptive. "We are the ones preparing the surprise."

"Sure, yeah," Matt replies, "but I'm the one who caught you red-handed and encouraged you."

The bathroom door upstairs opens and closes. Even the kids can hear it.

"Okay," Olivia quickly decides. "Ruth, put all the fruits you washed in the fruit basket at the center of the table," she order, pointing at her sister. "Colin, hurry up with the hot chocolates! I'm going to clean the stove and wash this pan." She pauses, turning to face Matt. "Matt, you distract my mom or my grandma – whoever comes down first. Don't let them into the kitchen until we've given you the sign."

The kids efficiently get to work, and Matt turns to go to the hallway, before stopping, as he realizes something. "Oli," he calls, "what exactly is the sign?"

Even if he can't see her face, Olivia's smirk is clear in her voice. "You'll know."

Ten minutes later, Matt hears the distinctive jingling noise of Olivia's bracelets clinking against each other. He senses the girl purposefully shaking her arms to produce louder sounds.

"I guess that's our cue," Candace comments, from where she leans against the handrail. She yaws, and Matt almost tastes the toothpaste she used. "Sorry 'bout that," the woman grumbles. "I only feel alive after I've had a cup of coffee."

"I completely understand," Matt replies, following her to the kitchen. "Foggy's pretty much the same."

Even before she opens the door, Matt knows the sight that will meet her inside.

The three kids stand side by side next to the kitchen table, from which they've removed the extra sets of plates, and have now filled with bowls of dry cereal accompanied by mugs of steaming hot chocolate. It seems that they gave up on the pancakes altogether, distributing the gingerbread cookies they had decorated the night before instead.

"Surprise!" They shout when Candace steps inside.

"What is this?" She asks, voice a tad higher than it normally goes when she's really surprised. "You made breakfast all by yourselves?"

Proudly, Ruth and Colin nod, pulling their mother to sit in one of the chairs. "We made cereal and fruit and hot chocolate," the youngest explains. "We wanted to make pancakes but they burned."

"We know it's not much," Ruth begins, sounding uncharacteristically shy. "But we wanted to help you with things in the house."

"We know how tired and stressed you've been these last few months," Olivia complements, voice small. "And we know how sad you are about dad," she murmurs, even more quietly. "But we want you to know that we love you and that we'll always be by your side." The words rush out of her, as if she's nervous about speaking such things out loud.

Candace's eyes fill with tears, though she doesn't let them fall. She bites the inside of her cheek and turns her face away, trying to recompose herself.

Matt makes a point to lower his head to give the family some small illusion of privacy.

"Thanks kids," she finally says, voice choked with emotion. "You're the most precious things in the world to me. I love you so much."

Olivia's skin grows hot and she shifts on her feet as if embarrassed by this sudden expression of emotions. Colin plays with the hem of his shirt, looking up at his sisters for guidance. It's Ruthie who takes the lead, confidently stepping forwards to hug her mother.

"Group hug!" She calls, voice muffled against Candace's shoulder.

Gladly, the other two follow, and they stay like that for about a minute, cuddled up together in the middle of the kitchen.

"The chocolate is getting cold," Colin reminds them, pulling away.

"Ah, yes," Candace agrees, surveying the set table, probably wondering if they used up all the cereal in the house. (The answer is yes, if Matt's nose can be trusted, and it usually can.) "Why don't you run upstairs to call everyone down for breakfast? In the meanwhile, I'll prepare some coffee for the adults."

As the kids rush out of the room, Candace gets up and moves to the cupboards, roaming for coffee.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Matt offers, hanging uncomfortably in the back. He's suddenly aware that as much as Foggy's sister is acting normally around him, in reality she's quite wary of him, after everything.

Matt hates that she does have reason to be.

"No, no," Candace waves him off. "Just grab a chair and enjoy your cereal," she says.

From upstairs, Matt hears Foggy let out an undignified squeal that means Ruthie has reached her target. Across the corridor, Colin jumps up in surprise when Anna opens the door he was about to knock on. She gestures for him to come in to wake Ed up, which the boy does gladly. When Olivia discreetly peers inside Karen's room she's met with the sight of the woman changing, and hurriedly stammers out an apology, closing the door.

One by one, the seats at the table are taken. They are all properly impressed at the breakfast the kids arranged, and happily dug in their foods and drinks. If no one quite manages to finish the gigantic portions of cereal, well, no one mentions it either.

As everyone properly wakes up, the conversation picks up again.

"Wait, where is Theo?" Anna suddenly asks, just realizing her youngest son is missing.

Matt can hear the young man shifting in his improvised bed, using his phone.

"He must still be asleep," Ruthie assumes, in the tone Foggy usually uses when he's rolling his eyes. "I'll wake him up," and rises to do just that.

"Throw some water on his head!" Candace calls after her.

"Candy!" Anna reprimands.

"Just kidding, Mom," she retorts, hiding a smile behind her mug of coffee.

"So," Edward begins, drawing their attention, "what are our plans for today?"

Foggy starts to say something, but chokes on the gingerbread cookie he had been in the process of swallowing. Matt, sitting by his side, slaps him on the back a few times.

"Ugh," he finally manages, "I plan to enjoy the warmth while I can. God knows it will be freezing when we go back home," he shivers, as if the mere reminder made him cold. "So I was thinking it'd be nice to do something outside."

Karen nods from across the table. "I heard that the Florida Botanical Gardens are holding the 'Holiday Lights in the Gardens'. Maybe we could go there."

"What's that?" Olivia asks curiously.

"It's an exhibition at the Botanical Gardens," Karen explains, "where they decorate the trees with colorful LED lights, so the whole place lights up when it gets dark. It's supposed to be very pretty."

"That sounds like a wonderful idea," Anna agrees. "You kids can go late this afternoon. I'll stay home to get everything ready for dinner."

"Mom..." Foggy frowns. "We're not having 30 relatives over this year. It's just us. You don't have to stay behind."

"Yes, grandma!" Ruthie exclaims, coming back into the kitchen and pulling Theo with her. "It'll be more fun if you come with us."

"Hooray," he mumbles, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "Morning everyone."

"Listen to your son and granddaughter, An," Edward orders, ignoring his Theo's appearance. "They know what they're saying."

Anna huffs, but Matt can tell she's secretly pleased. "Alright, alright. I'll come with you. But we'll have to go in two cars," she warns.

"No problem," Candace interjects, "we can use your car and the one I rented. There's more than enough space."

"Don't worry, Matt," Colin says from Foggy's other side. "We'll describe the lights for you so you'll know what we are looking at."

"That's really nice of you Colin," Mat reply, smiling. "I'd appreciate it."

"Besides," Karen quickly adds, "there are musical attractions as well, so it's not like you won't be able to enjoy anything, Matt." She sounds apologetical, and Matt wonders if she momentarily forgot that although his heightened senses make up for much and then some, he still has a disability at the end of the day.

"It's fine Karen," he reassures her. "I don't really care what we do. Just being with you guys is more than enough to make me happy."

"Awww," Foggy teases, bumping his shoulder with Matt's. But he can tell by the skip of his heartbeat that his friend is pleasantly surprised at the words. "You're getting soft on us, Murdock."

Matt shrugs in a 'what can you do' gesture, and hopes no one can see him blushing.

"I'll only go to this lights thingy if Matt agrees to play Marco-Polo with me," Ruth estates, crossing her arms and attempting to frown seriously.

Matt chuckles at her antics. "I promise I'll play with you, Ruthie."

"Good!" She decides. "I was really disappointed last year when you didn't come to play," she reveals, not sounding particularly sad, just annoyed.

"Now that you mention it," Olivia begins, sounding thoughtful. "Why didn't you visit us the past Christmas, Matt? We asked Uncle Foggy but he just said you were busy with work, but I know for sure that Christmas is a holiday, so people don't work during it."

"Mom said you were probably celebrating with other people," Colin adds. "But we are your family, aren't we? So how come you didn't come to see us?"

Matt feels all faces turning in his direction. He's dealt with many juries in his career as a defense attorney. None of them ever left him feeling as bereft as now.

"...it's complicated," he says at least, cringing a little at how pathetic that sounds.

"Now that I think about it," Ruth continues, as if he hasn't spoken. "You didn't come to our birthday parties this year, either."

"Nor in the year before," Colin helpfully adds, nodding sagely. "I remember because when I turned six I invited one of my classmates for my party and she was blind too. I told her I had a cool blind uncle that she could meet, but then you didn't show."

Matt swallows drily and wishes he had something to fiddle with, but he had tucked his cane away when he sat to eat.

"I'm really sorry guys," he tries. "I was dealing with some adult stuff that demanded a lot of my attention."

Ruth purses her lips disapprovingly at him and starts to say, in a perfect imitation of her grandmother, "that's no excuse!" At the same time, Olivia murmurs quietly under her breath, saging on her seat, face tilted down.

"You broke his heart, you know."

Matt doesn't need to hear Foggy's silent gasp to know who the girl is talking about. His throat burns with all the thing he wishes he could say.

"I-I," he starts to say, but no words come to mind.

Around the table, Matt can smell nervous sweating, hear accelerating heartbeats and sense people fidgeting nervously. He wishes the floor would open up and swallow him whole, just so that he didn't have to stand the wondering/pitying/judging/angry gazes that he knows are directed towards him.

"Honestly, kids," Anna abruptly stands up, causing her chair to screech against the tiles. "Matt doesn't owe us anything. He doesn't have to justify himself to anyone, least of all to us. Now quit this nonsense before I ground you all."

Matt has never heard her sound so stern, especially not with her grandchildren. Apparently the kids realize their grandma means business, because they all snap their mouths shut, not daring to complain.

The silence in the kitchen is awkward and deafening.

Edward clears his throat loudly, as Anna sits down again. "Do you think there will be a lot of traffic on the FL-60, dear?" He asks, as if nothing had happened.

His wife clicks her tongue, glad to follow his lead. "I think it's best to take the I-275, actually, you know how–"

Matt only realizes he has stood up when Anna stops mid-sentence.

"I-I need some air," he manages to stammer out, before fleeing the kitchen. He doesn't even remember to pretend to need his cane. But he's way past caring at that point.

Somehow, Matt manages to find his way to the front door and out of the house. It's still relatively early in the morning, so the streets are mostly empty. That turns out to be a blessing, because it takes Matt a whole block to realize he's forgotten to tap his cane in front of his, as he scrambles away from the Nelsons.

Turning a corner, Matt comes to a halt, breathing hard. There's no reason for him to feel so exhausted, he barely walked three blocks. Still, he leans hard against a tree, trying to focus on the brittle bark under his fingers, panting as if he has just run a marathon.

He spreads his senses around his surroundings, just to have something to focus on. That turns out to be a particularly bad idea.

As soon as he lets his awareness wander, he picks up on Foggy's voice and can't help but zero in it. It's Foggy. It's familiar and safe and home.

That's really not the time for us to have this discussion, Candace, he's saying, impatience and worry clear in his voice. I got to go find Matt.

Hold on, Foggy! His sister replies, frustrated and equally impatient.

They are no longer in the kitchen. Maybe they are at the porch? Their voices are not as muffled as they would be if they'd been inside.

Don't you think maybe the kids got a point? Candace presses. Don't you think we deserve some sort of explanation or apology?

Yes, Matt thinks. They do, you do, Foggy.

He's my best friend, Candy, Foggy replies as if that answered her question, and he sounds so utterly exhausted that Matt wants to cry.

He's a lousy best friend then, she retorts, acidly.

You can't– You have absolutely no idea–, Foggy is so angry he can't complete a coherent sentence. Matt can't remember the last time that had happened. Probably when they were still in college and Matt had almost flunked one of his courses because of a prejudiced douche of a professor.

I don't have an idea? Cancade interrupts. She's shouting now. I'm sorry, she says, sounding anything but. Are we just supposed to pretend you didn't spend last Christmas moping in a corner because your "best friend" couldn't be bothered to actually act the part? Do you expect us to simply roll over while Murdock gets tangled up in your life again, after having left you high and dry? For Christ's sake, Fog! I'm not saying this to be a bitch. We were all so fucking worried about you last year. I just don't want you to go through that again, alright?

Even if Matt wanted to keep listening in, he wouldn't have been able to. Cold regret drowns his lungs, and he can't focus past the thundering of his own breaking heart.

Suddenly frustrated, Matt punches the bark viciously, barely managing to hold in a snarl. He doesn't know what he was thinking. He knew this was a bad idea. He knew this visit couldn't end in anything other than disaster. He had disappointed these people in the past, and odds were he would do so again. It was naïve and delusional of him to think he could just come back as if nothing had happened. But worse than that, it was selfish and greedy to think he could have anything resembling normal relationships. Again and again God slams the cold, hard facts into his face, and again and again he deludes himself into believing he can ignore them and go beyond God's plan for him. Everyone he has ever loved always leaves in the end. And still– And still Matt runs after them. Foggy and Karen think his addiction is to being Daredevil, but in truth Matt is addicted to something far more dangerous:

He's addicted to mattering to people.

Without meaning to, he builds relationships with others so that he will trick them into caring about him, into wanting to help him. Matt creates irresistible temptations to himself and to others, and when he gives in to them, God punishes him – as he so rightly deserves to be punished – for his weakness and egotistical nature.

Laughing humorlessly, Matt remembers his grandmother's famous words.

Be careful of the Murdock boys, They got the devil in them.

The thing his grandmother hadn't realized, Matt thinks, is that the Murdocks are not dangerous because of their proclivity to violence. Lucifer, after all, is soft spoken and silk tongued. He doesn't beat you into reluctantly renouncing God. He sweet-talks you into wanting to give up your soul to the devil.

His father had once made his mother turn her back on her faith in order to have Matt – a decision that cost her her health and could have cost her life. With a surge of desperation, Matt asks himself: what can the product of such a ill-advised union be but the incarnation of wickedness and evil themselves?

Just like his father, he had compelled the people close to him into putting their lives on the line for his sake, for his ideals, for his crusade.

Battlin' Jack Murdock had pushed one person to the devil's side and that had gotten him killed.

Matt had corrupted countless others. He didn't even deserve to die at this point, as his failed suicide attempted confirmed.

His own father, Foggy, the rest of the Nelsons, Karen, Claire, Ben Urich, Brett Mahoney, Melvin Potter, Father Lantom, Elektra, Ray Nadeem, Sister Maggie. All of them would have been much better off without Matt Murdock in their lives.

Stick had been a sign that Matt had to stop getting entangled with people. He tried to teach Matt how dangerous that was. But by then Matt had already killed his father with his stupid ideals – the devil's claws were too deeply ingrained in his heart. Even Stick had not been immune to Matt's trickery – he had begun to care too, the paper bracelet proved that – but he had recognized it in time to pull himself away.

He had done the same with Elektra. If he hadn't fooled her with talks of being good and being together, she would have left Hell's Kitchen never to return. Whole, alive. Without the burden of caring about Matt.

Foggy was the same. Oh, Matt had been particularly cruel with him. He spent years building their friendship, creating interdependence between them, so that when Matt finally showed his true colors, no matter how horrifying they were, Foggy was already too involved to get out.

He sees the same pattern repeated in all his relationships. It's hideous and disgusting, but at the same time it makes so much sense that Matt knows it's the only possible explanation. That's the piece of the puzzle he's been missing ever since he was a kid.

He'd asked God: Why don't I have a mother? Why did I have to lose my sight? Why did my father have to leave me? Why can I hear other people's prayers?

But it's the Devil who's been replying all along: It's all so that you become more tempting for – and more tempted by – the love of the people closest to you. It's through that love that you will destroy them.