#mattm

“Are you okay?” Matt’s voice came through loud and clear, bursting through your thoughts. Although he was able to interrupt the constant feed of ‘I can’t do this I can’t do this I can’t do this I can’t be here I can’t be here I can’t be here’, it wasn’t enough to fully snap you out of the state. He could hear your heart beat going faster than usual, he could feel the vibrations of your trembling fingers, the small sounds that you tried to hide under your breath so they wouldn’t get noticed by the world at large.

Once he came in closer, his warmth touching you, you were able to breathe. You took hold of his hands quickly, trying to calm yours, trying to stop from shaking so much. You just had to ride this through, it would come to an end soon. You were out of the situation. You were no longer alone. Matty would take care of you. Matty always took care of you. Turns out, you needed it more than the blind man did.

“Just breathe,” He said, and demonstrated for you, breathing in through his nose until his chest expanded, and then out through his mouth, letting it out. He kept on doing this with you until you no longer felt like you were hyperventilating. He stood between you and the people, making sure that no one could see you - but then again, this was New York, people were hardly fazed by anything in this city anymore. “Just breathe with me.”

You tucked your head into his chest, taking in the smell of his cologne. It helped to ease the rest of the anxiety away - but you were still left with the after effects. The feeling of being completely drained. The bits of jitters still in your fingers. The dried streaks of tears upon your face. “I want to go home,” You whispered. “I’m a mess.”

“You’re fine,” He told you. “It happens. Let’s get you home.”

You detached yourself from him, all but one hand which stayed firmly in his. You let him lead the way, his cane going back and forth. You still couldn’t think straight. Your mind was up in the clouds. Heavy clouds. But he brought you home. The place you shared. You laid right down on the couch, bringing the blanket up over your body, refusing to let even the slightest bit of light over you. “Are you cocooning?” He asked, knowing you well enough by now.

“Yes,” You squeaked.

“Can you at least do that in bed so I can join you?”

“Okay.”

You reluctantly got up but kept the blanket surrounding you, waddling your way to the bed and then flopping yourself down. Matt joined a moment later, sharing the tight space under the comforter, holding you, his leg bent over yours, and smoothing his calloused hands through your hair. You didn’t need any more affirmations. All you needed was him and that’s exactly what he gave you.

You came into work a good ten minutes before Matt did. Foggy was already there, and you greeted him with a cheerful good morning and announced that you had brought muffins. What he didn’t know was that you had made use of Matt’s hardly-touched kitchen to make them the night before, and that you had come from that very place this morning.

Matt came in right on time, his cane hitting the corners of the doorway as he stepped inside. You looked over at him with a smile that he could not see, but could probably sense. You knew his secret, you knew that he didn’t need that cane in order to know the layout of the place. He had never seen it but could still walk into it better than you could if you were blindfolded. So many secrets in this office between you and Matt - including your dating life.

“Hey, y/n brought muffins!” Foggy said happily, biting into one. You looked down at your computer and grinned again, because Matty was so very aware of that fact. He had licked the batter off of your face at one in the morning.

“I could smell them as I walked in,” Matt said. I got up and put one into his hand before he could walk into the office. “Thanks,” He nodded. And then almost as if it was by instinct, not an afterthought, he added, “Love you.”

You froze. So did Matt. For someone so smooth in fights, he was a bumbling mess when it came to his relationships. He had wared you about that. You hadn’t believed him until that.

“What was that?” Foggy asked, staring at you two. He’d been just out of earshot but he saw the reactions.

“Nothing,” Matt said, which made you furrow your brow. “I mean - not nothing, exactly, just - we’ll talk later?”

“Definitely,” You nodded. “We’ll definitely be talking later.”

Matt had a firm hold of your hand as you left the apartment for the second time in a month. The world was going crazy out there, with people killing themselves whenever they saw an entity that they never had time to describe. It was almost lucky that you were with Matt when things started to happen, for he was safe - he could not see what was causing all of it. The only thing that he was in danger of were the worshippers coming after him - and of losing you, for you could see.

You had on his Daredevil mask, but with padded eye sockets. It was stuck firmly on your head so it would not slip off, and it offered you some degree of protection from the maniacs that were trying to get people to look at the damn things.

“Two more blocks, I’ve got you.” Matt said, squeezing your hand. With all of his experience, he was able to manouver around things that were in the way - he could sense them. And he knew the layout of the area well enough to be able to guide you to the grocery store that you had already almost raided bare.

Matt suddenly stopped, grabbed hold of you, and held you in a doorway. You whimpered in fear, and he hushed you. “It’s close, don’t listen to it.” He whispered.

Voices of your friends who have succumbed echoed through the air, calling to both you and Matt. You could feel yourself tearing up when you heard Foggy’s voice, and Matt did the same. But eventually, it moved on, sensing a blindness here. When Matt loosened his grip, you breathed out. “Can we really live like this, Matt?” You asked, your eyes closed despite all the protection.

Matt didn’t mind the wedding part of weddings, it was the reception after that he wasn’t fond of. At least three times he would have to pretend to trip over someone’s chair in order to appear like a normal blind person, and then there would be all the questions. He would become a matter of discussion, which he was used to but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t tiring.

Rather than going through the tables and asking which one he was meant to be seated at, he stood a bit apart from the dance floor, near the DJ booth. He could feel the vibrations of the music coming through the speakers, it even shook the floor a little but he remained steady, facing nothing in particular.

You noticed him right away, and made your way over with a drink in your hand before the group of gossiping bridesmaids would get in close. “Hi there, I don’t think we’ve met, I’m y/n.” You introduced yourself, putting your hand gently over his, which was holding onto his cane.

“Matthew Murdock.” He said with a subtle nod.

“Do you - do you want to dance with me? I’m not too shabby at leading, if you give me the chance.” You offered, backing up a bit, stretching your arm so it was still on his hand.

“Pardon?” He asked, tilting his head.

Matt could always tell when you were approaching him, but he never gave it away. That would make the game a lot less fun. As Foggy caught your eye, you pressed a finger to his lips to silence him, and he merely rolled his eyes and took half a step back so he wouldn’t get caught up in your action. Matt kept up his half of the conversation, acting like he didn’t know anything was coming. The sound of your footsteps increased, both in time and volume. A rush of wind blew his hair out of his face.

“Got you, Mattie.” You said, wrapping your arms around him. He held in the wince as the hug irritated some of the bruises that he was hiding beneath his suit.

“You got me.” Matt said, adjusting his footing, holding himself up with his walking-stick until you let go. “That’s the third time this week.”

“And not to be the last.” You leaned in, kissed his cheek and placed a bag on his arm, sliding the loops up his leg. “I made you some mini chicken pot pies, microwavable.”

“If it wasn’t for you, we’d be living on stolen bagels.” Foggy grinned.