Hell to Pay (Daredevil x fem!reader)

Chapter 12 - Uh Oh...

"What are you doing?" Matt questions as you pull out a knife. "I'm being less suspicious," you reply, cutting off the skirt of your dress. You wore a pair of shorts underneath, in case something like this happened.

"I'm just pissed I had to ruin this dress in the process," you grumble, looking down at your makeshift shirt from the bodice of the gown.

"What about me?" Matt asks, and you shrug. "It's not my fault you're unprepared. You can stay in the car, I'll be back in a minute."

You park the car in a dimly lit area, before heading into the motel. "Do you have any twin rooms?"

She hands you the key as you take the cash out of your wallet and hand it to her. "Thanks."

You walk out to the car to get Matt, and help him into the room. "Okay, take off your shirt."

"Pretty forward, don't you think?" Matt jokes as he casts his jacket aside. "Just do it Murdock," you respond rather bluntly, taking your medical kit out of your handbag.

"Jesus," you say under your breath. His shirt is so soaked in blood, you'd think it was meant to be red instead of white.

"How bad?" he asks as he undoes the last button. "I've seen worse," you sit down beside him, looking at the wound on his side as he pulls off his shirt. 

"You do this a lot?" Matt winces as you pour whiskey over the gash, tensing his abs as he does. You pretend to ignore it, and answer his question, "No, my suit protects me from this kind of thing."

"But you have done this before?" he inquires, as you roll your eyes. "Yes, I've done stitches before. Recently too, so don't worry."

"Clearly this happens to you quite often," you comment, observing the abundance of scars on his torso, "You should probably get a suit of your own."

 "It would slow me down. I had a friend, she used to help with this kind of thing."

"What happened?" you inquire, continuing to stitch him up. "Let's just call it a conflict of interests."

"Oh, let me guess. She thought what you were doing was self-destructive," you predict, taking a bandage out of your bag.

"Uh- Yeah, that's spot on. How did you-"

"I had a bit of a similar situation with a friend of mine. It might shock you that I was actually the voice of reason."

"It doesn't," Matt remarks, as you finish patching him up. "I can tell that you're someone who wants the best for the people around you."

"Oh really?" you raise your brow, getting up off the bed. You take off your widow bracelets, and put the rest of your weapons down on the small counter.

"Except for yourself."

You pause, before responding, "You're not wrong."

"You want to know something funny? With everyone I've ever met, there's always at least one thing that gives them away when they lie," he elaborates, as you kick off your heels and sit on the other bed.

"And what's mine?" you query, as he sits up against the headboard of his bed.

"That's the thing, you don't have one. I can never tell when you're lying."

You're stumped for a second, but remember something, "It makes sense. I used to have to be able to pass lie detectors all the time as a widow, I guess it's second nature now."

"Can I ask you a question then?" You glance at him, "Sure."

"Were you lying when you said you were sorry for kissing me?"