Matt Murdock Shorts

My Stregnth is my Weakness

A/n: I know it's been a while since I've updated, but I've had a bad case of writer's block, then I marathoned Black Sails, so that's my excuse
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Matt thinks he's in love. As he walks down the streets of his city with his woman, he can't imagine being happier. Well, he can, but that would be in an alternate universe where his life wasn't so tragic and he's probably a different person altogether. At this moment, in this universe, Matt Murdock is happy. According to all evidence regarding Mr. Murdock, it stands to reason that this is to end soon. As in most cases, the evidence points directly to the truth. All it takes, is a car driving by enjoying their music a little too loud and Matt's world falls apart.

Everything is too loud, and he can't pick anything out. It's like a collective buzzing flowing through the city and he can't get away from it. In times like these, he's blind in every sense of the word. No world on fire, no 360 degree radar. He's lost in a sea of cotton- alone and helpless.

Then he feels hands on his wrists, soft and warm, telling him he's not alone after all. He still feels helpless, he still feels lost, but he's not alone. He lets the hands guide him, sit him down, then they go to pull away. He panics, and grasps at the hands before they're gone. He must seem so pathetic; he doesn't even know if the sounds coming out of him are words at this point, but he can't bring himself to care. He's too scared of losing his anchor- of losing you- to allow something as petty as pride to get in the way now. The calming hum of your voice cuts through the noise in response, but he still can't distinguish any words.

-0-

You don't know what to do. Your boyfriend who- despite being blind- exudes power and confidence, just crumpled into a heap in the middle of the sidewalk. And you have no idea why. You helped him to the nearest set of steps you could find, but you don't know where to go from here.

You try to assure Matt that everything's okay, that you're here, but he doesn't seem to be getting it. He's reduced to a heaving mess next to you, and you're afraid he's going to go into a full blown panic attack if you don't get the situation under control.

You're not sure what the situation even is. All you know is that Matt's not responding to you, and the first thing he did was cover his ears. You focus on translating your words into touch, since he seems to respond better to that.

You pull him into a hug, and he clings to you, sinking down to rest his head on your chest. You sit like that, running your hands through his hair and along his back until he calms down enough to explain what's going on.

-0-

It takes Matt a while of intense focus to push enough of the city's bustle away. The first noise he's able to identify is the beat of your heart. It's strong and clear in his ears, betraying your fear for him despite your otherwise calm facade. The next is the rustle of his hair between your fingers, the scrape of the fabric of his shirt against your hand.

"Hey Matt, you back?"

He pushes himself to sit up. "Yeah."

"Are you okay? What happened?"

He shakes his head. "I'm fine. It was just a headache."

"Mhm. Okay then, you ready to go home?"

"Yeah." He flashes the least convincing smile you've ever seen, takes your hand, and starts walking back to the apartment."

-0-

When you get home Matt collapses on the sofa and you take a seat next to him. "You want some aspirin for that headache?"

"I'm fine, thanks."