Meeting Daredevil... [Daredevil]

[Nymph]

It had been a damn good day and it was getting late. It was Christmas night and she'd just spent an amazing Christmas with Matt. He had an emergency with a client and they were out of a few things, so she had run to the store a couple of blocks away from his house. It was around ten o’clock at night and Peyton was on her way to her home. That's how she was starting to see Matt's house. Stupid on her part she knew, but she couldn't help herself. She’d walked this route countless times and had gone to that store a hundred times over and nothing had ever happened to her before. Four years and Peyton Montoya’s luck ran out. A water mutant and decent at Tae Kwan Do didn’t mean shit when she was grabbed from behind and dragged into the alley. The shock and surprise of it was enough to have stunned her for a moment too long.

One large hand wrapped around her throat and she was dragged into the alley. Pain shot through her head and body as she got slammed against the wall as hard as the guy could. ”Ow….” The man was choking the hell out of her and she heard something rip. She wasn’t sure what it was until she felt the cool air across her chest. Oh hell no… Peyton tried to fight back but one large hand backhanded her so hard her head whipped to the side and nearly wrenched her neck. He wasn’t human, was the only thing that went through her head at that point.

The man smelled vaguely familiar but she was having trouble seeing as one eye was already starting to swell shut. She felt his hand grip her breast roughly and she winced at the pain. ”Tell me you won’t take my money, you whore. You’ll do what I want and you’ll like it. It’s all you’re good for you filthy piece of shit.” She fought he fought harder, she heard another rip, felt another blow and her world went black. Peyton faded in and out of consciousness only vaguely aware of what was happening to her.

The woman felt something warm and wet hit her face and then something light land on her. ”Thanks, bitch. You were worth it.” There was a solid kick to her side that shot more pain through her entire body and she blacked out again. But before she did she could have sworn she saw a flash of red and heard a battle cry?

A few hours later, Peyton finally came too. She was in a very familiar bed, her's and Matt's. She whimpered softly and moaned in pain. She felt something brush across her forehead. "Matt?" Her voice came out in a hoarse croak and one eye opened to see Matt. Only it wasn't Matt it was... was... "Daredevil?" That's when she remembered the flash of red before she had blacked out the final time. "Don't... don't.. tell Matt...." It was stupid on her part since Matty was bound to find out when he got home.

[Daredevil]

Today seemed as if it were bittersweet to Matt Murdock. He enjoyed spending Christmas with Peyton but there was that inkling of distance he felt himself start to put between them. It was almost like it was a routine. She would be amazing as she’d always been and Matt would wait for something to trounce into his life to ruin just about everything he’d ever worked for in regards to being at least some semblance of normal. So long as he was Daredevil, though, he couldn’t bring himself to attaching fully to anyone, including Peyton. It was dangerous to be who he was and even more so to be associated with him. That said… the day had been amazing and there was nothing Matthew Michael Murdock could do to take back that affection that he had found not only for Christmas, but also for the woman he’d spent it with. The history was enough to warm him up a bit to the Holidays.

But, like many of the dreams that flitted behind his scarred eyelids, Christmas was cut short by the screams of the city that Matt just couldn’t ignore. He excused himself and stalked elsewhere in the garb of Daredevil. He went to defend the innocent from the crime that apparently did not even recognize a day like today as a day for rest. The drug shipment had been stopped but apparently that only became a domino effect into a colossal amount of pleas that would haunt him later. For now, he would stop those cries. He would stop them and keep those voices from feeling that insecure fear that could drive them to begging for help from the very bowels of hell again.

It was while making his way home that a familiar sound that made his boil drew his attention. As quickly as he could, he vaulted one rooftop to the next. The noises, sounds, and even tastes of that alley struck a tone that horrified Matthew Michael Murdock. Peyton… he trailed off in his own thoughts as something that hadn’t really surged through him in a long time took a course through his veins. Rage. Beneath his mask, tears welled up in his eyes that were not only in sorrow for not getting there sooner, but also in fury that anyone would dare to do this to someone that was, in essence, one of the kindest people Matt had come across. He didn’t know if Peyton was awake and he practically prayed that she wasn’t. “Get away from her,” he bellowed in a tone that most would never expect from Matt Murdock or Daredevil.

He knew this alley as if he’d been in it every day of his life; the rage speeding up his heart rate in response to the adrenaline and giving him a picture that was so clear and detailed that one would have almost sworn he could see. He grabbed the man by the back of his neck; clutching it so hard that if he were to jerk to the side, he would kill her. By God he wanted to… but he wouldn’t. No, not yet. He yanked the piece of filth closer so that his hear was right by Daredevil’s ear. “Don’t beg, don’t scream, don’t breathe. You’ll only make this worse,” he hissed before slamming his face against one of the brick sides of the building. He was a defender of Hell’s Kitchen. Things like this happened every night to a point where is outrage was numbed. But now… now this was Peyton. He snarled as he dragged his face along the brick, hearing that satisfying break of the skin and every knick of skin let out that scent of blood that further clenched Daredevil’s jaw and caused him to find that satisfaction that spurred his bloodlust.

Is a solid, fluid moment, he threw him across the alley and into a dumpster. The sound of snapping ribs upon contact with the corner of the structure hinted at a beautiful sense of aim. Daredevil stalked forward, picking up the man by the back of his shirt and slammed him against the dumpster again; letting out a low grunt as he heard the breaking of his ribs. He dropped the man, letting his form slide along the metal while he fell to the ground. Daredevil brought a foot to smash against his face several times. Each kick did nothing to stifle his temper. All it did was drive him further into his rage. His foot stopped as he picked up the man that hurt Peyton. He brought the swollen and bloodied face closer to his to the point where Daredevil could almost taste the blood. “If you touch another woman in my city again, consider yourself dead,” he growled as he threw the man into the dumpster again; deciding not to kill him.

His pulse started to ease as he walked over to Peyton. Tear stains darkened the mask beneath his eyes. He knelt down and scooped her up and held her for a moment; not sure what to do. Gently though, he kissed her forehead as he carried her to the rooftops and navigated their way to his home. He came in through the back like he always did. The house seemed different now. He’d come in so many times in the costume but with Peyton in his arms, this felt differently. Quickly he made his way to his room and gently set her in the bed. He couldn’t bring himself to clean her up. Going to the authorities would be her decision and if that was what she chose to do… Daredevil would be implicated in attempted murder for what he’d done to the man.

Their pulses kept his radar sense alight; giving him full detail of the room and full detail of her. It broke his heart and angered him all over again. That stifled when she stirred. His face snapped as if he were looking at her. He found himself unsure what to do. Should he speak? Should he expose who he was? He took in a deep breath and let out a low sigh. “He knows…” he said in a voice that tried to mask who he was for a moment. “I’m sorry,” that tone broke, however, at those words. Beneath the mask, his eyes widened. Matt Murdock had apologized, not Daredevil.

[Nymph]

The girl was fading in and out of consciousness while laying in the filth of the alley. Her clothes were shredded and practically non existent. She knew this would happen to her one day and she thought she'd be prepared for it. But she wasn't and she's not sure anyone could ever prepare for something like this. She didn't think anything was broken, but she hurt like hell. The one part of her she thought wouldn't be hurting, hurt worse than ever. The guy had been brutal.

From what she could tell, her throat hurt, but then he had a tight hold on her. Her back and shoulders hurt from when she was slammed against the wall. Her legs had already started to stiffen, and she wondered if she was bleeding in a place she shouldn't be. Oh and her face felt like it was used as a punching bag. That is where she was trying to figure out if she was unconscious or if her eyes were just swollen shut. The worst of it was she had that mans seed all over her, but then she guessed it was better than inside of her. Really she needed to stop thinking as it made her head hurt.

It was official, her eyes were still functioning, but it was kind of weird. The girl slipped in an out of consciousness, so watching Daredevil work was like in those movies, where they do the quick black outs. It would flicker. He'd be on one side of the alley, fade out, wake up, he'd have the guy against the wall, fade out, wake up, he'd be doing something else. It was all kind of cool or she would have thought so had it been in a movie. It was still kind of cool, she just wasn't able to appreciate it at the moment. She hoped she remembered later, she'd have to tell Matty. Oh God! Matty. She couldn't tell Matty. It didn't register that as soon as he got home, Matt was gonna know.

Again she faded out, but she felt herself get picked up and it felt so familiar, but it couldn't have been. A sigh and whimper escaped her lips as Daredevil carried her home. She was out once more as he put her in the bed. Matt's bed. Their bed? She'd like to think of it as such, but she couldn't tell Matty that. "He already..... Oh no.... I didn't want him to know....." She'd have told him that it had been a fetish job if it had come down to it. He didn't need to worry about her it was her job to worry about him. When he said he was sorry everything clicked. Why he felt familiar, smelled familiar, swollen eyes tried to go wide. "Matty....." Her voice would have been soft even without the aid of sore throat.

Her Matty was Daredevil? How, well she knew there was something special about him, when he could dance his way around an obstacle. But she never knew why nor did she question it. It was just Matt and that's how he was. "Oh God.... I didn't want you know.... I'm sorry.... " She knew he was going to beat himself up over this. It's one of the reasons she never called him when something went wrong. He'd feel responsible like he should have been there and that would break her heart.

Peyton struggled to sit up, this new revelation did wonders for her bought of 'should I or shouldn't I fall unconscious' she was wide awake. "Before we get into this.... Help me to get cleaned up. You don't need to smell me like this." The smell of the guy and his semen had to be overpowering for him with them being this close. She struggled to get out of the bed, she had a lot of questions but oddly enough she wasn't all OMG about this new revelation. That wasn't really her concern. What she wanted to know was how and most importantly, why he never told her.

[Daredevil]

He would have known if she had lied about the type of job she’d done. He wished his senses weren’t that way so he could be in ignorance of just what went on in Chelsea. But, he could never give these abilities away. Not when he knew that there was a way he could help people, even if he was too late to do everything in his power to stop the wicked from doing things that were downright atrocious. There was no way that Matt could ever let himself live with this. He was too late. Maybe if he hadn’t left to patrol, Peyton would be like this. It all stung. For some reason he couldn’t help but know that, deep down, if he had really accepted the normalcy Peyton had brought him, that this all wouldn’t have happened. Beneath the mask there was nothing but pain in his expression. Unfortunately, that covering also didn’t show just how sorry she was.

Matty…

God! Even the way she said his name right now may as well have been killing him. He almost winced at her as she said his name. Almost. But there was someone that knew what he was and he hoped to god she didn’t judge him for it. His eyes closed behind the red lenses of the mask. There was a nod that bobbed his head for a moment, as if to confirm that statement. He wished he could have kept this from her or at least kept himself from having her find out this way. He gave a soft sigh. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about Peyton, you got that?” His hand reached out to brush the hair from her forehead; matted down from what that bastard had done. He could still smell him on her and it made him almost sick to his stomach to know what a monster truly smelled like. He said nothing on that though. His gloved hand slid to cup her cheek. “This is something you can’t be sorry for.”

His head tilted as if his gaze would have dropped down. Her voice, though soft, still let the sound roll through his senses like a soft, pained smoke that let the room stay in ‘view’. The smell, their pulse, their voices, even the city’s subtle rustle still reminded him that he was still there with her and the blood starting to dry on the knuckles of his gloves was a painful token of what had just happened. He bit his bottom lip, not sure if there was anything he really could say. Regardless, he got up and made his way over to her as if nothing had happened and scooped her up; ignoring the scent that made him want to go out and finish the job he’d started. His breathing was still ragged. Still calming down. Despite how many times Matt had helped women in Hell’s Kitchen when things like this happened, this time it was different. It was personal and he knew that there was no way he could brush off the hurt that stabbed into him that he hadn’t been there to protect her.

He carried her to the bathroom before sitting her on the edge of the sink. His head turned as if Daredevil were glancing at the door. It was a quiet offer, an offer that said he could leave if she wanted him to. His mouth had no expression, just a stoic straight line that didn’t denote a smile or a frown. There was only concern etched into the flesh that shown from the mask. He backed away a bit, towards the door; navigating from the slight echo of the floor tiles. At the frame of the door he stood for a moment, his gloved hand touching the wall before slipping out to get fresh towels and clothes for her.

[Nymph]

The woman would have been chewing her bottom lip if it hadn't been swollen and split. He was so quiet and with that mast she couldn't really tell what he was thinking. God, was he going to tell her to leave? Had she caused him too much trouble? Did he blame himself enough that the would send her away 'for her own protection? She didn't know if she could handle losing him this time. Not after everything they've been through these past couple of months. She'd known she had feelings for him, but she truly realized lately how much she loved him. Peyton just never had the courage to tell him. She didn't want to hold him down if he felt it was time to move. But now, now she didn't know if he wanted her to stay.

Peyton closed her eyes when he smoothed her hair and she nuzzled his hand with her cheek. "I knew it would happen someday, really I did. I was pushing my luck. Funny, it happened when I was deciding to give it up though, you know? I had actually been thinking about doing something different. I expected it, but I expected years ago. Just... Think of it as a job gone wrong and everything will be OK. I didn't want you to know if it ever happened. I know you, Matty, you'd blame yourself. So, if I can't be sorry, you can't blame yourself." Brown eyes opened and looked at him She felt terrible for putting him through this. Had she not been what she had been, this might not have happened. Well, not true entirely, her form alone would have made it happen. But it was less likely to have. So yes, she was sorry that her past had come back to bite her in the ass. She just hoped this didn't ruin what they had.

When he scooped her up and she laid her head on his shoulder. Peyton was not a woman who regretted what she did with her life. Not entirely, she refused to hang her head in shame for her chosen profession. However, she never truly pictured herself doing it forever either. But with something like this happening, she was afraid he'd see what kind of woman is, and forget the girl that she was. When he made the silent offer she studied him. She was so worried since he wasn't speaking that her throat closed up. As soon as he had slipped off she called quietly. "Come back. Stay with me? Please?" She couldn't lose him, not now, not over this.

Carefully she stripped out of her clothes and winced. It wasn't the first time she thanked, whoever, that he was blind. He really didn't need to see the bruises on her body. She slid off the counter and looked in the mirror. The large, hand print was vivid against her skin. Lovely, she was going to sound croaky and have a sore throat from hell tomorrow. She made her way to the tub and turned on the water. Shower first, then bath. Anything to get the stench off of her. Her gaze flicked to the door as she looked to see if Matt had come back, or if he decided he couldn't deal.

[Daredevil]

Matt didn’t necessarily know what to do right now. After all of the rapes he’d stopped and prevented, he’d never been that concerned partner or family. He was on the other side of the spectrum and Matthew Michael Murdock did not like this. This… heartache. He felt himself wanting to disconnect even if just for this moment. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t bring himself cradle indifference to him as if it were the very essence of what kept him from going on another rampage. He exhaled another breath coming to grips with another thing. She knew his secret. He’d worked so hard to keep it under wraps but this time, when confronted with someone he’d always been close with that had just discovered why he was always so scarred up and why his ribs were sometimes tender to the touch, he didn’t know what he could do anymore. He kept it secret to protect everyone. He held back from a lot of things for everyone’s protection. She might leave. She might have seen what he’d done to that bastard and it might scare her, spurring her to turn away. He hoped this wasn’t the case, but he’d surely understand. Disbarment meant nothing to him if people found out… it was having Peyton see him differently that would hit him hard.

“Just because it’s likely, doesn’t make it right,” he said in a gravelly whisper; not wanting to argue this. Not now. Not ever, really. He’d witnessed and rescued too many women hurt from predators that did these sorts of things to really think that it could ever be, on any level, excused. No, Matthew Murdock was a Catholic and that meant that doing those sorts of crimes were wrong. He could figuratively look past a lot of things (he was after all, going around at night dressed as the devil) but he could never look past that. Despite how much Peyton didn’t want him to beat himself up over it, he couldn’t promise it. Matt already had started his own mental penance for this, praying to all that was holy that everything would be alright.

Hearing her plea for him to stay could have been what hurt the most. Did she think he would simply leave? He didn’t argue it like he normally would have as he found a fresh change of clothes, a few towels and the first aid kit that he frequently used. His hand ran along the smooth, yet aged, surface of the kit for a moment before he heard the water start to run. He was terrified of not being able to see the damage. He wanted to know just what all he’d done to her. He’d know if he touched her though, by the way she’d breathe or how her skin would feel. He returned to the bathroom as he his rage calmed down. He set the clothes, towels, and first aid kit onto the closed toilet as he perched onto the counter by the sink, still not pulling the mask off and absolutely unable to face any of this if he took off the one thing that kept those tears from falling further down his face. All he could do was mutter another “I’m so sorry,” he said in a hushed whisper.

[Nymph]

The young woman hung her head and her heart ached for him. She knew he was going to blame himself, no matter how much she'd tell him not to. He couldn't have known when, where, or if something like this was ever going to happen. Hell, she just knew it would one day, oddly enough it happened when she was planning on giving up her work. The irony didn't escape her and she let out a small laugh at it too. Then she hissed and gasped a bit as her ribs hurt. She couldn't remember everything done to her, but she might have been kicked in the ribs. It was all a painful blur and she tried not to think about it. Her head turned and she peered in the mirror. God she was glad he couldn't see this. Her face alone would have been enough to put him back into a rage. Gingerly she touched her left eye that was swollen shut. Her mind turned to the fact that Matty was Daredevil. A small smile touched her swollen lips and she winced. Lord but he was full of surprises. She understood why he didn't tell her, he'd have enemies, so she didn't hate him for that. Her mind replayed him going after the bastard that hurt her, and eyes misted up a bit. The sound of fury was blood chilling to say the least. She just wished she'd known about it. At least it was explained why he would be hurt so much, that was a bit of relief. She was worried that he was getting attacked. Knowing he was Daredevil as actually quite a liberating and freeing experience.

The dark head turned and looked at him. ”I know that, baby. I'm going to touch now.” She was so afraid he'd pull away from her. Gingerly, she kissed the corner of his mouth with her swollen lips. Peyton knew he'd want to see the damage done to her, and it hurt her that it was going to upset him that he couldn't. She knew him, knew him better than anybody. ”Baby, please don't do this to yourself. You were there, you got me out of there. Please, don't do this.” The tears were in her voice as she tried to fight them. She hated seeing him all torn up like this. Her hand cupped his cheek and her thumb caressed his cheek bone through the mask. ”You're here for me, when I truly need you. You have no idea how much that means to me.” I love you. Those words stuck in her throat. She wanted to tell him so bad that it was tearing her up, but she didn't think now was the right time. So, she did what she could and kissed him, telling him that way and letting him puzzle it out. At least for now.

Peyton carefully scrubbed her hair and body clean, as easy as she went she still winced and sucked in a breath here and there. At his whispered apology she closed her eyes. Well one of them. ”I'm sorry you have to go through this.” A few tears mingled with the water as they slid down her cheek. She let out a slow breath. He was going to want to know the damage and she couldn't tell him. ”Come wash my back?” It was a request and an invitation for him to inspect her. Nothing was broken, but there was some serious bruising at her ribs, shoulders, neck, face and a deep purple hand print on each thigh. ”I love you, Matty.” She had no clue that she had whispered those words softly and out loud. She could feel his pain as much as she felt her own and she wished she could take it away from him. Carefully she washed hair and body again, trying to get the stench of of her. What she needed now was Matty to hold her, but she didn't know if he would do it. With a deep breath she looked over at him. ”Can you just hold me?” The fact that she needed him was in her voice.