Nelson and Murdock
Four Months Ago

"I'm Daredevil," Matt said, holding his mask out to Karen.  He was regretful that this moment hadn't occurred sooner, and that it was happening now, when their lives were all in disarray.  Foggy took a new job at another firm, and Karen had moved on to the New York Bulletin, frustrated with Matt after their failed romance.

Karen stared at the mask, mouth agape.  She was silent for quite some time, unsure of what to say. Matt considered listening to her heart, or her breathing, for anything that could hint at her reaction, but it all felt too wrong.  She needed this moment to herself.

"You're shitting me," said Karen in denial.  She sounded disappointed.  She didn't believe him, and she thought it was another one of his lousy excuses.  He probably just picked up a cheap, plastic Daredevil mask from a Halloween store.

"I'm not," replied Matt, his voice somber. "You wanted to know what was going on with me, so here it is."

"Look, Matt, we both know you have an issue with...something," she said, walking toward the door at a fast pace, her voice becoming angry.  "But you, being Daredevil?  Come on, you really think a blind man--"

Matt's hand suddenly grasped Karen's arm, and she stopped, inhaling quickly.  Her eyes darted upward, and she was breathing heavy.  "How did you know I was--"

Matt  released her arm and lowered his head a little, blinking.  His breathing was uneven.  Sharing your secret identity with someone close to you, someone that you've been lying to about it ever since the day you met...that is hard.  It is uncomfortable.  It is shameful.  And, you never know how they're going to react.  Definitely angrily, but as far as the rest, there's no way to predict or prepare for it.

Yeah, Karen.  Turns out I am a blind lawyer who beats the shit out of people every night, using my enhanced senses and fighting skills while running around in a devil suit.  Oh, and I've been lying about it as I show up to work every day with new cuts and bruises.  But yeah, totally normal.

"There are some things about me that I haven't told you," Matt said.  His voice was a little shaky.  He was trying to make this reveal a little less awful than when Foggy found out.  He was trying to stay calm.  He even felt a little weak.  "I-I, uh, I know I should have told you a long time ago.  I'm sorry about that, but--"  He stopped and sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

Karen shook her head.  "No."  She swallowed hard, trying to disregard the fact that Matt, the clumsy blind guy, had grabbed her arm with such precision.  "No."  She denied, biting her lip.  "You're blind, Matt.  It's not possible."

Matt set down the mask on the desk, removed his glasses, folded them, and put them in his pocket.  Then he tried so desperately to make eye contact, something that he had always struggled with.  He just couldn't figure out a way to synchronize his eye movements with the "impressionistic painting" that he could truly see.

"Medically, yes, I am blind," Matt said.  "But, after all you've seen...these past few days, weeks, years...You're telling me that you don't want to believe that a blind man can find other ways to see?"

Karen walked back to the desk and reached for the mask.  Her fingers hovered over it; she was hesitating.  Finally they came into contact with it, gliding across the strong material slowly from one devil horn to the other, and it wasn't made of cheap plastic. 

Her eyes flicked up to Matt's bruised face, and suddenly she understood. The cuts, the bruises, the sick days. The shitty excuses, the tension between Matt and Foggy. And, the tender moment she'd shared with Daredevil when he'd saved her from the Hand.

The only thing she couldn't wrap her head around was how he did it, and why he had waited until now to tell her.

"I--I don't understand..." Karen began. She stopped herself, putting her hand over her mouth as she worked to rephrase her question. The only word she managed to say was "How?"

"Remember the car accident I told you about, when I was nine?"

"Yeah, and you told me that it blinded you," recalled Karen. "But..."  She stopped talking, not sure of what to say.  Instead, she took a few steps forward, closer to Matt.

Karen stared back into his eyes, but they were blank and lifeless.  She searched them for emotion, for answers, any hints to the words that he was about to say.

"Like I said, I have other methods of 'seeing'," said Matt. He then began to explain his abilities in a simple but thorough manner, while Karen listened intently.

Karen's mind didn't skip over even one word he'd said.  They were extraordinary, every single one.  The sound of his voice as he spoke contained trembles of shame, as he wished he'd told her much sooner, in much better circumstances.  Her heart ached.

"All this time...Union Allied, Frank Castle, the Japanese--or whatever they were--you were there.  The man standing in front of me...it was you.  It was always you."  She was calmer now, but she was still in disbelief.  She didn't know what to think.  Should she be angry?  Should she be thankful?  Somewhere in between?  "And you saved my life, again and again.  But how could you stand in front of me, all this time, and not tell me?"

"This part of me, it's dark and violent and--" Matt blinked.  "And I don't like people to know about it.  But you deserve to know.  I've just been a complete asshole to not tell you."

Karen pursed her lips, still trying to decide how to react.

"I never wanted to lose you," he said.  "And after they took you--"  He swallowed his breaths, on the verge of tears. 

Karen wrapped her hands around Matt, and he leaned his head on her shoulder.  They stayed like this for a few moments.

"You're angry," Matt said.

"Not at you," Karen said. "I mean, I want to be. I'm not entirely sure why, but I'm not angry with you. I'm angry with myself."

Matt was perplexed.  He stepped back from the embrace.  "How are you not mad at me?"  He was beginning to want her to be angry at him, because that's the only response he was used to receiving.  It seemed unnatural.  Wasn't she unhappy that he wasn't honest with her from the beginning?

"I knew something serious was going on with you for the past couple of months, and it wasn't the first time you've seemed...conflicted, hurt--mentally and physically.  I just wish I'd tried to do more to help out."  Her fingers made their way to Matt's bruised cheek, and his skin tingled under her touch.  She did it so lightly and softly that it didn't cause him any pain.

She was still hurt.  But, what she was now discovering, was that being hurt was a part of life.  It was a part of loving someone.  Frank had been right.

"Foggy's reaction was a lot more heated," Matt said.

"He's known you longer. And he doesn't understand that certain secrets shouldn't be up for grabs by the general public."

"Foggy isn't the general public."

"I didn't say you shouldn't have told him.  I just know that burdens like this aren't easy to talk about.  And you never know the right time to bring it up."

"You're talking about this as if it's from experience."

Karen blinked, her fingers now still.  She pulled her hand back, letting her arms dangle by her sides awkwardly.  Matt could feel her discomfort radiating off of her skin like a hot steam.

"You don't have to talk about it," Matt said.  "I have no right to ask anything of you.  Especially not tonight."

Karen looked at him shamefully.  After Frank Castle's trial, Karen had discovered a new side of herself, an empathy towards criminals and vigilantes.  Maybe that clouded her judgement, or maybe it made it clearer; she had no idea.  "No...you have every right."

"What?"

"Nothi--" Karen stopped herself again.  She couldn't keep this to herself any longer.  The lying, the hiding from the truth of who she really was--the undying weight on her shoulders was getting heavier and heavier each day, and Matt had already given her all he had left.

Funny, how Matt's relationship-altering reveal was about to turn into the mutual exchange of dark secrets.

"I did something bad.  Really, really bad.  You probably feel like you have seen the worst in yourself, but at least you haven't--" She walked over to her desk and sat down, burying her head into her hands.  "You haven't done anything like this.  I know that now."

Matt pulled up a chair beside Karen.  He tried to think of something to say, but couldn't.

"You remember James Wesley, right?"  Karen's fingers interlocked, and she squeezed so hard that her knuckles turned white.

"Yeah, we all met him.  He worked for Fisk."

"But no one ever released what had happened to him," said Karen.

"I thought he was incarcerated with the rest of Fisk's men..." Karen shook her head.

"He—uh, he found out that Ben and I went to see Fisk's mother and...kidnapped me."

"Karen, why didn't you tell us about--"

"Because of what I did, okay?" Karen said suddenly.  Tears filled her eyes.  "Every day I replay it in my head.  Every day I see his--his face.  Every day I ask myself why I--"  She swallowed, squeezing her eyes shut.  "I shot him.  I killed him.  So I guess I can't really be mad at you for being Daredevil after what I did.  At least you've never killed anyone.  At least you're a good person.  Not me."

Matt had always known that something had been bothering Karen, but he hadn't realized that it was this extreme.  She thought that she shouldn't blame him because of what he did, but he can't blame her either, because he had tried to kill Fisk once.  It was an endless loop. Being a vigilante like Daredevil carried so much weight, so much darkness, that Matt surprises even himself.

Matt had always struggled with taking lives, ever since Stick trained him.  And Frank Castle had made things even more difficult for him.  But, he'd had time to think it over, and be at peace with his decisions, as well as his mistakes.  He had to be at peace with Karen's.

"Karen, you're a good person," said Matt reassuringly.  "He held you captive; you had no choice.  Self-defense."

"Then why do I feel this giant, dark hole inside me that gets bigger and bigger every single day?"

"It's because you're human," Matt explained.  "Even if it wasn't your fault, you still feel guilty.  It means you have a conscience, and that's a good thing.  The only way that you can fill this hole is by forgiving yourself.  It's the only thing you can do."

Matt rested his hand on top of hers, and her grip finally relaxed.  They stayed like this for quite some time, in silence.

Matt never asked her why she'd kept this from him all this time.  He didn't need to, because he already knew.  He felt the same way.  She didn't want people to look at her differently.  She didn't want her life to change.  All she wanted was to pretend that everything was okay.  But shit happens.

But, even with their lives in shambles, maybe there was potential that something could go right again.