//------------------------------// // Chapter 19 - He’s Not Your Responsibility // Story: This War of Ours // by JDPrime22 //------------------------------// Hell’s Kitchen, Manhattan Home of Matthew Murdock 9:54 a.m. Karen Page was sure to knock twice and wait. Just like she always had. For several seconds, she waited by the door, waited for some kind of response, but received nothing. Looking back to her phone, she recalled earlier that morning to the call she received. Matt telling her to meet him at his home. Well, she was there, and there was no sign of him. She knocked again, called his name, and still nothing. It wasn’t the first time Matt had been running late, she knew it wasn’t going to be the last. At least she now knew why he was always so late. Karen pulled out her phone again after nearly a minute of waiting, ready to dial Matt’s number. She paused at the last number, her eyes darting behind her the moment she heard the footsteps. And there he stood by the open door, Matt Murdock, dressed in a wet, torn, filthy suit. His hair was damp and stuck to his forehead, streams of dirty rain water and mixtures of sweat flowing down to his face. Water droplets remained on his dark glasses. In his shaking hands, his cane was gripped tightly, drops of rain falling from him and forming a small puddle surrounding his shoes. He was completely out of breath, barely standing on his own. He didn’t have to say anything. Karen was already by his side, helping him open his door, and lead him into his own apartment. She tried to help him with his clothes, but Matt told her otherwise. Taking a seat on his couch, Matt removed his suit and tie, placing the wet clothing on the floor beside him. As he removed his shirt, he asked Karen for a cup of water. She nodded, entering the kitchen merely feet away and filling the cleanest glass cup with faucet water. She returned to him, held out the cup, and watched as he reached back without looking and grabbed the glass. He muttered a thank you, then gulped down the glass in less than five seconds. Karen strolled off to the closet and pulled out a dry towel. Observing it shortly, she slowly brought her eyes over to a shirtless Matt, seeing him remove his shoes, followed by his socks. She approached him, asking, “What were you doing out there, Matt?” Matt turned his attention to her, then to the towel in her hands. Another thanks, and he grabbed the towel from her grip, removing his glasses and drying his hair and face. Karen waited for a response, watching Matt’s movements and actions carefully. He used to hide it so well, but ever since she met him back at his business things had never been the same. He never tried to hide it around her anymore. She could never look at him the same way again. How could she? Ever since she knew him, Karen believed Matt to be just a simple lawyer who had been down on his luck every now and again. The bruises on his face, the blood on his knuckles, the scrapes on his body all could have been due to the fact that he was blind and had run into a few things, met a few thugs at a bad corner of town. But no. Matt hadn’t done any of those things. He had faced those thugs and came out of it alive because… Because he could see. Because he was Daredevil. Karen didn’t know how to respond at first. It could have been Matt’s pathetic attempt to prove why he hadn’t shown up to work every other day, or why he had missed almost all of Frank Castle’s trials. Then he settled down, started to tell her everything. Everything about him, his past, his father, Elektra, his time outside the office. Nothing left to hide, no more to hold in. He laid it all out for Karen, opened his heart to her and gave her the truth. After all that he had said that night, Karen thought heavily on everything he had told her. She thought back to all those times the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen risked his life to save her, and wondered if it really was the same man she had fallen for. She could see Matt waiting for a response, and she wondered if he could actually see her making one, the expression in her face evident to that. He had lied to her, and he did so for her protection. If anyone knew Daredevil was Matt Murdock, anyone Matt may have made to be an enemy, then they had a way to Murdock through her. That was understandable. But he also lied about being blind. He explained everything with the chemicals, Stick, and the world on fire. He didn’t want her to think he was someone else other than a blind lawyer. And even after all of that, Karen made one of the toughest decisions in her life that night and believed him. Now, she stood staring at the drenched man, waiting for a response. Lowering the towel from his face, Matt lifted his gaze, his seemingly blank eyes staring at her. “I found him, Karen,” Matt began, waiting for a response. She crossed her arms, but didn’t say anything. “I found Frank.” Her arms fell to her sides. Frank Castle. The Punisher. The man who had lost everything and taken so much from the Kitchen. Karen had known him after he basically tried to hunt her down when she was caring for one of the remaining survivors of the Irish Mob, Elliot Grote. He killed Grote, but he also got caught up with the Irish again, and nearly got himself killed doing so. Since then, his crimes came back to bite him, and soon found himself in court. Karen had worked with Foggy to defend Castle, and had almost won the case had it not been for Matt and Castle screwing everything up. Castle, especially, who had purposefully ruined their chances at getting him free. He said he didn’t regret a damn thing, and that he would gladly go back and kill every single person he had already murdered. It didn’t end there for him, she knew it. Prison couldn’t hold Castle, and it didn’t. The last she had seen him was when he had murdered the Blacksmith, the man who had dealt with the Irish, Cartel, and Dogs of Hell. It was those gangs and the chaos they caused which got Castle’s family killed. Since then, since he murdered the Blacksmith right in front of her, Karen had never seen Frank Castle again. Karen sat down next to him. Matt watched her movements, stared into her eyes, and waited for a response. Breathing softly, she asked, “Where was he? What was he doing?” “I saw him getting in a taxi and going to LaGuardia Airport,” he replied. Noticing the strange look in her eyes, he added, “I followed him.” “All the way to Queens?!” Karen gasped, now understanding his appearance upon first arriving. He nodded. “Oh, my God, Matt…” Karen whispered. Matt wiped down his forearm with the towel. “I followed him inside the airport. He must have been using a fake ID, because he bought a passport to Vienna.” Karen stared at him. “Austria?” she asked, Matt nodding. “Where the bombing at the UN building was?” He nodded again. “You saw the news?” Matt asked. Karen nodded, thinking back to earlier that morning and the report she saw on her television screen. “Yeah, but—” “All of it?” She turned to face Matt, see the blankness in his stare, and saw so much more. He breathed silently, his expression stoic. She nodded again. “Yeah… but why would Frank—?” Karen stopped. Her brow furrowed, then shot upwards, a tiny gasp escaping her. “No…” she whispered, facing away then back to Matt. “No, you don’t think he would…? Would he?” “This is Castle we’re talking about, the guy who takes the law into his own hands, who murders murderers without a second thought. You know as well as I do, Karen,” Matt said, staring at her the entire time, looking right through her blazing skin in the furnace he always saw. “He’s going to Vienna to kill the Winter Soldier.” His jaw tightened as he looked away. “We have to stop him.” Karen was afraid of that. Frank had always been a strange obsession for Matt, someone Matt always thought he could turn but failed every time. Perhaps he was someone Karen thought could turn, as well. She said, “Matt, we can’t keep chasing this. Frank chose his life, let us choose ours. If he wants to get involved with these… these super soldiers, then let him.” She placed her palm gently on his shoulder. “He’s not your responsibility.” For a while, Matt eased into her touch, his own hand rising to grace hers. Matt hadn’t thought back to his relationship with Karen after that night, after she was done with him. As well, Karen didn’t know what to think, either. It was always something Matt was hiding that made her so furious, but now that she knew… that he was Daredevil… all the things he did, every time he would save her, she knew it was him. And she didn’t know what to do from there. She lowered her hand away from him. “Karen…” Matt said, standing up. He turned to face her. “Frank is getting into shit he doesn’t understand, that none of us will understand. The Winter Soldier is a ghost story, the one responsible for political assassinations since the end of World War 2. Frank won’t stop. If Frank chases this ghost, if he gets caught or worse… killed, then we’ll never be able to help him. You will never be able to help him.” Karen thought back to the long hours she would spend on the Castle case, to the heartbreak of learning the truth of his family. As if taking the lives of criminals will ever bring them back. Karen shook her head. “Why, Matt?” she asked, looking up at him. “Why do you want to help Castle?” Matt breathed in. He answered, “Because I don’t want him to die while I know I could have made a difference in him.” The two shared a long stare, Matt eventually falling down next to her. He placed the towel beneath him, careful not to ruin his couch any further with his soaked pants. Leaning forward, Matt’s hands intertwined, a long sigh escaping him. “And we may be able to save another life in the process.” Karen turned to him. “You think the Winter Soldier is innocent?” she asked. “I believe there’s a chance for everyone,” he replied, staring forward. He faced her shortly, nodding. “But we won’t know for sure unless we get to the bottom of it. We have to go to Vienna, Karen. We have to stop Frank, and maybe figure out who’s behind all of this.” Instead of nodding in agreement, Karen only sighed, breaking away from Murdock and staring at the carpet beneath them. They sat on the wet couch together, listening to the rain smack against the windows, listening to each other’s own breathing. One listening to another’s own heartbeat. “Vienna,” Karen mumbled, Matt turning to her. “It’s not gonna be cheap.” Matt nodded. “We’ll manage.” “You really think you can help him after all he’s done?” she asked, facing him once again. Once again, Matt just stared at her for several seconds. He saw her burning in the world on fire, the pulsating edges of her skin radiating light and imagery. He saw the beauty in that burn. He saw her. He saw Karen Page. “I don’t know,” Matt replied. “But I have to try.” Matt watched as her subtle movements approached him. Her hand cautiously slipped into his, unsure at first, then with certainty, and finally gripped his fingers and intertwined them with her own. “We have to try,” Karen told him. Matt finally smiled, and finally gripped her palm.