Dedicated to mattheosprincess274

     As thunder rumbled overhead, Karen braced herself against the cold bite of the rain and slipped into her apartment, the door creaking as it swung slowly open. Her chest heaving as the image of Daniel Fisher's dead body came rushing back to her, Karen forced herself past the blood-stained carpet and into the bathroom. Stepping onto the toilet, she reached into the vent overhead and retrieved the flash drive that contained the Union Allied pension file.

     Closing her fist around the flash drive with a sigh of relief, Karen made her way out of the bathroom and into the living area, unaware that Rance was silently closing the distance behind her. Rushing forward, Rance grabbed Karen from behind and wrapped his arms around her waist, slamming her head against the wall and stunning her before she had the chance to scream.

     Retrieving the flash drive from off the floor and stowing it in his pocket, Rance flicked the blade of his pocketknife open and stalked toward Karen, who was still on the ground. Looming over her, Rance only turned when the door to Karen's apartment opened and revealed a man in black. Matt – having heard Karen's departure from his apartment – had donned his black mask and body armor, knowing those who had tried to kill her before would likely do so again.

     Charging toward the mercenary and ducking beneath the blade of his knife, Murdock tackled Rance onto the coffee table, which crumpled beneath their weight. Both combatants quickly got to their feet, with Matt grabbing the assassin's wrist and halting the blade as it neared his face. Maintaining his hold on the mercenary's wrist, Matt backed away each time Rance attempted to knee him in the chest.

     Eventually, he lunged forward, shoving the knife aside with one hand while simultaneously punching Rance in the face with the other. Landing blow after blow, Matt eventually forced Rance to lower the knife. When Rance reached for Murdock's neck, Matt trapped the assassin's arm against his body and bent his elbow backwards. Rance screamed as bones cracked and desperately thrust forward with his knife, but Matt was able to dodge his every advance.

     Grabbing Rance's arm as he slashed downward, Matt wrenched the mercenary's feet out from under him and sent him flipping end over end, until he eventually landed on his back. Springing to his feet, Rance tackled Matt to the ground as Murdock kneed him in the stomach, and the two men rolled across the carpet. Kicking Rance in the back, Matt grabbed the assassin by his waist and threw him into the nearby side table.

     Though clearly injured, the relentless mercenary pushed to his feet. When he attempted to stab Murdock once more, Matt bolstered himself on Rance's shoulders and hopped from wall to wall before landing behind the mercenary and securing him in a chokehold. Straining to free himself from Matthew's grip, Rance thrashed toward the nearest window and threw himself through the glass, taking Murdock with him.

     Plummeting several stories, their fall was only broken when they crashed onto the scaffolding that covered portions of the building. Barely conscious as he rolled onto the ground, Matt was transported to the past by the raindrops that relentlessly pounded the cement around him.

...

     "Get up, Matty," Jack Murdock said as he ruffled his son's hair. "Hey. Let's go, finish up."

     Matt groaned from where he slept with his head resting on the kitchen table, using his homework as a pillow as rain pelted the back door.

     "I'm tired, Dad."

     "Hey, I don't want you to end up like your old man," Jack replied as he grabbed a bag of peas from the freezer and settled beside Matt, icing his head. "I never studied. Look where it got me."

     Grimacing when he realized his mistake, Jack sighed and gently took his son's hand, placing it on the gash that ran down the right side of his face. Though he winced in pain, his blood dripping onto the table, Jack allowed Matt to explore the injuries to his face.

     "Come on, Matty," he said quietly after a moment. "Get to work."

...

     Spitting up a mouthful of blood, Matt forced himself to his knees and listened to Rance's footsteps as the mercenary staggered down a metal staircase. As Rance charged toward him, Matt pushed to his feet and spun around his opponent, punching him several times in the face before shoving him into the scaffolding. When Murdock advanced once more, Rance anticipated his attack and moved to meet him.

     Lifting Matthew up and off his feet, Rance carried him several yards before pounding him into the ground. Straddling the vigilante's chest and pinning him down, Rance wrapped his fingers around Matt's neck. Struggling to breathe, Matt rammed his hands into the mercenary's elbows and managed to break free. He shoved Rance aside, but the assassin quickly gained the upper hand, punching Matt several times in the face before kneeing him in the stomach.

     As Matt fell, Rance scrambled for his fallen knife, which lay discarded on the pavement. Knowing the mercenary's intent, Matt jumped to his feet and blocked his opponent's advance. Pivoting beneath the blade of Rance's pocketknife, Matt delivered a solid blow to the mercenary's jaw, nearly knocking him off his feet.

     Unfortunately, now exhausted and moving much slower than before, Rance easily dodged Matt's second advance, flipping end over end down the street. Gaining confidence from his adversary's failed attack, Rance darted forward, his knife raised and ready to strike. Leaning backwards and out of harm's way, Matt grabbed Rance's arm as it passed by his face.

     Luckily, when Rance dropped his dagger, Matt realized he was transferring the weapon to his free hand and bounced backwards, just in time to avoid being gutted. With his grip firmly around Rance's arm, Matt flipped the assassin onto his back and snapped his arm at the elbow, leaving the mercenary writhing in agony. After a moment, both men staggered to their feet, and Matt placed his back to the scaffolding.

     Steadying his breath, Matt heard a metal clink, clink, clink to his left and reached out. Snagging a metal chain between his fingers, Matt halted Rance's blade before headbutting him. When Rance stumbled, Matt wrapped the chain around his throat before punching him repeatedly in the face and chest.

     With his last burst of energy, he spun around and kicked Rance in the stomach, knocking himself off his own feet in the process. Laying on the ground for a moment to catch his breath, Matt eventually got to his feet with a groan when he noticed Karen standing several feet away.

     "Who..." Karen sputtered as Matt fished the flash drive from Rance's pocket. "What the hell?"

     "I'll get this into the right hands," he promised, lowering his voice so Karen would not recognize it.

     "No, you can't," she protested when he turned to walk away. "You can't take it to the police. You can't trust anyone."

     "Then we tell everyone."

     Dragging the battered Rance behind him, Matt left the hired assassin on the steps of the New York Bulletin with the pension fund flash drive taped to his chest. The next morning, James Wesley found himself reading the headline, "UNION ALLIED CORRUPTION SCANDAL" on the front page of the newspaper.

     "DNA evidence will put Rance at the murder scene," Wesley claimed. "B-and-E gone sideways, his records altered in support. Mr. Farnum's bail has been arranged for through the usual channels. Leland's to cover our exposure on the financials and McClintock takes the fall for Union Allied."

     "We can't have McClintock speaking to the authorities," His employer's voice crackled from the phone in his lap.

     "Pills. He overdosed less than an hour ago. The remaining concerns will be attended to shortly."

     My stomach churned from where I sat beside James in the back of an armored SUV. Though I was no stranger to his employer's methods, I had never grown accustomed to them.

     "Rance was a professional. How was he subdued?" Wesley's employer asked.

     "I'm looking into it. What about the girl? Should I make the appropriate arrangements for her, along with the others?"

     My heart skipped a beat as Wesley mentioned Karen, and I struggled to maintain a neutral expression.

     "No. Everything she knows is already in the papers," his employer responded. "Her lawyers, Nelson and Murdock."

     Shit.

     "Ambulance chasers. They're clean."

     Rather than replying to Wesley, his employer addressed me, "Start a file, Maria. They may be of use."

     I nodded with a heavy heart, "Understood. And this so-called 'Man in Black'?"

     "Your sister will handle him."

...

     "Here you go," Karen said as she placed the serving dish between Matt and Foggy. "So, I know it's not much...in the way of repayment. But it is, um, my grandmother's recipe, and she made me promise only to serve it to my future husband."

     The two lawyers chuckled with raised eyebrows as Karen quickly explained, "You know, it's, like, filled with virtue or something."

     "I thought I detected a whiff of virtue in there," Matt replied.

     "Not that I'm complaining," Foggy started as Page laughed, "but you really should be thanking the nut in the mask."

     "He's not a nut," Karen argued. "I mean, he's a little weird, maybe—"

     "We're just glad you're okay," Matt interrupted.

     "Hear, hear!" Foggy agreed as he raised his glass.

     "Well, if it weren't for you two, I'd still be in that cell."

     "Job's easy when your client's innocent. All you did was tell the truth," Matt responded.

     "Yeah, but you listened."

     As Matt spooned a forkful of food into his mouth, Foggy added, "Oh, and don't get us wrong, we're still gonna bill you. Just as soon as we figure out how to make bills."

     Matt snorted with laughter as Karen admitted, "I did notice that you could use some help around here. And I owe you. Maybe I could clean the place up a bit."

     Matt arched an eyebrow, "Is this place messy?"

     "Our firm is very prestigious and discerning, Miss Page," Foggy corrected, though he struggled to keep a straight face. "Do you have any prior experience hiding electrical cords up in ceiling tiles?"

     The trio burst into laughter as Karen replied, "Uh, no, but...I'll work for free."

     "Yeah, you're hired," Matt stated.

     "You just got hired!" Foggy agreed as Karen chuckled and bowed her head.

     That night, Matthew stepped inside Fogwell's Gym just as it was closing for the night, walking past walls covered in yellowed flyers announcing past boxing matches between his father and numerous other fighters.

     Slipping the janitor a twenty-dollar bill, he said, "You can leave the lights off."

     After setting his walking stick on the floor of the elevated ring, Matt removed his glasses and placed them beside his duffel bag, from which he removed a roll of gauze. Once he had wrapped his hands and wrists for support, Matt shrugged out of his sweatshirt and moved to the punching bag.

     Though his work as a vigilante called for keeping himself fit and training on a regular basis, Matt knew he had likely brought a much bigger fight to his front step by ridding Karen of the pension fund. What he did not realize, however, was that he had brought an all-out war to his door, one that was currently being prepared for by those on the other side.

     As Matt dealt blow after blow to the punching bag, Leland Owlsley settled in front of his computers and transferred the millions of dollars found within the pension fund to another account, erasing the money trail Union Allied had left behind. As the accounts closed one by one, Tracy Farnum walked into her father's laundry room, only to drop the basket in her hands when she found him dead of an apparent self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head.

     Her scream pierced the night as officers discovered Rance hanging in his cell, having also died by apparent suicide. Deep within the heart of Hell's Kitchen, Madame Gao strolled silently past the rows of people who worked in her sweatshop and made heroin without the use of their eyes, as they had been blinded to maintain plausible deniability and keep Gao's part in the illegal trade secret.

     As Nobu Yoshioka and his associates sectioned off a block of Hell's Kitchen for their use, Turk Barrett purchased multiple cases worth of black-market weapons, which he then transferred to Vladimir Ranskahov and his brother. With their new weapons now stored, Vladimir and Anatoly set off to lure the Man in Black in. Knowing the vigilante was driven by his morals, the brothers targeted a father and his young son.

     Cutting the mini-van off as it drove down the street, Anatoly hauled the father out of the driver's seat and helped his men beat the man in front of his son. Turning to the boy, Vladimir yanked the passenger door open and wrenched the child from the car, though he refrained from muffling the boy's cries in hopes that the Man in Black would hear.

     Sure enough, the boy's screams cut through the hustle and bustle of New York City to where Matthew perched atop his apartment building. Every night, he listened intently for those who might need his help, hoping their cries would rise above the thousands of overlapping voices and reach his waiting ears.

     Tonight was one of those nights:

     "Help! Daddy!"

     Pulling a black mask over his eyes, the Devil of Hell's Kitchen leapt off the building and toward the boy who desperately needed his help, unaware that he was diving headfirst into a trap.