Chapter Text
June, 2017.
It was late at night and the docks near Hell’s Kitchen.The air is thick with the smell of saltwater and rain. A large shipment of illegal arms is due to arrive soon, not a lot of people know that. But one person does.
Matt Murdock—Daredevil—is already on the rooftops, his head tilted to the side, his heightened hearing picking up every footstep, every whisper of wind that blows around him. But tonight, something feels off. His gut churns, telling him this is no ordinary deal.
He has an hour before the deal goes down.
He’s been doing this for a while. The vigilante part.
Taking down Wilson Fisk and staying alive in the process was truly a miracle. But Matt managed. With every single scar covering his body right now.
But the work is never done. At least not this work.
He shakes off the thoughts. The mission is what matters now, and he can't afford to get distracted. He refocuses his attention on the docks below, scanning for any movement, using his senses to pick up the subtle clues that will lead him to the arms deal. He closes his eyes and listens, the sounds around him blending together into a symphony he learned a long time ago how to understand.
Then, a soft click of heels cuts through the air. It’s weird because it’s a sound that Matt recognizes almost immediately, even before his heightened senses lock onto it. He feels it in his bones—the steady, rhythmic beat of her heartbeat, unmistakable. It’s a sound he’d know in a crowd of thousands without even trying. Like it was tattooed in his brain, even after eight years.
Natasha. Natalie.
Matt freezes for a moment, the sharp, familiar sound of her heart thundering in his ears. It hits him like a punch to the gut, one that he was not quite prepared for.
Not right now, not like this.
Not when he managed to keep her out of his life and thoughts for the past year since they last talked. He can feel the blood rushing in his veins, anger and longing mixing together something that he can’t escape. She’s the one person he never expected to see again, and yet here she is, so close that he can feel the weight of her presence in the air.
“Was I a mission to you?”
His own voice echoed in his head. Replaying it from three years ago. When he finally found out.
“You never were.”
Matt wondered if her voice still sounded the same. Warm. Hoarse.
“You know, you could have just asked me. You didn’t need to fuck me.”
“Now you’re just being an asshole.”
“And you’re a lying whore.”
Not his proudest moment. But maybe a really painful one.
Natasha creeped out of the shadows, her steps calculated, the faint sound of her breathing only serving to remind Matt that she’s not just a shadow in the night—she’s the woman who once meant everything to him. She doesn’t notice him, his steady frame feeling almost like a statue.
Matt gritted his teeth, his voice a low growl.
“Natasha.”
She stops a few feet away from him, and even though he can’t really see her, he knows exactly what she looks like—how her posture is tight, her movements still and controlled. Her heartbeats at a steady pace, but there’s something else there too. A subtle tension. He startled her. That used to be impossible.
“I didn’t expect to see you here.” Natasha said, coldly. Then it hit her. “Guess we’re both after the same thing.”
Matt’s pulse spiked, his mind whirling as he processed her words, but all he can focus on is the sound of her heartbeat. It’s still the same, but different. He can feel the slight quickening, the nervousness underneath. It’s not just about the mission—this is personal. And despite everything, despite the anger, the hurt, there’s a part of him that wishes it weren’t.
“So, you’re still working for the people who nearly ruined my city?”
He was clearly not an Avengers fan.
“What’s the deal this time, Natasha? Another mission? Another lie?” Matt scoffed.
He heard the shift in her heartbeat, the brief hesitation before she spoke again. It’s a sound he’s come to know all too well—her internal struggle, her attempt to mask what she’s feeling.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. And you don’t get to judge me, Matt. Not anymore.” Natasha said coldly, her voice tight.
Her words sting, but the sound of her heartbeat betrays her. It quickens just a little when she says his name. He knows she’s hiding something—he always did.
“I don’t get to judge you?” Matt’s fury rose, his fists clenching. Why did she get so much on his nerves?
“I’m not here for this. I believe you’re not, too.”
Her heartbeat quickens, just for a moment. He catches it, that small change, and it feels like a punch to the gut. It’s not just the anger talking now; it’s the pain, the years of unanswered questions.
“Look, we’ve been there.” Natasha lowered her voice, softer. “I didn’t want to hurt you. But I couldn’t keep you in my life. Not with the things I was involved in. You ... you deserved better than that.”
Matt’s heart started pounding in his chest, louder now, his senses overwhelmed by the combination of anger and old, fading feelings. He hates her for what she did, but damn it, there’s still a part of him that wants to believe her. That wants to believe she didn’t mean to break him the way she did.
“You really think that’s what it was? What I wanted?” Her tone shifted to something more vulnerable. “To use you? It wasn’t. I was trying to k–”
“Just cut it.” He spat.
The silence between them stretched long. Matt didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t make sense of the knot of emotions tightening in his chest. He could still hear her heartbeat, and it was all wrong. It’s too fast, too uneven, just like his own.
“I don’t need you to protect me.” Matt said bitterly, shaking his head.
The words hang in the air, and Natasha doesn’t move.
He couldn’t count how many seconds or minutes passed as they stayed there, facing each other.
“We’re still on the same side, Matt. Whether you like it or not.” Natasha said softly.
Matt can feel the softness of her words, but his anger outweighs it. He takes a deep breath, his pulse pounding in his ears, and he forces himself to focus.
She doesn’t get to be under his skin again.
“We’ll finish this mission. But after that? We’re done. I don’t need anything from you.”
She doesn’t answer at first, but the silence between them says more than words ever could. Natasha nods, almost imperceptibly, before turning away.
“Consider it understood.”
They both move into position, the tension palpable, but neither of them says another word. They’re partners, but only in this moment. The past still lingers, unspoken, and the sound of her heartbeat in Matt’s ears serves as a reminder of everything they were—and everything they can never be again.
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It was weird because it almost looked like they never parted ways. They moved in sync, beating every goon that showed up with grace.
The warehouse was dimly lit, the remnants of a failed arms deal strewn across the floor. Matt stood near a stack of crates, his senses alert, listening for the faintest movement or sound. Natasha, her back straight and poised, stood just a few feet away, a shadow of her former self in his eyes.
The silence between them is heavy, suffocating. Matt’s senses are attuned to everything around him—the faint creak of metal, the distant echo of sirens—but the sound of Natasha’s heartbeat is what grips him most. It’s steady, but there’s something in it, a tension, something he hasn’t heard in years.
He forces himself to ignore it.
“You’ve got your mission. I’ve got mine. Let’s keep it that way.” Matt says flat, dismissive.
Natasha glanced at him, taking a breath before speaking, but there’s no warmth in her words, just a hardened edge.
“ This isn’t just my mission, Matt. You’re involved, whether you like it or not. You’re here because you have something I need, and vice versa. We finish this, and it’s done.”
Matt doesn’t react at first. His face is unreadable, his posture rigid, a wall between them that’s grown thicker over the years. He doesn’t want to let her in, not again, but something about the weight of her presence—her scent, the subtle shift in her breathing—reminds him of what once was. But he doesn’t show it.
His jaw tightened.
“I didn’t ask for your help. You were the one who walked away. I’m just here because I need to finish this.”
Natasha didn’t flinch, but there was a flicker in her eyes, a subtle recognition that this is the only thing they can share anymore— this brief, cold partnership.
“Fine. Let’s not make this personal, then.” She said, approaching him with caution. “We both know why we’re here. Focus on the mission, and that’s all. We can pretend we don’t know each other after.”
Matt hears the bitterness in her voice, but it doesn’t make him soften. He doesn’t want to. He can’t. He’s learned to keep his emotions in check, to lock away anything that could hurt him again.
Thanks to her.
“That’s exactly the idea.”
They moved in tandem, as if working in sync despite the obvious strain. The mission is clear—shut down the arms deal, stop the bad guys, and get out. But with Natasha here, with the weight of the past between them, it’s hard for Matt to stay focused. He feels the familiar pull, but he doesn’t give into it.
Now they wait as the men slowly gather beneath them, unaware of the mess Natasha and Matt made outside.
She scanned the area as Matt stood still, his jaw clenched like he was holding it for dear life. They knew they had to wait. And that meant a few more minutes of silence and annoyed breaths.
Natasha was the first one to break it.
“You’re so tense. You didn’t use to be like that.” She said while not looking at him.
Matt stops mid-step, his hand resting on the side of a crate, listening. His senses sharpen, his pulse steady. But his response is sharper.
“I’m not here to talk about the past, Natasha. And I’m not here to pretend we’re something we’re not. Let’s keep our plan.
Natasha doesn’t respond right away, but the shift in her heartbeat betrays the small sting of his words. She knows what he means. She’s been through this before, with others, with herself. But she doesn’t let it show on the outside.
“Fine.” She brushed it off, her tone professional. “No more talking. Just work.”
They proceed in silence, their movements sharp and precise. Every sound, every footstep, every creak of the floor beneath them feels louder than it should, a reminder of the space between them. The tension is thick, and even though Matt can sense the regret that Natasha’s trying to hide, he refuses to acknowledge it. She made her choice. She made his choice for him.
They reach the control room where the final pieces of the deal are taking place, the room lit by dim overhead lights and the low hum of machinery. Matt listens for the conversation, the faint voices drifting through the walls. Natasha stands beside him, her focus unwavering.
“They're about to move. We can’t waste any more time.” Matt barely whispers.
“You take the left side. I’ll handle the right.”
Matt nods once, and without another word, they split. Natasha moves like a shadow, efficient and silent, while Matt keeps his senses sharp, feeling the pulse of the room. He’s working with her. He has no choice. But every time he hears her breath, every time he senses her near him, something inside him twists. He hates that he can’t completely shut it down. He hates that, despite everything, his body still remembers what it was like to be near her.
The mission proceeds like this, the cold professionalism between them the only thing holding it together. They work as a team, their movements synchronized despite the distance between them. When it’s done—when the last of the weapons are seized, the criminals handcuffed, and the authorities are called—it’s over.
But neither of them feels the satisfaction of success.
They stand near the door, both catching their breath, but neither of them is facing the other. Natasha’s heartbeat, once erratic, steadies itself again, but Matt can still sense the underlying unease in it. He knows she’s not done with this—she never is. But he doesn’t give her the satisfaction of bringing it up.
“It’s done. We’re done.” Matt turned to her.
Natasha quietly watches him for a moment, then takes a deep breath, her body language guarded.
“You’ll never forgive me, will you?”
Matt’s face hardens, but he doesn’t look at her. He knows where this conversation would go if he let it, and he’s not going to let her make him feel anything. Not again.
“I’m not here for this. I’m here to finish the job. And I did.”
He turns away from her, walking toward the exit, his steps brisk, purposeful. Natasha watches him go, but she doesn’t move to stop him.
She knows there’s no point.
He turns away from her, his footsteps heavy as he moves toward the exit, the weight of her words sinking into the space between them. Natasha watches him go, her chest tight with the frustration of it all. She knows she’s the one who destroyed everything.
But it still hurts .
She hears his footsteps fading into the distance. Natasha stands still for a moment, the silence around her deafening, before she finally turns and walks in the opposite direction, knowing this mission is the only thing they can share for now.
And maybe that’s enough.