Loss
Matt Murdock's hands roam of the cold, rigid features of the woman on the table beneath him, and he doesn't need sight to know who this is. He can feel it in scar on her left cheek from a childhood accident involving a fall from a tree. He can smell it in the Lavender perfume she always wore, the only perfume that he liked as much as Rose Oil. He can almost taste the scent of the citrus lotion she used, can feel the softness of her hair.
The call from Ben Urich hit him like a sucker punch to the gut. He and Urich were friends, but they'd been out of touch for a long time. When Ben called him, Matt had expected a tip-off on an arms deal, or information on a slave ring, or something like that. But the words out of Ben's mouth, he couldn't have imagined hearing in a million years.
Milla Donovan is dead, Matt. She's been murdered.
After confirming the identity of his ex-wife, Matt left the Coroner's Office and started walking. He was so numb, so cold, that he hadn't found time to cry yet. He would cry now; it was too soon. He remembered the the same thing happening with his father; the tears didn't come until much later. For now, Matt had to concentrate on the only thing that mattered until then.
Justice.
Luckily, Ben Urich also helped there.
"Matt, there was an eyewitness to the crime. Says he got a good look at the man who attacked Milla." Ben said. "Police say the description matches a known felon by the name of Carter Deems. They say he's done some work for the Triad boys out of Chinatown."
"Thanks, Ben." Matt said as he walked away, the cold in his belly giving way to a heat that burned through every vein his body.
"What are you going to do, Matt?" Ben asks, though his tone indicates that he already knows the answer.
"I'll do what I do, Ben. Don't worry about me."
--
In the dark of night, Daredevil finds himself outside the Eighth Street Bar, a hangout of known thugs, scoundrels and felons. Deems is said to come here often, and Daredevil waits. He could smell Deems' spicy, soapy cologne mixed with the other scents on Milla's body. Matt hadn't stayed with the body so long completely because he was having trouble letting go, but because he wanted to make sure that he didn't identify the wrong man.
Down on the street, the bouncer at the door greets someone. With all the rancor about the place, few people would hear it unless they were close; Daredevil might as well have been standing right next to them as well as he heard it.
"Yo, Carter! Good to see you, dawg! Boss man wants to talk to you in back." the bouncer says.
Gotcha. the Guardian Devil smiles. He pulls his billy club free of its holster, and fires a line toward the light pole across the street. When it's secure, he swings down feet first, crossing the two story drop between his building and the bar in seconds to drive the bouncer through the plate glass window to the inside of the bar.
The music stops and the patrons all look at the Guardian of Hell's Kitchen as if they're seeing a ghost. His next four words are somewhere between a growl and a snarl, full of menace.
"Where is Carter Deems?"
