Last installment in my Urban Legend universe. This story won't make any sense if you haven't read some of the other stories of the series.

Set after season 2 of Daredevil, end of season 5 of Person of Interest.

Matt Murdock was working in his office, his hands running over the refreshable Braille. The street was unusually quiet, so the sound of the explosion made him jump in surprise.

In a second, he had left his office and went to the window located behind Karen's desk. He tilted his head, all his senses wide open. He frowned in confusion, trying to make sense of the information he was getting.

Karen approached her boss and reached out; but stopping her hand at the last moment. Matt appeared to be concentrating deeply, his face showing a growing distress.

"Matt," she called softly not wanted to startle him.

The lawyer put a hand on the window feeling the ripples of the air on the glass.

"Somebody shot a missile into a building in the city," Matt said softly, putting together the different sounds he perceived.

"What?" Karen gasped taking her hand to her mouth aghast.

"There's been an explosion," the young man explained, moving towards the door.

Knowing she had his attention, Karen put her hand on his arm.

"Matt, there's nothing you can do." She could hear his protest before he even opened his mouth. "Let the firemen and police do their work. You would only be in the way… and besides it is broad daylight."

Matt almost whined in distress. He hated staying on the sidelines, he needed to do something, but Karen was right. There wasn't a single thing he could do now, neither as a lawyer nor as Daredevil. He covered Karen's hand on his arm with his own.

"Can you check what happened? There's bound to be some live feeds already…"

Placing a soft kiss on the hand, Karen turned to her computer and started her research.

Standing behind her, he brushed her long blond hair, still amazed that she was by his side.

A few weeks ago, he had finally found the courage to tell her the truth about his night activities. Now that he thought about it, he should give a call to John to thank him for their last conversation and the advice to come clean with Karen.

Saying that she had been hurt by the revelation would have been the understatement of the year. He could feel the anger coming out in waves that could have blown the furniture away. He had let her throw all that fury at him, welcoming it, nothing would ever wash his guilt. Being shredded to pieces felt good, almost as good as beating bad guys to a pulp. The betrayal she felt was nothing compared to how bad he felt for having kept it from her for so long.

She had finally collapsed; literally exhausted by the outburst and the pain. He had sat down on the ground a few feet from her, not ready to touch her or even start talking at first. The words came later. Not asking for her forgiveness but trying to convey how some secrets were too hard to share. The way she had tensed made him think that she had her own hidden demons. But this was about his secrets, not hers. After spending the night exchanging words and silences, she had asked him to leave her alone for a while. That had hurt more than all the rest. But he had always known that he was bound to spend his life alone, his secret too dark to be accepted. He had spent the night prowling Hell's Kitchen, so full of need to vent his frustration that Daredevil earned himself a page in the Mirror for the sheer number of perps he had stopped that night.

But since then, Karen had come back to the office to work for Nelson & Murdock, minus Nelson. She would need some more time before she could totally forgive him, but she seemed to understand him better every day. And he could feel her silent questions every morning he came in with a new visible bruise.

Coming out of his reverie Matt was just in time to hear the end of Karen's answer.

"...not much yet," Karen stated. "There's been an explosion on the top of a building; nobody knows about casualties yet."

"Keep an eye out, will you please?"

He couldn't wait for the night to come for him to suit up and go check the surroundings. Concentrating on his work for the rest of the day was hard.

Standing on the rooftop of the closest building, Daredevil listened to the activity. Police, firemen, FBI, CIA, NSA, there wasn't a single agency that wasn't present, and so far none of them appeared to have an explanation for what had happened.

A missile had destroyed the rooftop of the building, and in doing so had very effectively removed any evidence as to why the building had been targeted in this way. From information he had gathered, bodies had been found, as well as heavy weapons. Shoot out on a rooftop?

Going back down to the street level, he stayed in the shadows trying to hear the officials and reports that emanated from the scene of controlled chaos.

"They found bodies on the rooftop. Autopsies are going to be a bitch. There's not much left…"

"Pinpoint accuracy. Almost no collateral damage…"

Whoever had shot the missile had been targeting a precise spot. Apparently the damage had been limited. Matt couldn't help feeling relieved. Explosions in New York were always a nightmare.

After a few hours listening to the different reports, he went back home. Nothing he could do; nothing more that he could learn about what had happened. He would have to rely on the news the same everyone else.

The following morning, he remembered that he had made himself a promise. He picked up his phone and dialed John's number. His call went straight to voice mail.

"Hey John. I've been meaning to thank you for our last conversation. I… talked to Karen… Huh… call me? We could have a drink?"

During the following days, he kept checking the news about the explosion and his phone for John's call back. A growing feeling of unease started to creep into his mind. Of course, the two things weren't related, but not being able to find any answers was starting to get on his nerves. Karen seemed to feel his state of mind and made herself discreet, dropping any information she could find about the investigation on his desk, but not discussing the topic.

On the third night, he put his suit on and decided to pay John a visit at the subway station. He had only gone once uninvited, but he could always explain that he was worried because John had not answered his message.

He still remembered the code on the vending machine, and luckily it hadn't been altered. He noticed the change in atmosphere from the top of the stairs. The humming of the machines was absent. Going down quickly he had the feeling of entering a great hall. He studied the room around him. The train had disappeared as well as whatever machinery had been running the only other time he had been there. The place was totally empty, clearly vacated by its inhabitants.

"John," he whispered. "What mess did you get in this time?"

If he wasn't in his "secret" lair, maybe looking out for the "detective" would be more effective. Getting to the 8th precinct didn't take him that long. Rooftops weren't known for red lights and traffic.

Perched on a darkened stairwell, he listened in, hoping to track any information that would let him know where to find John.

"Yeah, it's confirmed, a detective has been killed…"

"Autopsy results have been confirmed. They had to check dental…"

"No idea what he was doing up there..."

"Yeah, an officer from the 8thprecinct..."

"John Riley, used to work narcotics before…"

John? Matt stumbled and reached the wall for support. No, it couldn't be. He extended his hearing to his limits, trying to catch any information that would prove that he had misunderstood the news.

But the more he listened, the more difficult it became to ignore the truth. No one knew what he was doing on the top of the building and why his body had apparently been shot several times, but one of the casualties was indeed, Detective John Riley of the NYPD.

Matt would never know how he ended up under a water tank on a roof, but when he came to his senses his mask was wet with tears and he was finding it hard to breathe. He tore his mask off his face with more force than needed and let the tears flow freely. He soon realized that his tears were more rage at seeing the end of a good man, a hero really, than the loss of a man he hardly knew enough to call a friend.

Sitting on the hard ground, he let his mind wander back to their different encounters. In the end, the question that remained was, who was really John? Clearly not John Riley even though that would probably be the name carved on the tombstone.

Lost in his memories, he didn't realize the last stars had vanished a while ago and the light of a new day was making itself visible. He avoided going out during the day, it was too likely that he would be spotted. He wouldn't make it to his place, but Karen's apartment wasn't that far, he should be able to make it before dawn fully broke.

Getting in was ridiculously easy. He would need to insist on her getting better locks. Not bothering to be silent, he let himself fall heavily on the couch and ripped his mask off.

"Whoever you are, get out now. I have a gun and know how to use it," Karen's voice boomed in the dark flat.

Matt couldn't help a chuckle. "Do you really or are you just pointing a banana at me?"

He could hear the relieved sigh and the steps approaching.

"Matt, what…" She turned the light on and then stopped. "Daredevil?" she whispered.

Matt had never come to her place in his suit, well not since he had saved her life. And then he had just been a stranger that had rescued her.

She spotted his red eyes. "Matt, what happened?"

She rushed to his side, and wrapped her arms around him. He returned the embrace fiercely and Karen couldn't help a grunt.

"Sorry," he apologized loosening his grip but not letting her go.

She rubbed his back softly, comforting him as she would a child. After a while, he let her go and brushed her cheek with his knuckles.

A look at his face told Karen that he wasn't ready to talk yet. She got up and made some coffee.

Bringing back the steaming mugs, she sat by his side and handed him his.

"What have I done to deserve you?" he asked placing a soft kiss on her lips.

She smiled softly. She often wondered the reverse.

"Did something happen? You've never come to my place in your… suit."

"Got sidetracked and didn't realize it was this late, or early… I don't know."

He sipped from the cup.

"I've been looking for more information about the explosion."

"Yes, of course," Karen spat. Matt raised an eyebrow. "I almost threw you out of the office, I couldn't stand how you fidgeted anymore."

"I don't fidget!" Matt exclaimed.

"You do. I don't understand why you're so upset by this accident. Unfortunately it's not the first time a building has been blown up."

"Last time was Fisk's doing. We know that."

"So, what did you find out?"

"John was killed." Saying it out loud renewed the pain. He hid his face with the coffee mug.

"John?" Karen asked softly. She didn't know of any John whose death would affect Matt that deeply.

"A… friend. Sort of…" How could he explain who John was? He didn't even know the guy's real name. He only knew that the man had held onto his secret as firmly as Matt did.

Karen didn't push it. She had only learned about Matt's double life a few weeks ago, she knew there would be endless secrets to be revealed, but now was not the time to dig. Her friend seemed too shaken up by the death of that "sort of a friend."

Matt finished his coffee in silence. "Karen, could you do me a favor?"

"Of course Matt, you don't need to ask."

"Keep an eye on the obituaries? Detective John Riley, from the 8th, I would like to go to his funeral."

"Sure, I'll let you know."

Matt was tying his tie when there was a knock at the door. He turned his head in surprise. Karen?

He went to open the door.

"Karen? I'm sorry but I'm leaving in a few minutes," he apologized.

"You didn't think I'd let you go to John's funeral alone?"

"I…"

"Matt Murdock, you're going to have to realize that I'm a friend and you are stuck with me forever. For good times and bad times, so you better get used to it."

Matt smiled. "Thank you, friend," he said, placing a kiss on her forehead.

"More than friend," she whispered, placing her lips on his.

He took her face in his hand deepening the kiss. They hadn't kissed since their "date", too long ago; their feelings resurfaced as they melted in the embrace. They separated when the need to breathe became more important than the need to claim each other's mouth. They remained; their foreheads touching, savoring the memory of the kiss.

"I really need to leave…" Matt whispered softly.

Karen found that she had lost her voice and just nodded.

The day was cold. A typical New York winter day, when the only sane thing to do would be to stay inside, preferably under a warm blanket.

The ceremony had been a simple one. John had no family and few friends. Some colleagues from the 8th precinct were present, but oddly enough none from his time in narcotics. Karen was whispering to him, describing the people present, the ones that remained behind once the body had been lowered to the ground and the last words delivered.

Matt approached the grave to drop a single flower.

"You didn't keep your end of the bargain John. You promised me to tell me the truth…" he whispered. Truth be told, John had indeed specified he would tell him if. "If we get out of this alive" had been his words. Had he known that he would end up dead on the roof top of that building?

"Zoe Morgan is there!" Karen whispered in awe, at his side.

She knew of the woman, having heard of her special field of expertise. To say that she admired her was untrue; she revered her. Karen would have become her secretary for free given the opportunity.

Matt knew Zoe Morgan too of course. He also knew how she and John had been close, very close indeed. Of course John hadn't told him all the details of their encounters, but he had told him that the woman had helped them several times. Matt wasn't sure about how far their "partnership" went. But then again John had been telling him about the "women in his life". In honesty he couldn't remember half of what John had told him. He was just using his voice to focus and try to get his senses in control. Although in the end, it was Finch's rigged white noise generator that had done the trick.

Approaching her directly would be awkward, but being blind offered its advantages. Time to get clumsy.

Walking beside her, he "accidentally" hit her leg with his cane.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," he apologized. "I didn't ruin your stockings I hope?"

"Well, even if you did, don't worry. I won't sue you counsellor," Zoe answered with a smile in her voice. "Mr. Murdock, nice to meet you, I'm Zoe Morgan."

"The honor is mine, Ms Morgan. Though I am surprised that someone in your league would know who I am."

"Don't sell yourself short, Mr. Murdock. I could hardly belong to that league you mention and not know about the man who got Wilson Fisk behind bars and had the guts to defend the Punisher."

Matt shrugged dismissing the praise. "I only assisted the man who had the information against Mr. Fisk. As for Frank Castle, he went to prison; we usually prefer to get freedom for our clients."

"But he escaped, so he's not behind bars anymore."

Matt frowned. "You don't seem to think that it's a bad thing."

Zoe cast a look around her. "The city needs someone who is not afraid to get his hands dirty sometimes."

"We have a legal system to take care of that, Ms Morgan." Matt would never approve of the way Frank saw justice.

Zoe seemed to consider his answer. "Yes, but sometimes, it does need a little help from the sidelines. Which brings me to wonder how you knew John?"

Matt hesitated a moment. Her remark made it abundantly clear that she had known something about what John did. But did she know more than what John had told him?

"I could just as easily return the question," Matt finally countered.

"But I asked first…"

Matt bowed his head slightly in agreement. "He saved my life. Couple of times, actually."

"Yes, he did that a lot," Zoe answered with a chuckle.

A woman stopped a few feet away to talk with a member of the NYPD. Matt could feel Zoe watching her, her demeanour rapidly altering.

"Who is she?" Karen asked feeling the change in atmosphere.

"Iris Campbell, the department shrink," Zoe answered drily.

"Here to help John's fellow officers to cope with the situation?" Karen commented. "She's dedicated. I've never heard of a psychologist coming to the funeral of a detective."

"She knew John personally. He was forced to go to her sessions because of the way he acted on duty. John was more than just a patient to her."

Matt couldn't help a small smile. Zoe Morgan was considered by most people as a cold headed, cold hearted woman. Someone who would do whatever it took to reach her goal. But underneath that perfect front was a woman who was obviously jealous of John and Iris's relationship. She shouldn't have worried. Matt was pretty sure that the redhead hadn't been all that important to John. He might have gotten close to her if indeed he had been forced to talk. He would have loved to have been a fly on the wall to see those sessions. He and John had comfortable enough that they had on occasions willingly shared personal information, yet they often hit long silences. He doubted the shrink would have got much by way of conversation from John.

At any rate, he could maybe give Zoe some comfort. He bent his head toward her ear and whispered quietly so only she could hear.

"She didn't really mean anything to John. He was much closer to you."

"Excuse me?" Zoe stated straightening up.

If Matt hadn't been blind, he would have probably jumped a few feet back to escape the glare that Zoe shot him. As it was, the tension on the body was as clear as a neon light.

"Don't worry. I'm very good at keeping secrets. Call it an occupational hazard," he added with an amused smile. If being a lawyer meant keeping secrets because of your clients, being Daredevil gave a whole new meaning to the word.

Suddenly a dog barked, and Karen turned in surprise. "Who brings a dog to a funeral?"

Matt smiled and extended his hand to Zoe. "Ms Morgan, it was a pleasure meeting you. I'm really sorry for your loss," he added, taking her hand in both of his in a gesture of comfort.

Leaving a baffled Zoe behind, he walked towards Bear, and knelt down.

"Hey boy, how are you doing?" He scratched the dog's ears fondly and Bear gave him a big lick. "Poor guy, you must miss him too, right?"

"Bear didn't eat you, so I'm guessing you knew John and Bear," a man's voice commented.

Matt rose to his feet, keeping a hand on Bear's head. "You're not Harold, yet Bear seems to be okay with you."

"I certainly hope so, since I'm keeping him."

"For the moment," a woman's voice corrected him.

"Detective Lionel Fusco, from the 8th precinct," the man introduced himself.

"You were John's partner," Matt guessed.

"Yeah, the biggest pain in the ass I had to work with," Fusco grumbled. "The best detective I ever met," he added in a softer voice, his eyes misting.

Matt suddenly remembered the phone call John had made to the detective when they had fought at the boxing club. The previous day John had appeared from nowhere to tell him he was in danger. Matt hadn't believed a word of it, but when the guys had turned up at the boxing club he had had to admit that his mysterious guardian angel had been right. He almost wanted to ask Fusco how he had managed to get the guns under the boxing ring then realized that it might generate far too many questions. He would have loved to see the confusion on the detective's face though…

"Where's Finch?" Matt asked, realizing the IT genius, and John's best friend, wasn't present.

"Not here," the woman's voice informed in a dry tone. "Who are you?"

"Matt Murdock. John… saved my life… several times actually," he finally settled for.

He had no way of knowing how much these two knew about John's activities. They did seem to know about Finch though, and were taking care of Bear. John had even called the detective to clean up after they had subdued the guys paid to kill Matt. Were they part of John's "organization"? Once again, Matt realized how little he had really known about John.

He could feel the woman's eyes bore into his skull as if trying to determine how much he knew and what she could say. She seemed to decide keeping silent was the best option.

"Yeah, hobby of his…" Fusco commented. "Speak of the devil…" he added.

Matt jumped in surprise at the word. How did…? But Fusco had actually just seen somebody, who approached to greet him.

"Hello Leon," Fusco said shaking hands.

"Leon Tao?" Matt wondered. "John's friend?"

"He said I was a friend?" Pure joy exuded from the voice.

"I highly doubt that, Leon. You're the worst case John ever had to deal with," Lionel countered.

"Hey, I helped them! I…" Leon snapped his mouth shut realizing that he wasn't supposed to talk. The things John and Finch did were not to be discussed, especially around strangers. Even if said stranger knew his name.

He extended his hand to Matt. "Leon Tao."

"Matt Murdock."

"THE Matt Murdock? The lawyer?"

Matt nodded. Again he could feel the woman examining him with attention. Who was she? Why did she feel so… dangerous?

"You know I could use a good lawyer."

"This is hardly the place," Fusco interrupted.

Leon seemed to deflate. "You're right. I'm sorry." He turned to look at the hole in the ground. "I'm going to miss him," he whispered.

"You'll need to be more careful now that he won't be around to save your sorry ass," Fusco groused, but underneath the words, the sadness was all too obvious.

The group felt silent in respect. In the quiet, Matt perfectly heard the soft breath and hiss of pain. Turning his head, he heard him. Someone was hiding behind a tree a few hundred feet away. A shuffle on the ground told him all he needed about who was keeping in the shadows.

"Karen, would you wait here for me? I need to be alone for a minute?" He placed a chaste kiss on her cheek and squeezed her hand.

"You're okay?"

"I will be," he reassured her.

Leaving the group behind him, he walked in a large circle around the gravestones so as to keep his destination a secret.

Finch was hiding behind a tree, his hand resting on the trunk.

"Hello Finch," Matt said quietly.

John's friend sighed. "I should have known you would spot me."

"Why are you hiding?" Matt couldn't help but wonder.

"The reasons John died are…" Finch stopped as if not knowing where to start or what to say.

"Are you in danger too?"

Finch turned around to face Matt and winced. The smell of blood and medicine assaulted Matt's senses.

"Harold, you're hurt. You shouldn't be standing," Matt exclaimed reaching out to help the man.

"I'm fine," Finch hissed. "Better than John anyway," he added.

"God, what kind of mess did the two of you got mixed up in?"

"I believe one of the reasons you got along so well with John was that neither of you felt the need to disclose secrets that you didn't want to share."

"He always told me that I could end up dead if he told me. Except, it got him killed in the end."

"That was a given…"

"Sorry?"

"When I hired John, I specifically told him that what we would be doing would in the end kill both of us." Finch closed his eyes, clearly fighting tears. "Except he cheated and gave his life to save mine."

"Guilt is a lonely companion, Finch. Don't go down that road, there's no way out once you embark upon it."

"You would know, right?" Finch whispered.

"I never knew how you did what you did, but I'm guessing it's over now. Will you be all right?"

"Too many lives have been lost for it to ever be over," the woman's voice said.

"Ms Shaw, put that gun away. Mr Murdock is not a liability. He knows how to keep a secret, believe me."

Matt could hear the woman grunt, and feel her study him in detail, but she finally put the gun back behind her back.

"Your girlfriend is getting worried. I'll give her five more minutes before she comes looking for you." She said with a note of derision in her voice.

Finch turned to him. "Mr Murdock, I'd rather keep in the shadows…"

"Because officially you're dead…" It suddenly dawned on Matt. The real reason for the secrecy.

"As you're going to be if you don't move it soon," Shaw snarled, her hand moving to her back.

"Ms Shaw, the end of one hero is enough," Finch snapped. "Hell's Kitchen needs Daredevil."

Matt didn't need eyes to see the surprise on the woman's face. He could almost hear her brain spinning as she put together everything she had probably heard and read.

"Good thing he's dead, because I would have killed him for keeping that from me…"

Matt couldn't help a smile. "Finch, would you?"

"Yes, Mr Murdock, I will tell Ms Shaw about your encounters. Now if you please, I'd like to keep my presence here unknown."

Matt extended his hand. "Good luck to you. I'm sorry for John's death."

"Thank you." Finch shook Matt's hand and moved away.

Shaw didn't move from her spot. Matt chuckled. "I'm leaving, I'm leaving."

He went back towards the grave. Only Fusco remained, Bear sitting by his side, his head turned toward the trees, whining softly.

Karen came to him, and slipped her hand on his elbow. "Shall we go?"

"Yes."

They went down the road. Karen was parked a couple of blocks down. As they left the cemetery, Karen turned her head to him.

"Will you tell me how you knew John?" she asked almost shyly.

"Yes, I've learned the hard way that secrets are a dangerous thing to keep." He folded his cane, relying only on Karen's guidance.

"About two years ago, I was working at the office, when I heard a camera shutter repeatedly working in front of our building…"

The end

AN. Well, obviously the last story in this universe. It was a great adventure, and I loved writing about John and Matt together. Thank you for your support and comments.

Dedicated to Yellowstone69, she knows why.