Captain America had received a message from Matt Murdock about needing to speak with him.  It was a short message with all of the emotion of a brick wall. At night in the Hall of Justice, Cap waited. Cap pages through a file at the conference desk. He read by the light of a single, gooseneck desk lamp, overhead fluorescence out. It was a quiet night.

    Cap continued to review Daredevil's file. It had been a while since he last looked at it. So many adventures. So many good works, and yet Cap could sense that Matt now took no comfort in any of it. Matt had seemed distant of late, so preoccupied.

    Cap heard the Hall's front door open. Cap noted it wasn't the skylight. Matt walked in. No costume. No smile. Just impassive red sunglasses, jeans and a black jacket.

    "Hello, Matt," Captain America said. "Would you like some coffee. I just made a pot; found where H.E.R.B.I.E. hid the coffee beans."

    "No, thank you," Matt said quickly. "Just let me get through this."

    Cap nodded, brow furrowed.

    "Cap," Matt said,  "I respect you.  That is why I waited until after the Christmas party. And why I'm telling you first."

    Cap wanted to say something, but he could tell this was hard enough for Matt as it was. He said nothing.

    Matt paced back and forth. "You are a good man, a true hero.  You are the example of how a hero should act.  I have lost the way, Cap.  I have not felt right since my imprisonment with Magneto, the death of my best friend, the destruction of everything that was my life.  I thought that by coming clean, by telling the world who Daredevil was, I could throw that monkey off of my back." He got quiet. And then, in a near whisper, almost top himself, "That there would be no more hiding."

    Matt's eyes darted back to Cap and his previous volume returned. He resumed pacing. "Well, I was wrong.  Things have only gotten worse... for me.  I don't feel like a hero anymore."

    "Matt," Cap said gently, "there are times when we all..."

    "Last night, I almost broke the legs of some petty thief," Matt interrupted. "I was angry, and this guy who was just stealing a purse almost had every bone in his body broken.  A purse, Cap!  I have become a danger to a very people of Hell's Kitchen I swore to protect." Matt sighed loudly.

    "What are you going to do?" Cap asked.

    "I need to search out my old master, Stick.  He is out there, somewhere.  I need to find The Way, again.  My purpose, my reason for serving the people.  A belief in the good of humanity.  The Christmas party was the last time any JLA member will see of me while I am on this pilgrimage.  I have signed over my dad's old gym to Saint Agnes of the Weary orphanage in Hell's Kitchen."

    Cap stood up and walked over to Matt. "I understand. But if you ever need anything, we are here." He offered his hand. Matt shook it. "Good luck, Matt."

    Matt looked away. "I have always believed that God has had a purpose for the accident that took my sight, but gave me a far greater sight.  I used to think I knew what that purpose was..."

    "I have no doubt that you will find it again."

    "Good-bye, Captain," Matt said softly and then he left.

    Captain America walked back to the conference table. He closed the file of Matt Murdock and turned out the light, leaving him in darkness.

    Elektra broke the silence. "Are you going to miss it?"

    Matt signed. "Yes and no.  I was born there, grew up there.  My whole life has been about this city."

    He extended his senses. The smells of oil and gas and coal, mixed with the sharp scent of of the salted peanuts and hot dogs from the vendors. He heard angry yells and loving laughs. Could still feel  the subway, like the pulse of the city, ever throbbing.

    And sirens. He heard the sirens. As he always did. This, more than anything else, called him home. Made him want to run the rooftops once more.

    The starting of the car was like a clash of thunder, breaking Matt's concentration on the city before him.

    "I will return, my city, someday."

    Matt turned and entered the car. Elektra smelled of jasmine with just a hint of avocado. He felt the warmth sigh of her breath, heard the muscles in her face contract. A smile. He traced it with his mind.

    Gently falling snow covered Matt's footprints as the car drove out sight. He listened to every flake as it landed.