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on 2025-04-18 10:53 am (UTC)"... yeah. I'm sure Peter's already out there, just another night like always." It was compulsive, this drive to help because they could. That inability to stop. Matt has done it for longer than any of his friends who wear masks. One year of having walked away. It still didn't stick. He knows that Kate is just like them. She doesn't know when to stay down or tap out. He admired that about her, while at the same time being worried for her.
There was a small half-smile, a tired sigh at her words. Air that blew out of lungs that might not have kept breathing. How many times by now had he nearly died? One less time than Fisk wanted. His fingers uncurled to brush back the hair from her forehead. In a quiet voice he said, "I know. I'm sorry. It felt like the right thing to do, though." A beat, then even quieter he added, "Besides, if I hesitated, it might have been you throwing yourself in front of a bullet." He'd always rather take the hit than someone else.
Especially her.