hawk_shot | (Reply)

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It was frustrating, even a little scary to get the dimension of how Matt's body worked. Like when people claim that if a whole city jumps together, they can make the whole planet shake. Wonderful metaphor for working together, freaking terrifying when it all happens inside a single man's body. And this? The Fisks crafted a great plan, letting Hell's Kitchen's lights go out and crime go rampant. Using it as an excuse to let psychos go out. Sending a murderer into a hospital.

Matt Murdock, the martyr that saved the Mayor. It would be forgotten news come Monday and a giant loss that the city would never be aware of. It wouldn't be the first time Daredevil disappeared, after all.

No. Fucking no. Not under her watch.

"Okay, yeah, that's a good idea." And frankly, considering how much Kate hates high heels, a welcomed suggestion. It's a testament of how worried she was about him, how Kate simply forgot about those feet torturing devices instead of taking the first chance she had to ditch them. Losing those couple of inches emphasized how she was shorter than Matt, but she couldn't be happier to be closer to the floor. Kate held the shoes along with her clutch as her arm wrapped around his waist, Matt's own arm hooked around her neck and firmly held by his wrist.

His hesitation to simply go out proved something. He was an idiot, yes. Same idiot that had put the life of his biggest enemy before his own. The same man who's now activelly hunting him down. But Matt was not the man that had given up on this city. Someone who didn't see the point in helping others out of court anymore. It was a reckless thing, probably self-destructive, but isn't that the life they both chose?

The man who's broken heart had pushed Bullseye off a rooftop would have never saved Kingpin. Matt had barely had any time to think, but still made that choice.

Kate could practically feel that tiny knot she'd been carrying for a year, losing its tightness.

Like watching on a mouse going through a maze, Kate asked Matt to keep checking where their gunman was, checking on which corners they should take a turn to put as much distance from him as possible. They followed the same plan as the cold air of New York's evening hit them mercilessly. At least, walking together they kept each other warm, but the wind was ruthless. He surely was having a hard time in that hospital gown.

"Where to? That guy probably called on backup and it must be waiting at your place or mine by now." Shit. She needed someone to go get Lucky. "We should probably lay low for a while. Specially if we investigate the whole deal about Foggy." Matt couldn't simply go to work now, pretend that they can keep up a normal life. Neither of them could, not considering she had got a threat of her own that very afternoon. They could both put everyone at work in danger and Fisk wouldn't even hesitate about collateral damage. "What do you think? Where do we go?"