hawk_shot | (Reply)

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Matt removed his helmet not because it would help him see better, but it was more comfortable as he set himself to this task. His brow furrowed, gaze falling far short of Kate's even though his head was inclined in her direction. Nimble fingers worked at her wound, cleaning it. He'd done this so many times over the years, first for his father, and then for himself. For friends too, every now and then. Some who were still alive, and some who weren't. If his actions tonight cost anyone else their lives, he'd never forgive himself. If Kate's wound permitted gluing he'd do that, otherwise, he would thread it. "If I can glue it, I will. If I can't, I promise, I'll be quick. I've had a lot of practice stitching."

Lucky sat right at Kate's side, his head on her lap, the devoted second half of her soul that wouldn't part. It was the sweetest thing, and made Matt love Lucky all the more for how he loved Kate.

Pulling out a medicine bottle whose label he covered with his palm before pocketing, Frank dry swallowed some pills and grunted, "Sounds like you got plenty of eyes, Ace." Ace reporter, a nickname he'd never let fully go off, but one that had developed over the years independent of Matt. Frank liked his nicknames. "Besides, I got shit to do." That task force? That was his problem.

"Fisk will be coming after you too now," Matt pointed out.

"Yeah, well, let him come. I'll put a bullet in his big, fat head," Frank retorted, the usual aggression between him and Matt present. When he looked back at Karen though he sighed. "Look, they're wearing my symbol. They don't get to do that. If I thin the ranks, take out those on top? It'll buy you all some time before they can rebuild. I got this, Karen. I'll handle the task force, then I'm going after Bullseye. After all, that's why you called me in the first place, isn't it?"

Silence.

Matt stilled while stitching Kate. He knew Frank was speaking the truth. Karen had heard the news, heard the psychotic assassin was on the loose, and called in the one assassin who might go toe to toe with him. To protect Matt, sure. Maybe. Was that it, though? Or was Karen calling Frank to handle a problem that she knew Matt wouldn't?

"I mean, to help Red with him," Frank tried to cover. "Best way to keep Bullseye off all your backs is to have him on mine. And trust me, Karen. Karen? Trust me. That asshole won't know what target hit him. I'll keep him occupied while you figure shit out." That was what Frank did. He wasn't the hero. Not even in the Army. He was Black Ops. He worked quietly, in the shadows. He eliminated so that others could rebuild. He stifled, so that others could fit through. "You go do your hero shit. Leave the dirty work to me."

Bluster. Bravo at the end. He wanted her to understand, but he also needed them gone so that he could protect them how he knew best.