(Almost) Murder in the dance floor (for streetlevel )

[hawk_shot]

With her thumb, Kate tried to get it out. She dug, finger by finger, under the rim of each one of her nails as she tried to dig out those mucky red lines that had once been Matt's blood. Her hands were still shaking.

Looking back, she should have known. Deep down she knew, Matt and Kate had spent the day warning each other not to do anything stupid at the Black and White Ball the Fisks had hosted, inviting anyone influential at the city of New York. And not so very smoothly, Matt as his girlfriend's plus one. It was a recipe for disaster and they both pretended to have it all under control.

Things started well, even if by this point the water was starting to boil. Kate's gown flowed as she made her way through the crowd, always clocking Matt, Fisk and the task force around them. She had eventually spotted Jack too who, still warmed her heart with how graciously she treated her despite of how her mother had framed him for her crimes. It's shocking how you can misjudge a person sometimes.

But, before Jack could warn her about his conversation with Fisk, the Mayor had sent one of his people asking Kate to join him in a private room for a chat. Kate could feel Matt's presence on her back as the door closed behind her. She knew his ears were in the room with them too as Fisk, as charming as a murderer can be, reminded her of their first encounter. The fight during Christmas Eve. He made it clear that he knew about Kate's gig now as a vigilante. The demand for a monetary contribution from Bishop Security's behalf had not been all that subtle. A tax to keep his rabid guard dogs off her neck.

By the time Kate walked out of the room, her hands shook with frustration. She should have heard the water boiling by then.

It had all happened too quickly then. The dance, the gunshot, Fisk pushing Matt off himself as if he was trash. Her friend being down on the floor, red blossoming on his white shirt like a deadly rose. While Heather called for help Kate had placed both her hands on the wound while the ambulance came over, blood staining the silks of her dress. His blood giving her red gloves, blood still clinging to the rim of her nails no matter how many times she washed her hands at the hospital.

It was strange and tense and horrible, waiting. Matt might be stable now, but Kate and Heather barely broke the silence in the room until Kirsten showed up.

Comments

TY for starting!

[streetlevel]

The world swam. Sounds, not sights, registered first. Murky as though underwater. They made his head pound. Scents came next, horrible scents of death and decay, of sterilization that couldn't hide the bodies wasting away. Matt hated hospitals. He'd hated them ever since he was a child. That mix of fear and revulsion had never truly gone away, but he was too drugged to feel the full weight of that anxiety. The past mixed with the present in his haze.

Dancing with two women. No, three. That slow spin with Vanessa, where she danced on a knife's edge that neither of them was certain he wouldn't aim towards her. Foggy. He still hadn't gotten the full truth out of her, but Matt knew she was lying. There was something infinitely frustrating about knowing things that people wouldn't admit. To hearing Fisk threaten the people around him, peeling back the thin veneer of civility because it was inconvenient. That white suit housed a monster who would not change, not because he couldn't, but because deep down he didn't want to.

That was where they differed. Matt, too, had gotten his hands dirty when he'd shoved Dexter off that roof. Making the split second choice now to save Fisk's life at risk of his own was in no small part to not be that person again. Whether he wore a lawyer's suit or the Daredevil mask, Matt didn't want to house a monster. He wanted to be a better man. He wanted to win, but not on the terms the Fisks had set.

There was someone with him. Someones? It was so hard to tell with the drugs. His senses came in waves, sometimes faded and far away for him, sometimes so blistering that he felt he was going insane. He couldn't regulate himself and his powers like he usually did, but he was too groggy to do anything about it.

So he said the first name that came to mind as he fought his way back to the world.

"Kate?"

My pleasure 💜

[hawk_shot]

She wondered what it must be like to find comfort in praying, like Matt surely did on this type of situations. As she rubbed at her knuckles, Kate wondered if she should silently give that a go. It felt strange, out of place for her, like singing to a song you don't really know the lyrics to.

Hunched as she was on her seat, she looked up sharply, the attention of all three women in the room captured as Matt coughed, clearly coming back to his senses. Heather approached his bed and, Kate later would be thankful by how she had not seen the look in her face the moment Matt called another woman's name. Her name.

It was like being showered with a bucked of ice cold water.

Their eyes met briefly as Heather turned to give her and Kirsten a look. Kate noticed the confusion, the hurt, the silent questions. But Kirsten was like an angel in that room, quickly reminding Matt's girlfriend that this was surely the drugs speaking.

Kate felt as if she had commited some crime, glad that Matt had now called for Heather and his girlfriend was looking after him, giving him some water. Kirsten shot her a curious glance and rubbed her back, encouraging Kate too to get up and approach the bed with her.

[streetlevel]

He'd come to rely on his senses. They were the trade off for losing his sight, his special way of interacting with the world now. To have them dampened made Matt antsy, and he groggily shifted in his bed as he asked after the well being of Heather and Kate. Once he was assured they were both fine he sipped some water, realizing the creaky sound being made was coming from his own voice. His tongue felt too big for his mouth, the rest having a cotton-like sensation. He swallowed hard as he asked, "Fisk?"

Heather paused a moment, trying her personal and professional best to understand the man that lay in front of her as she answered him. "You saved his life."

"Yeah. I heard someone scream gun and I just reacted." Again with a half-truth, which meant that it was partly a lie. Matt had heard that metal click before anyone screamed. It had given him the edge to respond before anyone else. Otherwise Kate might have leaped in front first, and Matt didn't want to think about that possibility. His head turned a little, but it was in the direction of Kate who approached the bed. "Poindexter? Jack?"

"Bullseye is still at large." Another voice answered part of his question. Kirsten's. Matt was so drugged he hadn't even registered her fully in the room until she helped him cover for saying Kate's name. Hearing that the shooter was still alive and well, and active, Matt ripped out the tube from his nose and struggled to sit upright.

"He... Vanessa Fisk ordered the hit on Foggy." Matt's voice was weak but determined, that stubborn streak not willing to budge on this. He could feel the frustration from some in the room but he stood firm. He licked dry, cracked lips and persevered. "Kirsten, listen, the case Foggy was working on, can you get me access to it from-" A groan overtook him as he sat up too fast, pulling at stitches.

[hawk_shot]

It felt almost safe, stepping in behind Kirsten. "Jack is fine. Everything - It was all a little chaotic, but nobody else got seriously hurt as they were evacuated."

The screams. It was all too loud, waves of terrorized people swarming towards every exit. And then there was Heather and Kate, down on the floor, helpless as they begged for time to stop and wait for Matt, to give him a chance.

"Hey." It was soft, almost shy, the way Kate called him out as Matt tried to sit upright while his body was still clearly protesting. But Matt continued with the little strenght he had, as always. No matter how beaten, he always keeps going. There was something far more urgent, the need to share what we knew and get more answers. Finally, he dropped it: Matt finally knew who ordered the hit on Foggy.

It squeezed at Kate's heart painfully. Something they had waited for too long almost revived the feelings of that night, of the call. Foggy's body felt cold again and all because of that one woman. "Why? How did you--?" Kate's voice grew louder, more confident, not caring about the consequences of anything of what had happened in that room the last few minutes.

"Matt!" Calm as collected as Kirsten normally was, there was an gravity in her voice as she placed her hands on his chest, trying to still him. Kate was drawn out of her pain as she noticed how he had messed his stitches. "I'm getting a nurse," Kate announced and without hesitation, almost leaped out of the room.

The hallways felt oddly empty even though she knew how busy the place was. Rushing thorugh every step, by the time she found a nurse on her way to her station and she guided her back to the room, the conversation had shifted into a whispered argument.

"... They were celebrating an early win, but I think it was just bluster," Kirsten tried to explain to Matt. Kate wished she could ask for context, if this could somehow clarify what Matt had fount ouf about Vanessa Fisk.

"You realize they were the ones getting shot at?" It was exasperated, the tone in which Heather seemed to be trying to bring back Matt to her reality.

Luckilly for Matt, the nurse shushed him and granted him escape from that rhetorical question. Instead, she called him out for having tried to sit up as so soon and undid his gown to explore the freshly open wound. Calling on backup for her colleagues to bring up supplies, he was soon being patched up.

The silence in the room was only interrupted by Heather's frustrated sighs. Could anyone blame her? Kate herself wanted to smack Matt for having risked his life for Fisk, of all people. Kirsten rubbed her shoulders and, almost as if she was being naughty by interuptig the silence, she asked in whispers if Kate needed to call someone. If she needed a ride later. Kate thanked her as the nurses finally chastised Matt one last time and left the room.

Heather lingered by his side, but seemed reluctant to touch him. Did anyone in there not feel the temptation to strangle the man? "I think it's better I come back once you've had some rest," she stated, leaning in for a cold kiss to his cheek. "We all should," she added as she avoided looks and gathered her things. With her gaze down and a firm step, Kate watched her march out of the room.

[streetlevel]

"Fisk is dangerous, Heather. More than you know. I'm sorry you don't believe me, but it's the truth." Matt didn't need perfect senses to detect the frustration in the room directed at him. He felt frustrated in turn that he wasn't able to effectively convince the women around him that he wasn't going crazy, that it wasn't just revenge blinding him. He started to stop Heather then just let her go, tiredly easing back against the cushions. What would be the good even if she did believe him? It wasn't like she was going to approve on what he planned to do about it. It wasn't like she was willing to see Daredevil as an ally rather than a public enemy.

He quietly thanked the nurse who stitched him up again and closed his eyes, feeling the room spinning. A motion to dismiss. Why had Foggy been bent on filing one? His attention was only half on Kirsten as she reiterated that she was glad he was all right, but that they needed to have a serious conversation later. He could hear the gravity in her voice as she took her leave.

One heartbeat left. Matt's head was still tilted towards where the two other women had stood, each turning their back and leaving once having their final say.

One heartbeat left.

"I suppose you think I'm insane and dangerous, too."

[hawk_shot]

It pained her, watching Matt giving up. Kate wondered if he felt betrayed, even if he sure sounds insane to anyone who isn't aware of everything that Fisk was doing or is capable of. It's the kinda nightmare you read in books or see in movies, isn't it? The world thinking you're insane, leaving you alone. Ophelia with a mask, stubble and a gunshot instead of a deadly dive. So very chic urban, huh?

"No, I think you're stupid."

Kate might be mad at him, but she is aware that she's not carrying the same frustration Matt's girlfriend does. Or even why Kirsten isn't willing to listen. So many things went wrong tonight.

She still reaches for his hand and takes it between hers, aware that now more than ever Matt needs a friend.

"I can't believe you took a bullet for him. For once Bullseye could have made all of our lives so much easier." But then, that's a lie.

Taking a deep breath, Kate lets out a stuttery sigh.

"Fisk's wife killed Foggy?"

[streetlevel]

Her blunt comment about his stupidity startled Matt out of his defensive self-wallowing. His brow furrowed as he prepared for another fight, but Kate taking his hand eased a little of the building tension within him. It was as though it was a gesture to indicate she wasn't about to turn on her heel and flee from him. Stick had always warned him that people would turn away from him because of his powers, but the old mentor never mentioned all the other ways Matt might lose his family and friends. Over the years he'd found out in quick succession. It genuinely surprised him more when people didn't leave from his life, and he knew he could be self-sabotaging in furthering that process along.

He made a small sound, not quite a mirthless laugh, at the statement that Bullseye could have made their lives easier if Matt had just let Fisk die. It wasn't completely wrong. Fisk being alive meant people were in danger and likely to get hurt. To die. Was Matt just protecting his own soul at the risk of so many others by saving the man who was a monster?

"There wasn't much thinking going on in that moment. I just reacted." An instinct to push one man off a roof, an instinct to take a bullet for another. Matt couldn't entirely figure himself out, either. He was just tired of death being the answer even to a question he'd been having.

"I believe Vanessa sent Bullseye after Foggy, yes. Foggy wouldn't have been having that drink if he didn't think he had a rock solid case, that he'd already won. He was too superstitious for that. I need to get my hands on those old files. There was something in them that Vanessa was willing to shut down at any cost." He started struggling to sit up again only to have a dizzy spell so hard he fell back against the pillows.

[hawk_shot]

Kate didn't need special superhuman powers, echolocation or whatever tag might be close to making justice to Matt's abilities. No, his pain is easy to see. She knows he surely doesn't hold any grudges towards Heather or Kirsten over how they walked away. He's enough of a good guy to know when to put himself in other people's perspective. To understand how insane this all sounds.

Pissed off as she might be with him right now, why would she leave his side when she just had the scare of her life about losing him? About losing another friend to a gunshot. Another friend being stolen away.

"Yeah, the not thinking much part I already guessed." And yet, Kate's tone shifts into something softer, her thumbs stroking Matt's knuckles. There's time to call him out for this bullshit, but as new as Kate is on the job, she knows that time is something they don't exactly have. Specially if Matt has outted himself to Vanessa Fisk, letting her know that he knows.

"Okay, so what's the next step? Do you want me to go after Kirsten and insist on her getting..." She shrugs. "Whatever file or thing you want from her? Do you want me to talk to Cherry? I-- Matt!" Again, he was trying to get up. Kate grabbed him by the bicep, trying to hold him in place. "Hey. Hey, stop this. I know you think you're Superblind, but you need to take a fucking minute now."

[streetlevel]

A part of Matt, because he wasn't perfect, was feeling resentful and frustrated with Heather and Kirsten. While he knew that his claims might sound outlandish to strangers, he'd hoped that those closer to him would trust him. He's frustrated that his relationships with the two women have become so strained that they can't take that leap of faith with him. He's upset that he knows he was partly to cause for that dynamic to decay. He's bothered that even despite his faults and what he's done, they won't listen. There were a lot of conflicting feelings and emotions right now inside of him that combined with the drugs and pain made rational thinking even harder. He wasn't about to condemn Heather and Kirsten, but he's absolutely a little mad at them along with himself.

At least they're alive right now for him to be mad at. They won't be for long if Fisk keeps getting ahead.

He let out a frustrated grunt but he didn't try to move again, at least not yet, from the pillows as Kate pressed him back down onto them. "We don't have a minute." Even he could tell how dramatic he sounded, and his defiant expression faded to one of tired yet grudging acknowledgement. He needed a few more minutes before he could get up. Just a few. "Yeah. Maybe call Cherry. Tell him to be careful, though. ... I wonder what the news is saying. I can't hear it from the other rooms yet." Surely televisions were on elsewhere, but Matt was too groggy still to pick things out just yet. "I need to tell the nurse to cut my painkillers." He'd rather have a clearer head and be in pain than having his senses scrambled.

[hawk_shot]

Matt couldn't wait. The people they love and care about, the city itself needs them to keep going. It's a tough lesson, one that reminds her why Clint wanted her to keep away from this lifestyle, back when being a superhero meant nothing but going out each night, doing a good deed and coming back home with a happy conscience.

Now, Kate is starting to understand how different things are. How this never stops, doesn't let you sleep, doesn't even allow you to accept a moment to rest even though you really need it.

She shifts, moving to sit on his bed, against his hip, as her hand stays lightly over his torso. A silent request for him to try and stop. At the same time, her thumb keeps stoking those knuckles of his, the ones she's used to seeing bloody and sore.

"I'll call Cherry, okay? I'll talk to Pete, too. Hell, he probably heard all about this on the news already." The news had been vague when Kate allowed herself a minute to check them, every channel, every piece of social media a copy paste version of the same statements, she explained. By now, however, she wouldn't be surprised if things changed. "I know you have a hard time delegating tasks, but we are a team, remember?"

But Kate herself needs that minute.

Holding his hand with both of hers again, she slowly held them up until the back of his fingers touching her forehead. Almost as if she was praying.

"You scared me shitless, Matt."

[streetlevel]

He felt the mattress sag a little as Kate settled her weight onto it. Her body felt warm against his hip and upper thigh through the blanket laid over him. It was a welcome addition. He wasn't freezing, but hospitals were always cold even with the blankets. Her hand was warm, too. The rubbing against his knuckles is soothing, and for a brief moment he turns his hand enough so that he could give hers a slight squeeze in return. The hand on his chest felt like it was practically against his skin through the thin hospital gown. He could feel the beating of his own heart vibrating back against her palm. Concentrating, he could feel her pulse as well, moving slightly at a different cadence than his.

"... 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.

[hawk_shot]

This last year has felt surreal. After what happened to Foggy, it was as if hope was drained out of their lives. Kate had continued going out there, expecting that a world that proved to be so unjust would only encourage Daredevil to hit back even harder. Hoping that fighting crime would bring a little more sense to how the world had disappointed her.

But Matt was nowhere to be seen. The job became what it had once been, something that Kate did alone, feeling a little lost despite of how much she'd learned by Clint's and Matt's side. Feeling like a child that needs guidance. Excelling at sports is always so much easier when you have a coach.

She felt drained herself and started taking some nights off. Nights of something close to good sleep. Sometimes just bingewatching things and cuddling her dog. Fighting to get out of bed in the mornings and finding herself able to do so around noon.

It's not a luxury you can have, being depressed over the death of a friend and the loss of another one while keeping up with a vigilante's lifestyle. Kate started pushing the pain aside, little by little got back into her own rythm. Things got so much easier when she and Matt reconnected. Even though Wilson Fisk was making their life a living hell.

"You think I'd take a bullet for Fisk?" Even though she huffs out a quiet, humorless laugh, she leaves it at that and doesn't argue. Kate second-guesses herself, wishing she could be the person Matt sees with his heart and not who she feels she really is.

It's hard not to be aware of her heartbeat, of how unfair it is that he can see through people by hearing that. Can she still it? Can she quiet it down? Perhaps she should try meditation like he's suggested. It's hard to think straight or focus on taking full control of her body when she's so focused on the realization that she's never felt his fingers on her face before.

It's selfish, the way she moves his hand down until his fingers are on his cheek.

"I'm never dancing with you again if this is how you plan to end the night."

[streetlevel]

"I thought there was enough of a chance that you would that I wasn't about to risk it." Matt did believe in Kate's heart. He did think that push come to shove, she wouldn't let even her worst enemy die. Leaping in front of Fisk hadn't just been to prevent Kate from doing it, that was just one of several reasons, but it was part of his split-second decision making. He would always rather take a hit than risk someone he cared about deeply. He wouldn't always make choices that weren't bloody, and violent, and dark. He knew that about himself. He wanted to think though that there was still some light in him too, though.

Maybe there had to be, if someone like Kate wanted to stick around.

A soft laugh escaped him at her mentioning the dancing. She had tread a little on his toes, but he didn't mind. "You weren't that bad. You made me think you couldn't manage anything without a limbo stick with how you were talking."

Matt's unfurled fingers hovered on her cheek, lightly touching, a silent request for permission. She didn't pull him away. He let his fingertips, with a touch so sensitive that it could trace pencil lines on a paper and commit a picture to memory, glide over her features. He felt her forehead and cheekbones, noted the tip of her nose and chin. Felt over her eyelids.

He saw her, in the way that made sense to him.

There was a small smile on his face, a sense of peace in the bubble of a gathering storm. His voice was ragged, but in a way that mimicked worn leather. Bendable but not easily broken. "So that's what you look like. Hi you."

[hawk_shot]

She didn't argue with Matt, not when she resented Fisk so much about having almost taken him again simply over the fact of how both men tend to gravitate around each other. Would she have taken a bullet for him? She would have taken a bullet for Matt for sure. But she doesn't dare to say that outloud. Would he cut her out of his life if that meant protecting her? They're all make believe scenarios in her head right now, 'what ifs' that add worry and pain in a moment when they have plenty of that.

Instead, she's glad they're joking again. That they can take a moment to think of the tiny sparks of light in such a dark day. "Oh, so you were just pushing for that dance because you wanted to publically humilliate me?" She was delighted by how much easier that laugh had come out of him now. Still tired, but genuine on the way that those creases around his eyes show up.

She really adores those creases.

It had been a sweet dance. She had been clumsy and having to lead added pressure, but to Kate's own surprise his soft words had encouraged her to relax and let go. To go with the flow.

She is allowing herself to go with the flow now, too. Closing her own eyes to try and see what he sees, as Matt's fingertips start tracing her face for the first time. It's something intimate, but not something that feels wrong. In her heart, she knows they've earned this. Kate wants him to have it and Matt seems happy to take it.

"Hey," she breaths out in barely a whisper, the cheek leaning properly into his palm. Surely he will feel it, ther corner of her lips as her smile grows wider, how it pulls on that cheek.

And just like that, the power is gone.

[streetlevel]

It was something Matt would never forget.

It only lasted a moment.

He could feel that change in Kate's heart, just as his own was pounding in his chest. Matt licked his lips, his brow creased in that knitted way that it did when he was intently focusing on something. On Kate. He knew her smell, and he let it wash through him to wipe away some of the hospital scents that were making him nauseous. He felt her soft edges and contours of her face that eased a little of the brittleness he felt inside. It was peaceful. For a moment.

Matt couldn't tell that the lights went out, but he could hear how all the machines stopped. How the steady cadence of the generators even didn't work, and instead, the hospital was filled with screams and chaos. The city outside shouted, alive in a new and panicked way. Matt's eyes widened in mirroring as the sounds overwhelmed his drugged body. "I can't - Kate, I can't -" His back arched painfully off the bed and he grasped at her in terror as he fought to control senses that his exhausted, spent, addled body couldn't handle. "There's so much noise, I can't..."

Click.

He knew that sound. Not where it was from, but he knew it.

Matt had managed to struggle into a sitting position without realizing it, clinging to Kate's shoulders in a tight grip. The look of agony and terror on his face became more focused and controlled because through the chaos Matt had been trained no matter what to pick up on those danger signals. Guns. Fire. Grenades. The city was erupting in chaos. There was a gun somewhere. Close. Here? Fuck, he couldn't pick it exactly. Someone in the hospital was walking with a weapon but Matt couldn't place where precisely.

"Kate, someone's here. Someone's coming. We have to get out." This couldn't be a coincidence. If the city was shut down, Matt knew the two who were likely at the top of Fisk's hit list. "If they find an empty room, they'll abort. Maybe." Hopefully.

[hawk_shot]

"Shit."

It was a shock, drawing Kate right out of the moment but only with the mild surprise of someone who goes through a daily inconvenience. "The power went out," she comments to the total darkness in the room, vaguelly noticing the distant sounds that raised in the building. Honestly, the silence that followed was more impressing after you got used to the sound of the machines attached to Matt.

But it's him who truly shocks her. She notices how suddenly his breathing becomes agitated, his hands reaching for her in a different way, clawing at the silks of her dress before he found a proper hold.

"Matt? Are you --?" What's wrong with him?

There's so much noise.

"Calm down. It's probably the drugs, right?"

It's probably what started that little moment they just shared. Had she abused his trust in that moment of weakness? Would Matt in his full sense allow Kate to cross that line when he has a girlfriend that, despite of everything that is going on, he loves and respects?

Now, she is the one that is blind, her hands using his arms as guides until she is the one able to touch his face. Her palms cover his ears clumsily, unsure if that could bring any help at all at quieting down a world so overwhelming. She can only hope it'll help him focus for a moment. "Matt, try to breath, okay? This will last nothing, hospitals have their own power generators. Take a breath and I'll talk to the nurse about lowering the drugs, okay? I'm here with you. I'm--"

He was still panicking, his tighter grip on her shoulders making Kate wince. But experience had taught her to never take his words lightly.

"Are you --? But why would they put a hit on you? You saved his life, shouldn't he..?" It's Fisk they're talking about. And Matt had outted himself to his wife, letting her know that he knew.

Vanessa Fisk had indeed got Foggy dead then. Matt's lead had to be right.

Easing his hands off her shoulders, the sleeves of her dress got a little tangled on him as Kate slid off his bed. "I love this dress, but fuck I should have chosen something more practical." With a tug to the bracelets they were attached to, the silks now fell to her sides, his dry blood now brown marks that interrupted the watery green of the fabric like one of those stories in his Bible, where blood interrupts the clear water of a calm river.

"Okay, let me get my shit, you put on your shoes, I'm getting you out of here." She could call an Uber, Cherry, Pete, anyone for help. But she needed her phone at the very least.

And she needed to check if Matt could walk.

"Take off the tubes and everything you have attached to you, I can't see anything right now." And so she stumbled in the direction of the chairs, aware of where she'd find her clutch. "You're gonna have to be my eyes now. For a change."

[streetlevel]

"It's not the drugs. The city - the power's out in the entire city." He could hear the shouts about it, he could already hear the police sirens and clamoring and windows breaking. Panic and opportunity to capitalize on it wasting no time.

There was a snort and wry look at her starting down the trail of Fisk feeling like he owed Matt anything. That wasn't how the Kingpin operated, certainly not when his wife was at risk. Nothing mattered more to Fisk than Vanessa - except perhaps his own well-being. Unfortunately, Fisk's well-being easily aligned with his wife's, the two doing a dark tango of crime together.

Matt pulled out the tubes and got to his feet, immediately wobbling and reaching out for the bed or Kate to hold him steady. "SHIT. Fuck shit. Okay. Okay. I'll steer us, you keep us upright." He couldn't possibly focus to maneuver them and move on his own - or perhaps he could if he really pushed himself, but Kate helping was much easier. He also knew she wouldn't leave him. Working together they could get one another to safety faster. "And I can't believe I'm saying this, but ditch your heels and go barefoot if that makes moving easier." So gross to walk through New York barefoot, but better than being slow in heels. He wouldn't put it past Kate to be able to run in heels, though. He'd leave it up to her.

He managed to get his shoes on, didn't bother with his clothing. "Wait. Kate. We have to get the person next to us out. They-" Were way too sick to move. They stood a better chance in a chaotic, unpowered hospital than on the streets with two known vigilantes. Matt's heart broke so hard that he couldn't save everyone in this hospital. That he wasn't the answer to everyone's problem.

Then he heard an orderly rushing in next door, heard them say in a slightly scared but firm tone what needed to happen to other workers.

Experts were here. He should let them work.

He was not always the answer.

He shook his head. He smiled.

It was a frightening smile in the dark. A vengeful, satisfied smile. The workers would keep people alive. The devil would get the due of those who didn't survive. Not with death, but with justice.

"They're in better hands than ours. Let's do what we do best." He had to trust the city now. Now more than ever.

He moved with wobbling certainty towards her. He let her carry his weight as he guided them. He wanted so badly to fight the man who was carrying the gun, but he turned them in the other direction. He wove them in and out of the crowd, into a city as black as night.

The day would come.

It was all the same as him. It was time to get to work.

[hawk_shot]

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?"

[streetlevel]

"I'm going back to my apartment. I have to pick up a few things." His suit. His clubs. Any evidence if the task force had already gone through there. "I'll be able to hear if they're there or not. If they are, then I'll deal with them. If not, I'm getting my stuff." Either way, he was getting his stuff. He was not going to let Fisk make him cower like a rat, and in order to take action, he needed to be in something other than a hospital gown.

Maybe more than ever right now, he needed to be in his Daredevil suit. The city needed to see that, lest they all fall prey to the lies Fisk was telling.

Whether or not he returned to work he didn't yet know. Once the city's power came back on, to have the task force barging into companies and killing everyone just to get to him wouldn't be a good look even for Fisk. No, they were just being brazen right now as the city was in chaos. Once some order resumed, even if it was an ugly sense of order, he might very well be able to return to work. With a target on his back, of course, with Fisk fighting every case he took, but what else was new and people would need a lawyer more than ever. First though before he resumed that part of his life, he had to properly return to the other. Nobody was going to work right now though with the city in darkness. Nobody doing anything legal, at least.

He wasn't about to do anything legal.

Almost as if reading her mind, knowing who else mattered to Kate, he said, "I'll call Cherry and send him over to Riker's. To keep an eye on things there with your mom. Why don't you call Peter to see if he can watch Lucky?" That about covered it. Matt's few remaining friends in the city, Jessica, Luke, and Danny, they could take care of themselves until Matt found a time to connect with them. He hoped.

He started to trudge his way through the city as he called Cherry, the cold and the chaos both battering at him. His expression didn't alter. There was a pained but focused look on his face, one step in front of the other. He stopped Kate a few times as he listened, then proceeded. Once outside his building he confirmed, "I don't hear anything outside people cowering." Slowly he made his way inside, one hand wrapped around his waist, his step getting heavier.

As they went up the stairs he did, in fact, hear something familiar.

Someone familiar.

Matt sighed in resigned exasperation as he let them into his apartment, shaking his head. A wry smile came to his face as he limped in, letting himself collapse for just a moment on the sofa. "You're pretty much the last person I expected to find here."

Frank Castle, the Punisher, newly shaven and with new aftershave, "You know you're a wall-to-wall asshole?" Seeing Kate, Frank raised an eyebrow but gave a slight nod. "Ma'am. You know this guy's insane, right? And that's rich coming from me. Power goes out and he doesn't even have anything to make a goddamn pot of coffee."

[OOC: I could not resist the great introduction of Frank, LOL.]

[hawk_shot]

Even though she didn't have to like Matt's logic, going to his place was a no-brainer. They both needed their gear, Matt at the very least needed something to cover his naked ass. And after the threat and last minute move to his place for shelter, Kate's own equipment was there. Well, the basics. She had plannead ahead and aside from bringing a bag of clothes, she'd brought her bow and a good bag full of arrows, some of them even the trick ones.

Surely, at the mention of her mom, Matt easily felt the way some tension eased off her body. He wasn't wrong. That very afternoon his visit at Riker's had eased some worries she'd been carrying for months, but the situation could change at any given time. Eleanor's safety wasn't written in stone. Kate thanked him, before getting an Uber as she realized just how much the walk was taking a toll on Matt.

The city was chaos and without the traffic lights for a moment she'd wondered if they'd make it alive to his place. Her feet were still grateful for the choice.

Noticing a few cops around his block was a bad sign, but Matt assured her that the way into his building was clear. He could have warned her that once up, the Punisher himself was waiting for them.

Kate isn't a fangirl, she isn't even big on his methods. But she had heard enough from both Matt and Karen to feel like she knows Frank Castle personally. She is well aware that, intimidating as he is, he is also a very good man.

Sue her, she can't stop beaming! "Crazy and kind of an idiot, but his friends, we still love him." Lucky, already at her feet, comes to eagerly demand pets. But in his excitement he quickly moves on, hopping onto the couch to cover Matt's face with kisses. "I'm Kate. And it's so, so good to meet you, Frank."

He is the exact kind of backup they need right now.

"There's Thai leftovers in the fridge if you want some?" Less than a few hours crashing at Matt's place and Kate is already acting like she owns the place. Boundaries. Spoiled rich kids never learn about those.

Turning to face Matt again, she waves a hand at herself, knowing that he won't miss the gesture. "I need to get out of this thing," she mentions as she unceremoniously throws her shoes at a corner of his apartment. "Can I get changed in your bedroom?"

[ooc: That is a perfect, PERFECT introduction and I'm living for it.]

[streetlevel]

Frank gave a small snort at Kate's brazenness in offering food from Matt's fridge. "Seems you already know my name. Thanks for the tip, kid. I like her, Red. Maybe if you had more smart people around you wouldn't be in the fuck-infested mess you are now." He made his way to the refrigerator, opened it up, and started eating the Thai takeout cold and right from the carton. He returned the favor, gesturing towards Matt's bedroom. "Yeah, why don't you go get changed?"

"So glad you both have let me stay in my own apartment," Matt said dryly at their antics. "And yeah, who could have predicted the cops would be running around killing people with my face tattooed on their necks - oh wait, that's right, that's you." Matt clung to Lucky's fur, smiling a little at the dog's loving welcome. "Okay, okay, it's okay, pal. I missed you, too." The dog's presence was warm and welcoming, a balm on Matt's bruised soul.

Frank came over to stand near Matt, eating his leftovers. "So is that your new costume? Might need a stripper name to go with it with your bare ass hanging out. What's your first pet's name and the street you grew up on?"

"Aw, are you flirting? I'm gonna start to think that aftershave and a haircut are all for me." Matt wincingly sat up on the sofa. His tone was tart and a touch bitter. "I thought this wasn't your fight, Frank."

"Yeah, well, someone made me change my mind."

They both knew who that was. There was only one person who could do that.

Frank tossed the carton onto the ground. Lucky jumped off to lick up the remains. A helicopter was heard flying nearby. "Made a promise I'd get you out of here alive. There's a van of shitbags heading this way, won't be long. You clock that?"

"Yeah." Matt slowly, achingly, got to his feet.

Frank nodded at the bedroom door. "This kid can hold their own? It's gonna get ugly, Red."

"I'm gonna remind you that you asked after she saves your ass."

"All right, then." Frank sniffed, reaching out to pet the dog and moving to stand just beside the window. "They come up here I ain't pulling my shots with these fanboys, you get what I'm saying?"

"Not sure I want that kind of help, Frank."

"Yeah, well, that's the kind of help you got." Frank paused. "Why'd you take a bullet for that asshole?"

Matt blew out a breath and shook his head. "That's a good question." He wasn't sure he had a good answer.

"Shit." Frank pulled out his gun and called out, "You ready, kid? Bare ass here needs to get off his and cover it." He smirked as Matt flipped him the finger while walking away.

[hawk_shot]

Kate had bantered plenty of times with Matt, but missed the times when Foggy and Karen were there to team up at messing with him. Alliances changed quickly, but it was all in good fun. As what was left of her designer dress came off, completely ruined and probably having no chances of being saved, she listened carefully to the conversation going on at the other side of the door.

It almost felt like the old times. Even if Frank was way more rougher around the edges than their other friends ever were.

It was so relieving to have him there.

"I was thinking Stevie Pole Wonder!" She called out, interrupting the pair's conversation after Frank asked about Matt's imaginary stripper name. She couldn't help herself, both she and Matt needed this. Frank probably too. The world was going to shit and having a moment to pet her dog or think about Matt's hands on her face... Yes, they were all reminders of the reasons why they all fight.

Friends. Family.

They fight so that nobody ever faces a loss like they did with Foggy. Or Matt's dad.

Her own dad.

Kate probably broke a record by how quickly she changed into her Hawkeye costume. She was well aware that the clock was ticking and she still had things to do, she needed to get ready for what was about to happen. This was important, she needed to pull her weight and couldn't depend on these guys. She wasn't going to hold them back, she wasn't going to prove Matt wrong and keep him distracted, watching over her ass.

Gathering her hair into a ponytail, she walked out of Matt's room to join Frank. "I swear I don't normally wear all this makeup for this kinda thing. Hope these assholes feel special."

Making kissy noises and patting her lap, Kate got Lucky's attention as she headed towards one of the bags she'd brought with her, taking out Lucky's leash. She handed it to the dog, who obediently took it in his mouth. "Okay, boy, We're going for a walk. You go downstairs and wait for me. Wait downstairs, Lucky," she insisted as her dog eagerly wagged his tail, following Kate to the door.

Holding it open, she let him out and repeated. "Downstairs and wait, Lucky." The retriever headed to the stairs, hesitating as he looked back. "We're going to get pizza. Wait downstairs."

That did the trick. Quick as an arrow, Lucky followed her orders and, she could only hope, would be clear of any danger.

"Matt brings you up more often than you'd think." She commented, her gaze going up at the ceiling as she was well aware that Murdock was listening. "Even if he plays hard-to-get, I'm sure he's glad you're here." Heading to her things again, Kate opened a leather duffel bag to get out her quiver and select her trick arrows. She needed to choose quickly, keeping in mind something short-ranged that wouldn't backfire on them.

[streetlevel]

The banter felt both familiar and new. A shift in dynamics, with the addition of Frank. The other man was someone Matt had known off and on for close to twenty years now. Kate was a much more recent addition to Matt's life. He was glad for each of them in their own way. Matt knows he can't do this without help. Frank might just be here because of Karen, or maybe he'd just been looking for an excuse to join the fight, but this was Kate's city, too. He knew that she fought for it as hard as Matt did.

They're getting out of this. All of them. Alive.

His fingers brushed over the reinforced leather uniform, over the horns on the helmet. Then he began to get ready.

Out in the living room Frank watched Lucky race down the stairs and commented, "Good mutt." He didn't care about most people dying, but he was glad the dog might get to safety. Resting his gun on his shoulder he watched Kate as she chose her arrows and gave a small snort at her comment. "I'd ask what he says but I don't wanna blush. Anyway, whether he's glad or not, when times turn to shit you can't get picky." He paused a moment before adding, "Me and Red go way back. We don't gotta like one another to work together. I know his deal. But what about you? What's yours?" He noticed the bow and arrow. An interesting choice for sure. Not one he'd have chosen. He preferred something as common but efficiently deadly as a gun. "Living this life, it fucks you up, you know. So either you're already fucked up, or something matters more to you than getting that way."

[hawk_shot]

Kate couldn't help smiling to herself. The levels of testosterone in a room shared with Frank Castle? It explained the mild annoyance in Matt's tone as he had bantered back.

"Huh? Well, I might be a little fucked up." The quiver was new. Definitely held way more arrows than the last one and kept the trick ones firmly attached as an extra safety measure. "When I was a kid, my dad died -- My dad was murdered during the Battle of New York. Mom and I almost get killed. But as this... This thing came towards me, a single arrow took him down."

Clint can argue as much as he wants, he can carry as much pain and doubts as Matt does. But she'll never stop reminding both men of their value. Of how much they mean to their people.

"All my life I've practiced martial arts, kick boxing, I picked archery when I was eight. Now, I'm not gonna use what I learned to pretend I'm giving a real fight in a competition when people out there need all the help they can get."

Satisfied with her choices, Kate picked her duffel bag, carrying to Matt's balcony.

"I don't know, I just can't stay at home and do nothing. And I don't want other little girls to lose their dads and have nobody to help when they need it."

[streetlevel]

A single arrow. Barton? Frank only knew the man in passing, heard he'd retired. Sounded fake to Frank, but that wasn't his business. Instead he focused on Kate and her story, what she'd done when rising from the rubble. It was like the inverse of his story. He'd lost his kids, Kate had lost a parent. "Yeah. That'd fuck anyone up at least a little." He paused, because he wasn't very good at this shit. He didn't say he was sorry, because sorry meant nothing. "I'm sure your dad would be proud of you wanting to help out. World needs people like you two."

He raised his voice then. "You hear that, Red? It's the only compliment you're ever getting from me."

Matt left the bedroom, smiling a little. He had his clubs already in his hand, one of which he spins lazily to warm up. "Where would our coffee industry be without you, Frank? The feeling's mutual. You're a good man when you want to be."

Frank made a face. "Ugh, let's cut this sentimental shit."

"Sure? Kate and I can talk about our feelings for hours."

"Yeah, I heard you're dating a shrink now. Good for you, maybe you'll figure out why you're shit talking to a guy who's shot you in the head before."

Matt turned to Kate. "He didn't kill me. I think he liked me even then. Frank, maybe after this, we can all find small animals to pet and talk about all the other good things and people in the world."

A gun was waved right in his face as Frank mockingly prayed. "God that doesn't exist, let the assholes barge down the door right now or I'm gonna shoot him first." The barrel pressed on his head, turning it aside as Frank went to stand catty-corner across the room from the door, hidden on the balcony but with a good vantage spot. He was in position.

Matt chuckled. "I'm gonna go on the roof. Keep an ear out." He touched Kate's shoulder on his way, giving her a small nod. "You do, you know. Save a lot of little yous in the world. I'm sure of it." He gave her shoulder a squeeze and then vaulted onto the rooftop. He stood waiting. Waiting.

Footsteps, heavy and certain. An easy break into Matt's apartment that looked empty. At first.

CRASH.

Matt broke through the skylights, landing in the middle of the room. Screams and shots began to fill the space, with Matt keeping steady track of Frank and Kate's heartbeats throughout the fight.

[OOC: I'm not great at action scenes so I tend to gloss over a lot of it. However, feel free to add in whatever details you want! I figure the general vibe of the fight would stay the same but I am totally down for that arrow through the hand and things like that. <3]