Entry tags:
(Almost) Murder in the dance floor (for
streetlevel )
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.
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.
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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.
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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."
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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.
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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."
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"... 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.
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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."
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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."
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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.
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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.
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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."
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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.
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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?"
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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.]
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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.]
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"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.
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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.
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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."
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"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."
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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]
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Simply nodding and making faces in the background as Matt teased Castle, Kate was thankful for how this little breather shook out some of the anxiety off her body. As trained as she is, so are the guys of the task force and each of them is probably twice as a big, more than twice her weight. Every shot needs to be perfect.
Matt has probably noticed it too, the way her body speaks more than her silly words and jokes do. He comes to her and, after a brief touch, gives her something very precious. Like his God, her father might not be able to speak to her directly, but she needs to have faith too on what Matt says. Faith on what they do.
"Be careful, Red," she whispers with a playful cadence as she goes to take her position outside with Frank.
The world is dark and quiet for a while, it's hard to tell for how long. It's impressive, because even though a whole van of these men is without a doubt about to burst through Matt's door, they are indeed quiet. Kate second guesses herself, sure that she's heard a door creaking. Is her mind playing tricks giving her what she can't wait for any longer? Are those steps? How many?
Kate looks at Frank, mirroring her position as he waits by the other side of the balcony's door. Like Matt, he doesn't need to see, but he's probably already figured a body count. She can see it in the way he's focused, the man is a professional. Kate on the other hand, she's inexperienced still. Completely blind. Depends on Matt's cue.
It all happens at once. The men approaching the balcony, making her hold her breath. Changing their mind and turning around, surprised as Matt crashes down through the skylight. With the end of her bow, Kate smashes the door's window, arrow at the ready. She shoots a net, capturing two of the men surrounding Daredevil, the darkness in the apartment lighting up briefly as electricity runs through the wires and shocks them unconcious. One by one, she hits them on arms, shoulders, shoulderblades and even kneecaps before they hide in every corner, taking every piece of shelter as Matt and Frank hunt them out. The lights of every shot surrounds the men fighting like fireflies in hell's garden.
Kate jumps into that chaos. She notices him, a blur of red that crosses a room full of shouting and shooting. He's fine despite of the shot he took earlier. Regaining her focus, she fights men without faces and takes her share of punches despite of how she does anticipate a good bunch of their moves. Castle is near and, even tough Kate is keeping distance to let him do his thing, she glances his way in the exact moment a man holds up the barrel of his submachine gun, ready to take a perfect shot.
"Frank!" With a swing of her metallic bow, she hits the officer right across the head and knocks him down. Castle, who had been on the floor and wrestling another one, jerks his knife up as blood and pieces fly across the room. The blood of one of his victims sprays everything, hitting Kate right on the face. Shocking her. It's a mistake, a pause only interrupted by how strong arms wrap around her throat to try and knock her out.
She fights and whrites, kicking her legs desperatedly until, hitting the wall with both her feet, she makes the guy holding her lose his balance and hit the back of his head against Matt's kitchen island.
The task force is almost down and things become less and less confusing. Pulling arrows from her quiver, every shot is far more calculated now, making those that Matt has beaten stay down in the ground as she continues hitting feet and limbs, immobilizing them while Matt kicks weapons off their reach.
It finally feels like more familiar territory. This is what they do. How they work as a team.
Glass crackles under her boots as she slowly scouts the apartment, one last arrow flying across and right over a fallen Frank, hitting an officer square on the hand and nailing him to the wall.
Matt checks on them, calling their names. All three of them are out of breath, completely beaten, but alive and relatively in one piece.
"I'm good," Kate calls back as she holds onto what's left of his couch, leaning into it for a second. The bruises are swelling already and, as adrenaline eases off, her body starts letting her know.
[ooc: Don't worry, I'm the same and don't get enough chances to give this kinda scene a go, oddly enough considering the genre we play in. Hope this worked!]
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He yelled at Frank to stop when he felt things were getting too brutal, but of course the Punisher didn't listen. The man was in his death machine mode, tearing down the people who'd put him on a perverted pedestal. Blood soaked the shirts of these men bearing the skull logo, and bodies dropped to the ground with either a silenced or erratic heartbeat. Matt's own gunshot wound was throbbing, the pain radiating outward as new bruises were added to the list. At one point Matt even had to lean against his corner bookshelf, holding his arm tight around his body and panting to give himself a moment to recover before rejoining the fray. His clubs were tossed at all angles, even behind him, finding purchase with their targets before returning to him. Bones cracked, but Matt was careful not to have any of the injuries he levied be fatal.
Matt heard Frank fall to the floor, leaping over a counter to collide with an assailant. He also heard someone approaching from behind while that scuffle was going on. Matt turned, ready to help, but Kate was already on it. He heard the clang of the bow against skull and the person go down. In a ragged but smug tone Matt called out, "Told you!" as he grappled with another gunman, turning their spray of bullets into the walls when it had been about to shower his friends. He just managed to wrestle the gun away and knock the man out against the counter when someone rammed into his side, making him see stars before Matt used the other man's heavier weight against him and flipped him over the sofa and into the coffee table, crushing it.
"Shove that baton up your ass if you're not gonna really use it," was Franks retort, but he did clock that Kate helped him. There'd be time to thank her later. For now he was busy barreling bullets into bodies.
Matt flung one of the men into his television then vaulted himself into the air to evade a parade of shots fired at him. Kate managed to pin the hand of the man to the wall to stop it. One last man standing, Matt used the cable in his billy clubs to thrust out and trip them, a final punch on the ground knocking them out cold.
Matt stood in the middle of the room, panting heavily. The adrenaline was still rushing through him enough that he could hold himself upright. The combination of the earlier gunshot, the drugs, and the new battered bruising would take it's toll eventually, but not yet.
"Just getting warmed up," was Frank's answer as he sat up, leaning against the kitchen cabinets for a moment. "You good, Red?"
"Yeah. Yeah..." Matt sucked in air.
Frank's fingers picked up a bullet with the skull on it, slowly getting to his feet and tossing the small piece of metal to Matt. "Think we found your guy." Matt stiffened at that, knowing what Frank meant. Hector's killer. Likely the same man that had threatened Kate, too. He approached Cole who was desperately radioing for help, saying that the Punisher was on site.
Matt knelt in front of Cole, holding up the bullet. His voice was lower, a hellbent growl. "This yours? Yeah, you recognize it, don't you? You killed Hector Ayala. He was a good man. You threatened an innocent woman. You've been terrorizing this city."
Cole spoke through a mouthful of blood and spittle. "Do what you gotta do. I stood with my own. I can die easy." Cole's head tipped to the side, studying Kate without remorse as he addressed them all. "Nobody here is innocent."
Rage. Matt didn't see the world, but he could see red. He stood up, backed away a moment, then with a sickening whack he knocked Cole practically unconscious. Memories flooded back to him. Of Hector, newly freed for only one last day of life. Of Foggy and Karen, and what that loss had nearly driven him to do on the rooftop with Bullseye - what he had been driven to do, not knowing Bullseye would survive.
"Do it, Red," Frank encouraged him. "Come on, he's right there."
"He's not worth it, he's not worth it," Matt kept repeating like a desperate prayer, trying to convince and calm himself. He heard Frank's frustrated scoff, heard the Punisher's gun click and he stepped in front of Cole to create a protective barrier between Frank and Cole. "No, no. Frank! It's not what I want. Please don't."
"Yeah?" Frank studied him with resignation and a little derision. The divide that always separated them in the end. He looked over at Kate. "What about you? Keeping this shitbag alive, is that what you want?"
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He'd murdered another vigilante as soon as people stepped up for him, proving hs innocence. He showed no remorse, pretty much admitting to being at her door. Letting her know that just as easy, he could throw down her door and put a bullet in her head after...
She didn't want to think too much about it, but these kind of men tend to be extra brutal with women. They do find enjoyment as they show off their power, taking away their victim's sense of safety, their dignity. Kate knows this kinda trash.
"What about you?"
The word resonated as she stared at both Frank and Matt, this corrupted cop's life dangling from their fingers. Even though the cut on the top of one of her eyebrows kept pouring fresh blood and the bruise made it hard to see, Kate still felt like a deer in the headlights as Frank demanded Kate to admit if she wanted her pound of flesh.
For a moment, she looked at Matt with guilt, because in her heart she knew they were pieces of shit with cruel methods that ate up being backed up by Fisk. They had free range for cruelty and, as a group, encouraged each other to be the worst they could be.
'Nobody here is innocent'. If the tables were turned, they wouldn't have mercy on them. Matt surely realizes that and he is still stepping in for that piece of crap.
But can she be executioner? Can she do it in cold blood out of a fight? Where does the fight really end?
"This is not how we do it." It scared her shitless, almost even more than the firefight they just endured. Because she wanted Frank to like her, she wanted them to be a team. And she also wanted to prove her value, be at their level, say something smart. But this wasn't college or debate club.
This is standing her ground and realizing that a man's life might depend on her answer.
"If Fisk had died tonight they'd have a martyr," she points out, surprising herself by what suddenly hit her like a lightning in the dark. She was still mad as hell at Matt for risking his life, but what would have happened if Fisk was dead? They might have called Bullseye a vigilante too. Things would grow out of proportion and the ideas Fisk stands for? Vanessa would have a poster boy for destroying everything they believe in.
If they kill every member of the task force, their friends and new recruits will come back, bigger in numbers and with a more personal revenge.
"I don't know, break their bones, make it impossible for them to grab a gun again. But if we kill them we make their ideology stronger. We can't kill that, we have to prove them wrong."
They had to change the mind of people. Of good people like Heather who now thought Daredevil and Muse were the same thing.
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Matt held his hands up, weary but resolved. "She's right. If we just start killing everyone right back, then all that happen is chaos. A warzone that will make innocent people continue to fall. We have to inspire what's left of the city to fight back in a way that doesn't leave us all in ashes."
Frank scoffed, shaking his head. "So getting in front of bullets that would stop killers is what you do, heroes? He's not worth it? Well, what about him? Is he worth it?" He pointed at a nearby man incapacitated on the floor and blew his brains out.
Immediately Matt grabbed him by the collar, thrusting him back. "God, you just can't help yourself, can you? What is wrong with you? You're a liability every time!"
Frank pushed back just as hard, roaring, "Get your goddamn hands off of me! Go play church somewhere else, blind boy, hiding under your-"
"SHUT UP!" Matt's head tilted to the side, listening intently. Frank, for all his bluster, was trained enough to know when to get quiet.
He recognized that look on Matt's face even if he couldn't hear anything.
"Oh shit." Frank immediately reached out and pulled Kate towards him. "Kid, get over here." Whatever it was, it wasn't good.
"Grenade. RUN! Run, run!" Matt shoved both Kate and Frank towards the balcony. As they moved towards the edge, he reached out and grabbed Kate. "Hold on no matter what," he told her, trying to swing her so that she was holding onto him from the back with her arms around his neck. Frank already knew the drill, starting to leap off the side. Matt thrust out one end of his wire, the grapple at the other end finding purchase. With his free hand he wrapped an arm around Frank's waist. The weight was excruciating for Matt, but he clung on grimly and hoped that Kate did the same as they plummeted towards the ground.
An unsuspecting car beneath his balcony took the brunt of their landing. Matt's legs buckled and he rolled off the car, letting go of Frank and landing hard on his knees on the ground rather than risking rolling into his back and injuring Kate.
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All of a sudden Matt and Frank were at each other's throats, spitting over each other as they yelled. It took a moment for Kate to draw herself out of her shock. "Hey, stop it! You two stop it!!" Stepping in to try and put her hands, even push her arms between them, Kate found it impossible to pull them apart. It was like trying to push two walls away from each other.
Kate tried yelling and even pushing herself between both men, but just as suddenly as the fight had started Matt himself shut them all up. She didn't get it, didn't fully understand why Frank was pulling her aside, barely registered that Matt had said 'grenade' as she tripped on her own feet, thankfully being dragged out by the two men.
"What the fuck, what the fuck," she repeated like a mantra, realizing she was finally freaking out. But Matt grabbed the steering wheel, adjunsting her arms around his neck as they got ready to get out of there. Jump. They were going to jump. Like swinging across the city with Peter, she told herself. Not a big deal. But what about Frank?
Before all those questions fully registered, she found herself hiding her face against the back of Matt's neck, feeling the pull of his jump and her ponytail moving like a whip when the wind hit them. One of her legs dangled while the other half-wrapped itself around Matt's waist, the weight of Frank hitting their left.
She squeezed, not realizing she must have almost choked Matt in her desperation to not let go, to cling to him as they fell, unsure of where they would land.
And then, just as suddenly, came the landing. She didn't take the hit, but her whole body shook as Matt did, her feet barely registering something solid that sagged under their weight. They rolled together as the alarm of a car went off.
"Matt. Matt?" Easing her hold, she let go of him, her legs wobbly as she cupped one of his cheeks, checking on him. "Are you okay? Frank?" Kate could barely stand, landing on her ass as she looked at the both of them. Bloody. Having taken an impossible jump. The sound of the explotion followed, making her flinch again just as she looked up, the sky lighting up as Matt's apartment was blown up.
It looked like something out of a movie.
"Lucky." Rolling around, she got on all fours and scrambled on her feet. "I need to get Lucky!" All her body ached even though she'd taken the easiest slice of the pie, but Kate ran with every little strenght she had in her body. Not caring if there was other members of the task force waiting there or not.
The coast was clear. Her one-eyed dog, obedient was waiting at the exit door of Matt's building. Rubble kept raining dangerously around them as Kate kicked the glass into pieces, calling him out. The dog had been cowering, curling against a wall after all those loud, terrifying sounds. He practically launched itself over his owner, covering her in kisses as he was finally out.
But Kate didn't see the car taking the turn around the corner and heading straight for Matt and Frank. She could't have anticipated what would happen next. The healights fell on both of them, emphasizing what sore thumbs they were in the middle of all of that destruction.
But Karen Page wasn't shocked at all by what she found as she stepped out of her car.
"Come on. Get in."
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Frank rocked himself into a standing position with a groan. "Just... getting started." He watched as Kate sprinted for the building, not stopping her. Hell, if it was his dog, he'd have done the same thing. He started to trudge after her, feeling Matt fall into step beside him.
"You're an asshole, Frank." Matt wearily began limping, hearing Frank agree with him as they went. Matt could hear the joyful reunion of girl and dog, making him not feel the need to rush. Instead, the light from a car stopped both Frank and Matt in their tracks.
Matt knew that heartbeat, even before a word was spoken.
Karen.
Any other time, Matt would have called shotgun. This time though, he felt like it was the wrong thing to say when Kate would also be joining them. After all, she'd just met Frank, and the man had blown people's brains out not three minutes ago. She might not want to sit alone with him in the back. "I know that tone. I'm guessing the dog gets shotgun," Matt wearily joked instead, holding the door open in the back for Kate.
"Funny man. I'll risk it," Frank said drolly, sitting in the front passenger seat with Karen. Lucky absolutely bounded over when Kate moved closer, snuggling into the front seat with Frank despite the man's token protests. He looked over at Karen and gave a small nod, eloquent as ever with, "Hey."
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