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(Almost) Murder in the dance floor (for ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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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 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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Even thought weariness was starting to catch up with her and Kate had a limp of her own, she practically raced to meet this friend she had missed so much since she and Matt reconnected. Karen's face genuinelly lit up as she held her eyes open and captured Kate into a tight embrace. Both women had kept in touch since Karen moved to San Francisco, but only keeping a casual connection sharing memes and short exchanges. Grief didn't need much words sometimes. Or allowed them.
"You've looked better," Karen pointed out teasingly as they both chuckled. "Come on, get in," she encouraged as Matt held the door open for Kate.
Not understanding the connection between Frank and Karen, this was all just an unexpected but wonderful reunion to Kate. But, as she settled on the back of the car, taking off her quiver and dropping it with her bow at the feet, she finally allowed her aching back to rest. Her eyes closed for what she told herself would be a short break, not more than five minutes. As Matt joined her by her side, she could't help but slide towards her right, leaning onto him.
Showing a little anxiety himself, Lucky wouldn't stop panting, his tongue lolling out as he shifted positions over Frank every few minutes.
"Hey there, handsome. I've missed you too," Kare granted him, stroking the dog's face even though he gaze strayed towards Frank briefly. The dog seemed to follow her intructions, soon twisting to face the Punisher and aiming at giving him a mouthful of dog tongue.
"You'll have to give me directions to your new bunker," she told him, keeping her tone casual even though a delighted smile kept pushing to come out. "Hard to keep track of where you hide these days."
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Frank Castle, teasing. Not in the rude soldier way he normally did, but dorky teasing.
Matt sat quiet, listening to the words. Hearing what was left unsaid. Heartbeats and aftershave. Feelings on both sides. Something in his chest squeezed, and it wasn't the popped stitches. He tilted his head towards the blown up building, saying a silent goodbye to what was lost in that apartment. Old boxing gloves, worn billy clubs. A silly little trinket that reminded him of Foggy. Matt said goodbye to parts of a past he likely wouldn't get back, and his chest hurt for yet another reason.
He changed focus yet again. A warm body resting against him. A steady heartbeat that was still strong, if exhausted. He very lightly rested his head back on Kate's. Just for a moment. He breathed in a scent that he wouldn't admit made him feel a little better. "We need to take a look at your eye when we stop," he murmured to her. Then, in a louder voice, he asked Karen, "Any trouble getting here on your end?"
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Frank could claim as much as he wanted that he kept his distance. But he was a steady presence, one which Karen knew she could put her trust on. If he got a new burner number, he would reach out to let her know. That is why she had not even hesitated before asking him for help. After hearing what had happened with Matt, she knew Castle was their best bet before they could regroup. Things had crossed a line and they needed to put an end to it.
As Kate felt the weight of Matt's head on her temple, she shifted slightly, adjusting her cheek agaist his shoulder. It felt good, the sort of relaxed closeness she needed. Simply knowing they were all right. Safe for a moment.
"It doesn't hurt," she mumbled, aware that he'd know she was lying. It didn't matter.
Karen briefly looked at them both in the back over thre rearview, her own heartbeat betraying something like Kate's did. "Traffic is crazy in certain areas, I had to avoid Midtown completely. But that's hardly surprising given what's going on." She didn't to clarify why. Or to ask how Matt was holding up. With both him and Frank, and apparently Kate too now, that was pointless.
Time to let them catch up.
"Every news channel is already discussing the possibilities of going into martial law. Fisk is going to milk everything he can about this situation. Reinforce his new laws, claim that this is an attack on the city itself."
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His life was a complicated mess, and his girlfriend who despised his alter ago wasn't even in the car with them.
Karen brought them to oddly safer conversational grounds, rooting the talk in Fisk.
"I'm glad you're all right," was all he said on her arriving to get them, trying to sit up a little straighter without jostling Kate too much. "And of course he is." There was a bitter edge to Matt's tone. "There's more to this than that though, Karen. More than Fisk just holding the city under his thumb. I'm certain of it. There's something about Foggy's last case that they're trying to keep buried."
"All this would be done and buried if you hadn't gone and taken a bullet for the bastard," Frank retorted as he scruffled Lucky's head and told him in a very quiet voice that he was a good boy.
Matt sighed. "Not now, Frank." A beat. "Did you just ask who's a good boy?"
"I think you need to get your hearing checked," Frank replied stiffly as Lucky licked him. He looked over at Karen. "The news saying anything about Fisk's chosen task force wearing the Punisher symbol? 'cause we just fought a whole lotta them that weren't afraid to show it."
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It had been her way of coping with it all, work had always been her way of coping with pain. And Matt had turned her back on her, leaving her again on her own.
She tried to push that pain into the dark back of herself. Now's not the time.
"It was his wife," Kate interrupted. "You mentioned something about Vanessa. Maybe that's why Bullseye tried to take Fisk out? He might be working for her." What if she was trying to take over their empire? She was taking two birds with one stone. Foggy first, then her husband out of the way.
As questions squeezed her brain, Matt teasing Frank managed to steal a much needed chuckle out of her. That only encouraged Lucky, who again gave another turn over the ex soldier and another shot at kissing his face.
"That shitstain left one of those bullets with your skull at my door," Kate commented bitterly, still remembering how Matt had spit that out on that bastard's face.
Nobody here is innocent.
Karen shook her head. "They're not saying anything about that, they're not wearing your simbol for the public to see. My guess is they're not gonna risk the backlash." Karen shared a brief look with Frank. "No offense."
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So he stopped himself as he started to reach forward and touch her shoulder for comfort. His hand curled into a fist and he sat back again, chewing on the inside of his cheek.
"I'm certain that she's the one who put the hit on Foggy. Her doing it on Fisk... that one I'm not as confident. Fisk moved Bullseye to gen pop, likely to kill him so that link to Vanessa would be gone. Bullseye felt betrayed, so I think he went off book once he broke out and tried to take on Fisk for it." Matt might be wrong, but that was how he imagined the scenario going down. "I've known Wilson and Vanessa a long time. There's nothing they won't do for one another. Vanessa turning on him... I'm not sure I see that."
In a sick way, Wilson Fisk had managed to maintain a more consistent romantic life than Matt Murdock by a mile. Whether that said nothing good about Vanessa or even less good about Matt, he didn't know. Maybe both.
"In any case, there's no way they're turning on each other now. They're going to present a united front, so we have to find out what that chink in their armor was that they're trying to hide so they go down together. And Bullseye is still on the loose. I doubt he'll go to ground for good, and who knows who'll get hurt with him running free." Matt rubbed a hand over his aching face. It didn't work as well with the mask on.
"I can handle Bullseye," Frank said calmly, letting Lucky get in one lick. "First on my list is this task force, though." He looked over at Karen. "No offense taken. These guys think they wanna emulate me? They're gonna find out what that really means." He gave a small nod up ahead. "Here. Find someplace to park. It's not a long walk from this spot."
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"Do you think Heather could help?" Kate asked as she finally opened her eyes, tilting her as she looked up at Matt. It was so strange to see him wearing the mask in this sort of situation. Out of the job, simply in the back of a car. Sitting down and trying to enjoy a break as much as they could. "Or maybe she has tapes from her sessions with the Fisks? Notes?"
That would involve betraying her trust, which she knew is the last thing Matt wants. Or needs. Things were bad enough as they were and she can't help the guilt that creeps up for simply asking him if that's even on the table.
"Maybe if you guys talk..."
The car came to a stop and Karen got out. Frank waited for Lucky to hop off him and out, before getting out and shoving the door closed.
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"Heather would never hand over those tapes. Her professionalism means everything to her," Matt said tightly. What he didn't say was an automatic no for getting those tapes or notes some other way.
God, he was an asshole for considering it.
"Hey, maybe the boy scout has some balls after all," Frank bandied back, a smirk on his face at Matt's annoyance in return. He walked alongside Karen, ahead of Kate and Matt, leading them down the winding path and into his bunker. "Here we are. Wipe your damn feet." He went to located his medical supplies. "I've got stuff to get us cleaned up. And I'm making coffee. Anyone want any?"
"Do you have oat milk?" Matt asked as he gently stopped Kate, nodding at her forehead in a silent request to see how bad the cut was.
"Blind bougie bastard," Frank was heard muttering behind him.
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She felt horrible for making that suggestion. It was like she was pushing Matt into going further down that slope. Betraying a woman who had been nothing but kind to her and that, even if things were rocky at the moment, she still made her friend happy. Heather had helped Matt through one of the hardest years in his life, hadn't she?
Shit, there's probably a special hole for people like her in hell or something. She's just glad that she didn't follow up on the catholic upbringing like Matt did.
Frank Castle's little hideout was definitely something else. Packed with guns and equipment, something that shouldn't be surprising but still shocked Kate as she saw it. She could't help the little whistle of appreciation that escaped her lips as she took the place in. "This is like an actual secret lair."
Even though Lucky had been following Frank around, the mutt was now stopping every few steps, clearly impressed by the several different scents the place had to offer. "I'd kill for some coffe," Kate practically groaned, surprised by how much she suddenly craved the caffeine. Karen, with her arms folded, snorted and shook her head, politely declining the offer.
Kate was so distracted by everything that was going on that she didn't quite understand what Matt meant when he first stopped her. "Oh! It's fine, don't worry." Even though her eye was now a shade that matched her uniform and clearly radiating a warmth he wouldn't miss.
However, even if she could only see half of Matt's face, she knew that look. "Honestly, I'm okay." But, following his request, she took his hand and guide it to her forehead, trying not to visibly wince as his gloved hand touched the wound. Even if her eyebrow concealed it, it was clear that she needed stitches.
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He felt Karen put a hand on his chest. "Matt..." her voice trailed off. She knew he was hurt. Matt knew it, too. She also knew that Matt wouldn't rest until their mutual friend was helped. Always the martyr, no matter what it did to the man. She blew out a sigh, knowing and tired, and gave him a small smile as she patted his chest, then walked away from him. "I'll look after Frank. You help Kate." There was a knowing resignation in her voice, an unwillingness to fall back on old patterns with Matt as much as she could admire and respect the intention behind his self-destructiveness.
Frank had put on the police scanner, turning to look at Karen in surprise. It was just a shoulder shot. He could easily patch himself up. Karen just said, "Sit," in a tone that said she couldn't handle him being a stubborn ass, too. So he sat and let her help him, saying in a wry voice, "You leave me any scars and I'll complain about not being pretty anymore." His foot nudged hers, understanding her needs right now. After all, before it all went to shit, Frank had known how to be a caring husband. Not that he and Karen were...
"You're crazy for coming back, you know," he told her.
"You're crazy for answering my call," she shot back at him.
They smiled.
Meanwhile, Matt had taken out the materials and if Kate let him tried to start cleaning her wound so that he could stitch it. "If you sit still, Lucky won't be as upset," he said. "That is entirely a manipulative tactic, but I'm not afraid to use it." He smiled, hoping to charm his way into helping her.
"Fisk sent men after Matt Murdock. That's bold, even for him. After both of you, if he knew Kate was with you," Karen commented as she helped stitch Frank.
"Like I said, he'll do anything for love. Especially when the love of his life helps him move millions illegally. We need to see that motion Foggy meant to file. I think there was something in that motion to dismiss that Vanessa made sure he didn't."
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Well. His wounds, anyway.
She didn't argue, simply nodding and taking a seat. "You know, maybe we can just glue it," she commented as Matt approached her, taking a seat by her side as he started picking pieces of gauze to clean the crust of blood tangled on her eyebrow. His joke about manipulation at least earned him a smile he wouldn't miss. Lucky's whimper seemed to agree to his point.
Kate isn't exactly a fan of needles, but she knows she will suck it up if needed. She knows these guys won't bat an eye about getting their stitches and neither should she.
Voices mumbled through the police scanner, for a while the one sound interrupting their silence. "All our files are in storage. Unless anyone broke in, that's where we start looking," Karen pointed out as the thread pulled on Frank's skin, stitch by stich closing his wound. "It's gonna take a while, but six eyes are better than two." There was a pause, in which she briefly looked at Frank. "You comin' with us?"
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Lucky sat right at Kate's side, his head on her lap, the devoted second half of her soul that wouldn't part. It was the sweetest thing, and made Matt love Lucky all the more for how he loved Kate.
Pulling out a medicine bottle whose label he covered with his palm before pocketing, Frank dry swallowed some pills and grunted, "Sounds like you got plenty of eyes, Ace." Ace reporter, a nickname he'd never let fully go off, but one that had developed over the years independent of Matt. Frank liked his nicknames. "Besides, I got shit to do." That task force? That was his problem.
"Fisk will be coming after you too now," Matt pointed out.
"Yeah, well, let him come. I'll put a bullet in his big, fat head," Frank retorted, the usual aggression between him and Matt present. When he looked back at Karen though he sighed. "Look, they're wearing my symbol. They don't get to do that. If I thin the ranks, take out those on top? It'll buy you all some time before they can rebuild. I got this, Karen. I'll handle the task force, then I'm going after Bullseye. After all, that's why you called me in the first place, isn't it?"
Silence.
Matt stilled while stitching Kate. He knew Frank was speaking the truth. Karen had heard the news, heard the psychotic assassin was on the loose, and called in the one assassin who might go toe to toe with him. To protect Matt, sure. Maybe. Was that it, though? Or was Karen calling Frank to handle a problem that she knew Matt wouldn't?
"I mean, to help Red with him," Frank tried to cover. "Best way to keep Bullseye off all your backs is to have him on mine. And trust me, Karen. Karen? Trust me. That asshole won't know what target hit him. I'll keep him occupied while you figure shit out." That was what Frank did. He wasn't the hero. Not even in the Army. He was Black Ops. He worked quietly, in the shadows. He eliminated so that others could rebuild. He stifled, so that others could fit through. "You go do your hero shit. Leave the dirty work to me."
Bluster. Bravo at the end. He wanted her to understand, but he also needed them gone so that he could protect them how he knew best.
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This almost felt like an inside joke, realizing that he got to feel her face for the second time tonight, bruised and swollen and getting to fix it.
"I know I'm in good hands," she assured him, even if her face twitched lightly as he had no option but to put a gentle pressure on some particularly sore spots. But Kate held her ground. She stood still, holding her breath every time the needle pierced skin, unable to participate in the chat as her jaw tightened, grinding her teeth when Matt stitched her up.
Karen wasn't so shocked by Frank's plan. As always, Frank danced to his own tune, did his own thing. As much as she had trusted that he would follow through with her request when she first called, even she knew that there was only so much she could ask of him.
Her gaze met his briefly on the reflection of the mirror he had on his desk. Her fingers stopped working, the last stitch done. Fingertips traced her work. Nothing odd, just tracing her own work. Not a real caress.
"You do your thing, Frank," Karen agreed, her tone soft but collected. After all, she could hardly see him joining their little Scooby gang, going after the clues instead of doing things the Punisher way. It was what kept them apart, wasn't it? Like Matt, who tended to disappear when things got ugly, Frank went off the rails. It was their way of dealing with pain, for the both of them. It was how they both thought they were protecting the people they cared about.
With the knot done, Karen cut the thread and, before he could move off his seat, put pressure on his shoulder in a silent request for Frank to remain seated.
"Be careful." Grabbing his chin, she forced him to turn to face her. She scanned his face, looking for anything else she might need to take care of. "Call when you're done."
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Frank knew Bullseye. He knew him in a way that Matt couldn't. This wasn't about a city, or heroics.
This was putting a former Brother, a rabid dog, down.
Frank clasped Karen's hand and gave it a squeeze. 'I got this. I got you.' He didn't say it. He just meant it. He leaned forward, tapped her forehead to his. Then he stood up, and he went to make coffee.
It wasn't long before the brew, too bitter and astringent for Matt's taste, filled the air.
He cleaned and fixed Kate's wound, putting a patch over it that he taped when done. "Your leg." So many injuries to go. So many people to help. Fuck. Alice? Fuck... Matt had most of his building on speed dial. He reached for his phone, it fell from his clumsy fingers. Fuck.
Lord, was it ego to have brought them back? Was it blood money to have kept them contained, fought to a standstill, in one location?
"Alice watched out for me..."
His tone was soft, just for Kate. A friend they shared. That addled, paranoid, influencer who was so kind to leave treats out for Lucky, to help Kate without question when she needed to get into Matt's apartment. That kind kid in grad school, hundreds of thousands in debt, who hid behind a mass of matted hair and was stronger than she looked.
That girl who had been abused, frightened, who felt safe inside thanks to Daredevil and who had hoped for a future beyond it thanks to Kate, because of her savvy online skills.
He looked at Kate, not with his eyes, but his heart.
Ping.
Ping.
Ping.
Shots in the dark.
Messages beyond the rumors.
Peter was out there, with his Spider channel.
Ping.
Ping.
Bishop security was receiving messages, on a level that was too deep for any tax bureau to detect.
Ping.
Ping.
Ping.
It was so small. It was so minimal. But Kate and Matt get a message from Alice.
'At Sam's Deli. Tell me you're okay. I got everyone here I could gathered, but I can't hold them for long.
I heard that bomb.
I got everyone out I could.
I told them we're taking back the night.'
Matt sent back a message. Of direction. Of hope. He didn't even know what it meant just yet, it was a blind shot in the dark that he hoped Kate would confirm, or correct as needed.
'Head to Josie's.'
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"Matt?"
He didn't need to explain, a single name said it all. His building. The place had exploded, but how many people were collateral damage? Even their own. Frank had not killed everyone, the task force had been willing to kill their own, completely pissing on everything they had talked about not winning this by following Fisk's rules.
And then there was the innocent people. Matt's neighbors. Alice. Alice who had been doubtful at first but so incredibly kind towards Kate and so welcoming. Normally Kate could have easily broken in, but had forgotten her lock picks at home. And honestly, she was exhausted and desperate for something normal, for the fake sensation of protection Matt's apartment would grant her.
Alice had been so kind and welcoming.
Reaching for her quiver, Kate checked the pocket she had made for it, installed to fit against her back to keep her phone protected. But her inbox wasn't as full as Matt's, she'd had plenty of time to catch up with worried friends and co-workers while Matt was unconscious. Despite taht, she heard Alice's message coming from Matt's phone before she even read it on her own screen.
Before she knew it, Kate was doubling over, wrapping her arms around Lucky in a relieved hug. "Oh, my God. I swear I lost like ten years of my life over how stressful this was."
Turning to Matt, and only a little unsure, she held her arms out and, showing enough hesitation for him not to accept it if he didn't want to, pulled him in for a hug too.
"Do you wanna go there first? We don't have to do the storage right away. Or you can go check on Alice and Karen and I can look for the files?"
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After a moment's hesitation he leaned in for the hug, moving slowly as pain coursed through his upper torso. He held Kate and Lucky for a moment, letting the warmth seep in before reluctantly pulling back. He finished stitching up her head wound then set to patching up what he could with whatever was wrong with her leg. "I'm pretty useless in looking at files, so. I can go check on Alice and the others while you two get a head start on the files. I'll meet you there as soon as I can."
He knew he had to talk to Karen, a real talk, eventually. Plus he didn't like the thought of leaving both of them alone for long with Kate injured and Frank going off on his solo mission literally nobody but himself assigned to him. Not that Matt was annoyed or anything. Not that perhaps in this respect, Frank was too much like Matt for Matt's taste.
Behind them Frank had started the coffee, coming over to hand Kate a cup. "You can take it black or not at all, Red. Up to you."
"All or nothing, I'm so surprised, Frank," Matt muttered, then sighed. "Yeah. Black is fine. I can smell the motor oil from here that's passing for the coffee, but it's better than nothing."
"It's coffee, it shouldn't cost nineteen dollars so someone can fart cinnamon into it or whatever the hell you order," Frank retorted, going to get them both a cup now.
Matt sighed as he worked on Kate's leg. "Yeah. Should have warned you that he's a charmer."
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"You know," Kate started as she tore even further the hole on her legging, giving Matt more room to work without forcing her to strip. "Once you talk to the people in the building, ask if they have somewhere to crash at. If not, give them my number. I'll cover hotel costs until they find somewhere to stay at." Aware as she is that Matt will consider it a big gesture, it's meaningless to Kate. And therefore, something she will insist in if anyone turns it down.
As Frank approached them, she took the cup of coffee and thanked him, blowing off the steam as she tried not to wince while Matt patched up her leg. "Aaaaw, I was half expecting you'd draw me a little skull with milk on my drink. Totally a wasted opportunity there, Frank," she teased him, wasting no time in being her usual, shameless self again.
Karen, already on her phone, tapped at the screen rapidly, catching up with sources along as she checked on things. "Okay, the people at storage will open up for us." She lowered her phone as she stood next to Frank, taking his own cup from him and giving it a sip, before returning the cup. "And Fisk is giving an emergency announcement first thing in the morning."
Yes, she had turned down coffee, but even the motor oil he drinks became a temptress in a moment like this one.
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Frank gave a snort at Kate's remark, bantering back with, "Yeah, maybe see how well cyanide tastes in that milk, really lean into the skull theme. Hey..." That last word was directed at Karen as she stole his drink, though he didn't make any real effort to stop her beyond that token protest. Taking it back once she was done, he took a long drink then set it on one of his tables. Moving to one side, he began to gear up for the rest of the night.
Matt finished with Kate's leg and slowly got to his feet. He drained the coffee in his cup, wincing at both the hot temperature and the burnt, acidic flavor of the brew. His body could feel though that it was very, very high in caffeine. "Damn," he murmured, unsurprised. "Cuban coffee would feel inferior right now." Matt only got Cuban coffee when he was very, very tired because of the punch it packed. Even that didn't hold a candle to Frank's coffee.
Rolling one stiff shoulder and then his neck, feeling joints pop, Matt listened to Karen and gave a small nod. "All right. There's no time to waste. I'll make my way back to Sam's Deli and get everyone settled. You two head to the file storage. I'll meet you there shortly. And Frank?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't be an asshole." Matt set the cup down and headed for the door.
He smiled a little, his back turned so it couldn't be seen, when Frank called back, "No promises."
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Grabbing the first aid kit Matt had been using to clean up and patch Kate's wounds, she crossed the room, grabbing him by the wrist and gently stirring him back in. "You're still bleeding," she gently reminded him in that tone that Matt surely remembered well. A tone that gave no room for argument but that also carried so much empathy and care for those she worried about.
Aware that he had a point and she wouldn't be able to hold him down for long, Karen kept the conversation to the minimum and focused on the wounds that truly couldn't wait. She worked on his suit, probably not surprising Matt with the ease in which she remembered where the Daredevil uniform cocealed its zippers and how to unattach each piece until his torso was bare. That gunshot had clearly pulled a number on him.
"If you don't stay still you're not going to be able to go to the beach this summer," she playfully chastised Matt, aware of the tension that was growing in the air. She could hear Kate trying to make herself busy, Frank gathering his equipment and filling duffel bags with it. Her heart beat faster at the realisation.
Before they knew it, she was helping Matt dress again. Holding his helmet, she pressed a kiss to its forehead before carefully placing it on Matt's head again.
"We'll meet you at the storage." With a pat to his arm she dismissed him, turning and getting off her seat, ready to go grab her coat. "Be careful, Matt."
Kate, done with her drink, took her and Matt's mugs to Frank's sink, thanking him again for his help and hospitality. "The coffee could do with an improvement and I would maybe put some pictures on the walls? I know Matt can't appreciate the art, but it would make the place more lively," she teased him as Lucky came forward, standing againts the man on his hind legs to get Frank's attention one last time.
Unsure of how to approach him, Kate simply held her hand out. "Thanks for helping us, Frank. It was real good to meet you."
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So Matt found himself in a seat, helping to inch off the top of his Daredevil suit. His body was clear of any tattoos, but there were a series of various scars he'd accumulated over the years. The left side of his body where his ribs had been injured was bruised, and the chest wound was bleeding badly. Around Matt's neck was also a chain, with a cross at the end. He'd never taken it off earlier when he'd changed. Matt Murdock wore that under his suit shirts daily.
His eyes closed for a minute as Karen worked. He felt the familiarity of her touch. His lips turned upwards in a small smile at her teasing. "Maybe I could get one of those Popeye shirts to wear, really lean into a sailor motif at the beach." He'd never taken Karen to the beach when they'd been together. Why hadn't he? Nearing the end of her work, Matt reached up gently to take her hands in his. Slowly he brought her hands up to his face. Then he slowly reached out to touch hers, briefly. With permission. He felt the side of her face, felt her cheek and gave it a light stroke. "It's good to see you, Karen."
Clearing his throat, he dropped his hand and nodded. "Yeah. We should get going. Stay safe. I'll join you all shortly."
Meanwhile in the kitchen, Frank gruffly rubbed Lucky's head, letting his fingers fluff the dog's fur.
"Yeah well, I ain't putting shit on the market so the place looks fine," Frank growled as he shook Kate's hand, but there was a small smile on his face, too.
He did miss having a dog, dammit. Seeing that Matt and Karen were still busy, he sneaked Lucky a bit of jerky, warning Kate, "You didn't see shit." A beat. "Watch out for yourself, kid. This task force, they don't operate like a street gang. Most of them are ex-service, I'm sure. They're gonna move as units. They're gonna follow standard tactics, just without any leash. Which means wave attacks, snipers in position, clearing rooms out with gas and bombs. That sorta shit. You hear them coming from one side, figure they've got a set up on the other. Break windows first, open your space. Stay on the ground when you can and go for shots in places only their mamas have seen. You got me?"
Matt came up then, touching Kate's shoulder. "Hey. I'm heading out. I'll meet you at the storage unit. Stay safe. You too, Frank."
"See you on the other side, Red. Just like we always do."
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