organized fanfic with links to chapters, for easier access (ongoing)
Summary:
You and Matt met in the courtroom. Now, you may think that Matt was a knight in shining armour and defended you in the name of all United States laws, but that was not the case. Matt was totally destroying your client, and you wanted to tear him into pieces right then and right there, because with Murdock as your rival, your head is on the firm's plate with each case. Did Matt care? No, he only cared about bringing justice, he was a human-machine, driven by the need to bring righteousness no matter the cost. Or was he just that? What happens when you get involved in Fisk's business and Daredevil's lies against your will?
"Page? Karen Page? I need to see her." You say, making your way towards one of the interrogation rooms in the police station, coming face to face with more officers than you can count.
At least four tall figures loom over you, scrutinizing your every move. Despite feeling slightly intimidated, you hold your ground. "What's the matter, ma'am?" The tallest one, sporting a long beard, questions.
"Lawyer business. She's my colleague."
"I.D.?" His accent is thick; he's probably from England or even Scotland.
"What is this, are you holding the president himself? Come on." You open your briefcase, fully packed with documents and your personal belongings, struggling to find your purse stuck at the bottom of it, under some folders. As you retrieve your I.D., the whole hallway of officers is now looking at you, hands resting on their belts, ready to grab their guns if you were to pull out something other than a document. You calmly hand the bearded officer your I.D. and wait for him to let you through.
"30? You don't look a day older than 26."
You furrow your eyebrows, feeling a mixture of surprise and confusion at the comment. "Thanks, I guess," you say hesitantly. "Can I go in now?"
"Yeah, sure." He steps aside, with the other three officers, giving you the document back.
The doors fly open and Karen jumps in her seat, but then recognizes you and immediately sighs. "Oh, it's you, thank God."
"Karen, what's-" She knocks the air out of your lungs, embracing you tightly. You hesitate at first, but then wrap your arms around her, hugging her back. "Are you okay?"
She pulls back, quickly wiping a tear from her cheek, "Yeah, yeah. I'm alright."
"I'm not." Grotto clears his throat, bringing all the attention to himself. "That freak almost killed me yesterday."
"Could you please elaborate on the situation, Mr. Grotto?" You take the information sheet from Karen, swiftly scanning through her notes. "I'm new to your case."
"Where's Murdock and that other? Who are you?"
"Your lawyer, Mr Grotto, get used to it." Your face becomes expressionless and blank as if you've turned off all your emotions. You did this intentionally; clients always need that coldness for reassurance.
Foggy enters with a fresh wave of air, but alone, happy to see you with Karen.
"The paperwork's almost done and Brett's gonna be in in a minute." Karen is the first to speak, gently moving away from Foggy. He greets you with a firm hand on your shoulder.
"Where's Murdock?" Grotto asks again, not sparing a glance in your direction.
Foggy sits next to you clearing his throat. "He took a sick day." A sick day? First, he's not answering your calls, and now a sick day? You look at Foggy, confused but say nothing. Not the time. "You told us the Irish were attacked by a whole gang of guys. I'm pretty sure the word you used was "army." You want to tell me why I'm now hearing this is all being done by one man?"
"Look, I didn't know you guys were-"
"Who does he work for?" This time Foggy left his soft side at home, and you're happy about it.
"I got no idea!"
"Well, what do you know?" You ask, studying Grotto. He's scared, twitchy and aware of every sound that reaches his ears, like a guard dog protecting his bone.
"I know he's a sociopath, that's what. I mean, yeah, fine I heard the rumors, okay, but I didn't think I thought it was ridiculous, okay? Ten, or 20 guys could be mowed down at a time. And with precision? You know, tactically. Every hit was like some kind of SEAL Team 6. Then people started saying it was one guy doing all that. One man? I thought it was a ghost story." He takes a deep breath, focusing on Karen. "Some campfire shit you tell freshies to make 'em crap their pants. But now... You saw. That guy was the Grim Reaper." Karen's face tones down a shade.
"Mr. Grote, I'm Sergeant Mahoney. Got some clothes here for you." Mahoney comes inside, carrying an orange uniform.
"What? Am I arrested?" Grotto's eyes widen at the prison clothes, disappointment in his lawyers rising.
"Just protective custody until we can figure out WITSEC."
"Why the peel?"
"Or stay in the gown with your ass hangin' out, - I don't care." Mahoney answers, visibly drained from last night, and annoyed. "We pulled the security footage from the hospital. I've got ten men going over it right now."
"Any leads?" You ask, hopeful for this shit to end quickly.
"I was hoping you had something. Let's let him change. You two wanna step outside with me for a sec? Now, the DA's office is sending someone over to talk you through Witness Protection options."
"Today?" Foggy asks nervously, he didn't feel ready to face anyone from the District Attorney's office.
"Yeah, right now. And listen, take whatever deal they offer, okay? You don't wanna mess with this psycho." Mahoney walks up to pour himself a cup of coffee.
"So you do have a lead." Karen walks up behind you. You're eager to find out what happened to Matt, and your hand instinctively grasps the cross around your neck.
"I ever tell you what Clemons used to say? Gotta treat witnesses like mushrooms." Mahoney takes a sip, and continues, "Feed 'em shit, and keep 'em in the dark. That scum's on a need to know."
"So fill us in. Who's bankrolling this guy? Who does he work for?" Foggy leans forward to hear Mahoney better.
"The DA's office says the shooter's independent. Vigilante type, targeting different crime families. And not in a ...a Daredevil way. In a Death Wish way."
You instantly get uncomfortable upon the mention of Daredevil. Great, another vigilante. Just exactly what this city needed.
"Holy shit."
"Daredevil kicks ass, this whole city cheers like we just won the World Series. But this guy? He does it, and the streets get bloody. Makes everybody stop and think twice about the whole 'hero' proposition."
"Well, what do you think?" You ask, curious about how Mahoney feels about city's vigilantes, one in red particularly.
"The whole force is split. Some cops want him off the street, others think he's making our jobs a whole lot easier. But if you ask me, it's only a matter of time before the wrong person gets caught in the crossfire." You nod slowly to Mahoney's words, agreeing; it was a blessing just as much as it was a curse.
"Yeah, you put it that way, I guess copycats were inevitable." Foggy sighs.
"No, it's not the first, just the latest. Yeah, we call them 'Devil Worshipers.' Nutjobs inspired by the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. Shit, most of 'em are just ineffectual idiots, but this guy, in all my years on the force, I've never seen anything like him." Mahoney leaves you three standing in a complete silence.
***
"Shit, it's not an assistant, it's the actual DA." You nudge Foggy with your elbow when you notice a tall woman making her way down the corridor.
"That's Reyes?" Karen looks at the two of you confused.
"In all her defense-attorney-destroying glory. How do I look?" Foggy turns to face the two of you, adjusting his jacket and running a hand through his long hair. He desperately needed a decent haircut.
"Uh, semi-professional." Karen jokes, but Foggy's fallen face tells you that he took it to the heart. "No, Foggy, I'm kidding."
"You'll be fine." You tap him on the shoulder, fixing your slick back ponytail.
"Okay." Foggy squeezes a tight smile at you.
"Are they the ones that brought in Grote?" Reyes asks with authority in her voice, making every officer in this part of the station stop in their tracks and listen.
"Um, Franklin Nelson, of Nelson and Murdock," Foggy says with a hesitant smile as he extends his hand, but Reyes doesn't reciprocate the gesture. "This is my associate, Karen Page, and my colleague, Y/N Y/L/N," he adds, gesturing towards you with a nod of his head.
As she catches sight of you, her face lights up with recognition, eyes squinting as she looks on you, but Reyes doesn't verbally acknowledge it. Instead, she instructs the officers, "I want you to get Mr. Grote ready for transport."
"Excuse me, but, transport where, exactly?" Foggy starts panicking.
Reyes turns to her assistant, Tower, "Once he's in our custody, I want you to personally handle all the arrangements."
"Just to put it out there, our client's already given us a list of his conditions." Foggy interrupts, and you bite the inside of your cheek when Reyes makes a face at Foggy's comment; the kind of face one would use on a kindergartener who asked something as stupid as 'why people can't fly?'
"Mr. Nelson, have you ever negotiated a witness protection agreement?"
"Well, speaking for my firm, I can attest that we're all very fast learners," Foggy speaks again, and you can only watch him fall even further in her eyes.
"The District Attorney appreciates your efforts, but our office will be handling the case from here." One look from Reyes, and Tower is already kissing her butt. Typical career chaser.
"Excuse me. Grotto is our client." You insert yourself in the conversation, earning a laser-like look from Reyes, "We asked for your help, not for you to turn things around however you want, Ms Reyes."
"And it would be in Mr Grote's best interest for you to recuse yourselves so he can bring in a legal team with more expertise." Tower's eyes bore into yours.
While you two briefly engage in a staredown, Karen mutters under her breath with a slight chuckle, "You mean someone you can push around."
"We had enough expertise to handle Wilson Fisk." Foggy puffs his chest, boasting.
"I'll say this once, Mr. Nelson." Reyes begins, "If, God willing, your firm doesn't collapse under the weight of the chickens and the fruit baskets you've been collecting from your indigent clientele, there will come a time when you need to ask a favor of the District Attorney's office. And depending on how this situation resolves, that favor will either be forthcoming or permanently withheld. Am I making myself clear? "
"Of course." Foggy utters quickly, obviously crapping his pants.
"Hang on," You gesture with your hands, smiling, "so, just to wipe the dust from my quite recent Master's diploma, as someone who represents the government, Ms Reyes, you surely act biased, am I correct?" Tower and Reyes both similarly raise their eyebrows, "I mean, what's it for the government if a law firm like us with all of our fruit baskets and chickens collapses or not? What, if I was still in Hogarth, Chao and Benowitz, I wouldn't have to go through all this crap, when there's an active psycho shooter on the loose who wants to kill our client, right?"
"You know what y/n?" Foggy turns to you, hiding his grin, "I just remembered, that local DA's don't have jurisdiction over the witness protection program. That's solely determined by the U.S. Attorney's office, a.k.a. the Feds, who are probably just as douchey as you are, but at least they can deliver on their promises and their threats. Since this really isn't working out between us, maybe I should just deal with them directly."
"I happen to know a few feds actually, let me make a call-" You pull out your phone, meanwhile Reyes grasps your wrist and lowers it.
"Hang up. What do you want?"
"I'd be careful with hands, after all we're in a police station." You continue smiling, watching how Reyes's fingers leave your skin.
"As I see it, the District Attorney's office would like to receive credit for any arrests that arise from Mr. Grote's testimony. And my client, on the other hand, could definitely use the enthusiastic endorsement of the New York DA when entering in his witpro agreement. In either case, he'll be requiring legal representation, which will be provided by the law firm of Nelson and Murdock. To put it in layman's terms - cut the shit, lady. You're dealing with us." Foggy's self-confidence is going through the roof and you couldn't be any more prouder than you are right now, watching Reyes and Tower's crestfallen faces, after someone finally put them in their places.
"Oh, that was amazing!" Karen exclaims as soon as Reyes disappears out of earshot.
"That was just round one."
***
"So, what happened?" You ask Karen when she steps outside to get some fresh air and finds you sitting on a bench in front of the station, smoking.
"Uh, apparently that crazy guy with a gun is called the Punisher now." She sits next to you, exhaling loudly.
"Huh, everyone's got a fancy name now. What about Grotto?"
"Reyes wants to wire him and meet some drug dealer called Brass so they could get more on the Punisher."
"Well, shit." You sigh, watching the smoke evaporate from your cigarette into the gray sky. "It rarely ends well with the wires. That's basically a death sentence to Grotto."
"What do you mean?"
"Most of the time people with wires are not lucky because they're too nervous, sweating, avoiding eye contact or touching their chest, because the wire starts feeling itchy, and it's easy to notice, especially if a person has experience in illegal stuff. Drug dealers are very careful, mainly when it's a simple meeting, or they know that someone they're meeting has been arrested or lawyered up. It's a simple thing really, but the adrenaline of the situation is out of Grotto's control." You're met with Karen's wide eyes, so you shrug "my dad was a cop. Many failed missions."
"This can't be it, right? There has to be a solution, somehow we can turn the situation around."
"I wouldn't stress myself about someone like Grotto that much. I know how scary it must've felt in that hospital, but Grotto brought this on himself, and if that man is out for revenge, we're not gonna stop him with a simple witness protection, and neither will Reyes. She's practically using him as bait to lure the big fish."
Karen lowers her head, looking at the ground, shoulders slumped with defeat. "You're staying here?"
"Yeah, gotta talk with Mahoney. You're going back to the office? I want you to send these back to-"
You're about to reach for a folder in your briefcase, when Karen shakes her head, "Um, not really. I'm going elsewhere before, don't wanna lose the documents."
"Alright, doesn't matter," you stand up, dropping the remains of your cigarette on the ground. "See you later?"
"Yeah, probably."
You leave Karen sitting alone and slowly stroll towards the station, hopeful to not cross paths with Reyes or her puppy Tower, but it wouldn't be a fucked up day without things you dread the most coming true next to the coffee machine.
"Had a nice break, Miss Y/l/n?" Reyes asks when you come face-to-face with her in the lobby.
"Yeah, I did." You press a 'coffee with milk' button on the machine, "did you manage to fuck things up for us?"
"I would be careful with that mouth of yours, y/n." Reyes's voice becomes threateningly low.
"I'm done sugarcoating things, District Attorney. You put him on a deathbed simply because you think working with smaller firms is a waste of time. If you actually manage to catch the Punisher with our client as bait, you'd get all the glory and all the votes for the next election, right?"
"You think you can see through me, but the truth is, you can't see past your nose, y/n. I know a lot about you that might be a big push out of your seat; I mean, a client getting killed in your arms is enough to excuse you, but all the times you were involved with Daredevil?" She scoffs a low laugh, "I am keeping a close eye on you."
You swallow some harsh words, and offer a tight-lipped smile, "Glad to be such an important part of your busy life, D.A." You grab your coffee, excusing yourself from Reyes's presence before you lose your temper in a police station of all places.
***
Matt was in a state of distress as his ears were filled with a piercing, agonizing ringing sensation. The discomfort was so intense that it felt like a sharp needle was being driven into his brain while a deafening church bell reverberated in his ear simultaneously. It was an overwhelming experience to be deprived of not just one, but two of his most vital senses. While Matt had grown accustomed to living without one sense, the sudden loss of hearing felt like a terrifying nightmare. Frightening thoughts raced through his mind, with the fear that this deafness might be permanent, but just as quickly as it appeared, the feeling dissipated. Amidst the confusion and shattered glass, there was nothing else left; nothing new.
He still hasn't called you back. He kept replaying the "love you" part in his head over and over again. You must be at the station with Foggy and Karen, and he didn't want to disturb you. If anything, he'll call back in the evening, ask you to come over, and fall asleep with his head resting in your lap. Your fingers in his hair, and you, telling him about your day and how you three got Grotto into the witness protection.
Maybe that guy's bullet hit him harder than Matt initially thought. None of these events were part of Matt's plans for the evening, as he had a significant amount of Daredevil business to attend to. At times, Matt longed to establish his own identity, separate from the complexities of leading a clandestine double life. With each passing day, the persona of the devil drew Matt deeper into this vigilante shit, making it increasingly challenging for him to maintain his true self, to exist solely as Matt Murdock.
A knock on his door interrupts Matt's thoughts. He slowly navigates the corridor and, when the knocking persists, yells, "I'm coming, I'm coming."
"Hey." Karen greets first.
"Hey. Sorry, you startled me." Matt's voice is low and uncertain.
"I didn't mean to." Karen apologizes, immediately regretting her decision to come here.
"Come in."
"Uh, sure?"
"Of course." Matt lets Karen inside and closes the door. "I, uh I heard what happened."
"Yeah, I'm fine." She says, voice wavering, " No, uh, actually, I'm I'm barely holding on. I really don't enjoy being used for target practice."
"Come here." He extends an arm towards Karen's body and engulfs her in a brief hug. "I'm glad you're okay."
"How about you?"
"Uh, me, yeah, I'm fine." He lies. He's been lying too much recently.
"Hair of the dog that bit you?" Karen gently kicks a piece of broken glass, watching Matt walk towards the kitchen aisle.
"It's, uh, it's not what it looks like."
"What does it look like?" Karen is met with a stone-cold poker face and quickly apologizes. "Sorry. No, I don't mean to pry. I just... I worry about you a little bit-"
"No need. There's no need to worry."
"Yeah, you know that doesn't help, right? You, denying that there's anything wrong."
"Karen, let's not-"
"No, I... How many times can I hear that you fell down the stairs, - or you walked into a door?"
"Well, you know, I'm blind." Matt deadpans, only to be met with a counterargument.
"And you know that I'm not an idiot." Matt huffs loudly in response. "Okay, um Let's say this. When, or if, you ever feel like you can tell me what's really going on with you I promise that I'm here. Is that a deal?"
"That is a deal. Now, what can you tell me about the meeting with the DA?"
"Yeah, um, it's... Where to begin? Um. Reyes showed up." Karen sits on the sofa.
"Personally?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Any idea why?"
"Well, uh, it wasn't to bask us in the warmth of her personality, I can tell you that."
"Yeah, Reyes wouldn't buy a pack of gum if it didn't move her political career forward."
"Well, she wants him on a wire. She's got him set up for a meeting with some big fish in the mob named Brass."
"And are they gonna protect Grotto?"
"Yeah. Foggy and y/n made sure of it." Karen notices Matt's expression softening. " But he's scared shitless over this psycho shooter, Matt, and I can't say that I blame him. Reyes even used it for leverage. She called him 'the Punisher'."
"What do they know about him?"
"That he's very scary, but I could have told you that. So whatever they know about him downtown, they're keeping it to themselves."
"All right, well, that's where we start." Matt rises from his seat, making his way towards Karen, "We need to put together a file, a thorough one. Find out who this guy is, and what makes him tick."
"Great."
"You think, uh you think he's crazy?" Matt asks.
"Uh, the Punisher? No. I think he was inevitable."
"Inevitable? How so?" He draws his eyebrows together, confused.
"Maybe... maybe we created him. All of us. The moment that we let Daredevil, or the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, or whatever it is-"
"There's no connection." Matt's answer comes flying immediately, and now it's Karen who's confused.
"Well, actually, I think it's a pretty straight line, Matt. Daredevil practised vigilante justice in our backyard and we applauded him for it. I know that I did. And we never stopped to think that maybe his actions could open the door for men like this. Men with guns. Men who think that the law belongs to them."
Matt crosses his arms in defence. "There's a difference."
"Well, I don't see it. Not anymore." Karen's voice rises slightly.
"Yeah, well Daredevil never killed anyone."
"Well, not that we know of."
There's something about this city that makes good people want to shoot their way out of bad situations."
"You think this 'Punisher' could be a good person?" Matt is amazed at Karen's train of thought.
"No. No, I'm just saying he could be any one of us. I'm gonna get back to Foggy. You know he hates prepping cases alone."
"Right. What about y/n? She won't help you?" Matt makes the situation even more awkward by asking about you, but he just couldn't help himself.
"She's probably gonna still be at the station."
"What for?"
"I don't know Matt, you can just call her." Her words come out harsher than she wanted, so she quickly adds, "if you need anything at all-"
"No, I won't." He answers quickly.
"You just let us know, okay?" Karen hurries to get to the door before Matt.
"Okay, thanks. Thank you for coming around."
Karen turns around in the doorway, standing only a step away. Matt feels the change in the air and slightly backs away. "Wait, Matt, I, um... We care about you. You're worth keeping around."
Matt only nods, and Karen's high heels are already ringing in the corridor.
***
You return to the temporal station, crossing paths with Reyes in the corridor again. When you step inside, Foggy is giving a lecture to Grotto. "Whoa, who's this accordion-selling fella?" You say, noticing the ugly white shirt that Reyes gave to Grotto, causing him to grimace at your comment. "Reyes almost burned me with her laser eyes."
"This is not a deal you walk away from." Foggy ignores your blabbering and continues.
"Not alive, no." Grotto rolls his eyes.
"You get them Brass and they get you away from the psychopath hunting you." Karen adds.
"It ain't just him. What if it's Brass puts a bullet in me? What if the Irish got wind I'm doing this?"
"They didn't. When Fisk went away, so did a lot of corrupt cops. No one's palms are getting greased anymore." Karen tries to provide a little bit more comfort. "We're getting you out. Clean."
"Doesn't feel like getting out. Feels like getting in. Deeper than before."
"No, you're not. Grotto, this is your second chance."
"Just don't say anything incriminating, you'll be fine." You add from your seat, from where you were already scrolling on your phone.
"You serious? Is she serious?" Grotto panics again, and Karen is the one to calm him again.
"She's joking, don't mind her."
"You're covered. That's why we're here." Foggy waves a folder, "These are your orders for witness protection. The golden ticket."
"It's, uh, legally binding until midnight." Karen reminds Grotto.
"Upon which, if not executed, they turn into the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown." Foggy jokes, earning a chuckle from you.
"What?"
"It's time, let's go." Tower marches in to take Grotto away, giving you a dirty look.
***
"Where did he go?" You ask, watching the white shirt Grotto disappear around the corner.
"Overwatch positions, check in by the numbers." The guy in front of you says into the microphone of his headpiece, and you feel your heart sinking in.
"What exactly is an 'overwatch position'?" Foggy asks Reyes, confused.
"Let the police do their job." The latter cuts, and you rise from the chair, face already without color."
Karen walks up to Reyes's computer and pulls away her headpiece. On the other side of the wire, you can clearly hear policemen talking, "Charlie three is set. Clear fields of fire in sectors one and five. Over. Charlie four is set." Reyes puts the headphones back in, annoyed.
"You're waiting for him." You say, feeling a lump in your throat rising.
"You're using my client as bait for the Punisher?" Foggy catches up with you.
"Probably the first useful thing your client's ever done in his life." Reyes scoffs.
"Oh, I'm gonna have so much fun suing you. Whatever it is that you have planned here for tonight, it ends now. We're getting Grotto out." Foggy stands up, angry and annoyed.
"Target is inbound! Target is inbound!" A voice from Tower's walkie-talkie shouts, and on the screen, you notice a white truck speeding into the parking lot.
"It's a trap, get everyone out now!"You say, before noticing two figures fighting in the distance.
"Take the shot!" Reyes shouts while Foggy mutters 'no'.
"It's him... And daredevil." You mumble, not able to pull your eyes away from the screen. As both of them disappear, Foggy abruptly stands up and runs out, leaving you and Karen with Reyes in the room.
"Ah what the hell!" Karen exclaims, angry. You only shake your head in disappointment. What else was there left to do?
While im still trying to break my writer's block for the next chapter (which i already have half written) (also you can probably tell that DD S2 is far from my favorites lol), I've opened my asks (or is it inbox?)! Never done this before so, if anyone has literally anything to ask me/leave an anonymous comment about my fics, YOU'RE WELCOME 😁
"Hello, Brett. Again." You smile awkwardly when you reach Mahoney, Matt and Foggy, involved in a hushed conversation.
"Wow, what are you... wearing?" Foggy is the first one to ask, looking at your silk dress and high heels. The silver cross catches light from one of the police cars, and Foggy squints to see if you're really wearing it.
"Uh..." You panic, looking down at yourself. No one would believe that you were a lawyer currently standing near the crime scene, and not a model who ran away from the photoshoot. "I was on a date."
Brett eyes you as well, visibly surprised to see you in something other than your lawyer outfit he has seen earlier today. "We meet far too often, y/n."
Matt clears his throat, bringing the attention back to himself and away from you. "I called. We work as a team." Mahoney bites away another comment and waits for either of you to finish your explanation about the mystery client, who was currently in hospital with Karen.
"Client privilege." Foggy answers to Mahoney's raised eyebrows from his previous question.
"Well, uh, Mr. Nelson, if that was true... Hypothetically speaking, I'd tell you that withholding your client from the NYPD would be obstructing governmental administration, and I'd probably just arrest your ass myself." Mahoney fires back, smiling, "In theory."
"I guess we really can't help each other after all." Foggy shrugs, fixing his jacket. You notice that he has ditched his office outfit and is wearing a comfortable hoodie underneath. Surely he has been home.
"Sergeant." Matt speaks up, "Why would an Irish mobster wear body armor to a private meeting inside his own club?" This makes you furrow your eyebrows and look at Matt confused. You didn't even understand why they called you here in the first place.
"Hey! Tell 'em to keep it down in there or somebody's getting written up." Mahoney shouts to a passing colleague, annoyed. "I help you, you help me?"
"That's all we want." Matt smiles briefly, making your heart skip a beat.
"There's a total clampdown on any of this getting out to the press. I'd like to keep it that way."
"Brett, you can trust us. We're lawyers." Foggy's words win over and Brett gives in, gesturing to follow him behind a parked police van.
"Come with me over here."
"Come on." Foggy urges the two of you, slowly dragging behind.
"DA's going batshit trying to figure it out. This isn't the first hit that matches this mode of operating. Call it massive gang-on-gang overkill. Downtown office thinks we got new players in Hell's Kitchen, and whoever they are, we're talking some kind of paramilitary-type organization with the training, knowledge and hardware to take out half the city." Mahoney looks around uneasy and disturbed. The sight inside wasn't pretty, and his eyes were telling exactly that.
"What do they want?" You step closer, and together all four of you form a circle.
"That's what's driving the DA nuts. We don't know who they are. We just know who they're not."
"I'd say they're definitely not fond of the Irish." Foggy shrugs.
Matt turns his head to the side, listening to one of the officers complaining about the situation, the last sentence draws his attention. 'You think? Where exactly am I gonna put this asshole? The morgue's completely full.This is worse than what happened to the Dogs of Hell.'
"Now, we got history, so I'll tell you as a friend, you stay out of this shit. If you got a witness, the smart move is to turn him over and walk away. Hell's Kitchen is about to explode." Mahoney is about to turn on his heel to leave, but then he looks at you, "I guess the Irish didn't get to use their warehouse stock after all."
"You hear that? He called me friend." Foggy slaps a hand on Matt's back, and pulls Matt away, a couple of meters from you, leaving you standing confused.
You catch up with Mahoney, "Hey, is Paxton gonna be okay?"
Mahoney rests hands on his belt, "Listen, I can't promise anything, and especially can't promise that this won't reach the district attorney, but, we have confiscated the ammunition from that warehouse, so the kids shouldn't be too worried about a possible connection to what happened here."
"So, if you took the guns before this..." You gesture back at the club, "that means that there's another warehouse fully packed, and it belongs to whoever has it against the Irish?"
"They really didn't explain anything to you, huh?"
You laugh shortly, sighing afterward, "No, I was on a date, not working night shift just this evening."
"Well, I hope you enjoyed that free time, because it seems to me that Mr Nelson won't give the witness to us easily, so... Enjoy working, y/n, goodnight."
"Yeah." You look at the ground, in thought, "Night." Foggy shouts something and returns back to you with a quick step, and alone. "Where's Matt?" Words leave your mouth faster than you'd like, and you clear your throat uncomfortably.
"Uh, he left. Said he has to stop somewhere on his way home." Foggy smiles awkwardly, "want to grab a cab?"
"Yeah, sure." You answer, watching Matt disappear in an alley, confused. This evening has been too much and a headache was forming in the back of your head.
"So, a date?" Sly grin appears on Foggy's face, and he eyes your dress again.
"Yeah. Figured it's time to... Start dating again."
"Huh. I noticed lately..." He fixes his hair, that are fighting a battle of their own with the wind. "You've been kind of, god, what's that word... Ah, glowing!"
"Glowing?" You laugh in disbelief. "Good joke Foggy."
"No, I'm serious!" He grabs his heart, offended. "I hope he makes you happy. And is at least better than that Fisk's guy."
Your smile falls slightly, and Foggy is quick to apologize. "No, it's alright."
Halfway through the city, Foggy asks the cab to stop in front of a shady bikers' bar, urging you to get home. You don't trust that weird thing going on with Matt and Foggy, so you stop the cab around the corner and walk towards the bar, slowly, trying to not draw attention to yourself with your heels clicking on the pavement.
The bar 'Dogs of Hell' looks terrible from what you can see outside, and you can easily guess that it's just as much of a pig house inside as it is outside. Snooping around gives you no results, so you try to get as close to the bar without alerting the huge man standing guard in front. Foggy is nowhere to be seen, so you sneak around the back, watching a buff guy push Foggy into the night. They both start shouting at each other, and you see a knife's blade shine in front of Foggy's face. Instantly alert, you try to think of ways you could help Foggy. Calling for help or cops would take too long and draw attention, and just your luck, you left your pepper spray at home. Glancing around your hiding place, you notice a brick and take it. For the sake of confidence.
"Shut up!" The guy shouts, pointing the knife again. You clutch the brick close to your chest and listen intently to any dangerous words.
"I helped a guy named Pope! Yeah, the VA said that his injuries weren't sustained during battle, but they were! They just didn't manifest themselves for 20 years." Foggy stammers, his voice getting higher when he's afraid. "Uh, we got his operation sorted and then, a couple of months later, he was back on his Harley, doing whatever it is you guys do. Which is none of my business!
"You helped Pope?" The biker asks, confused. Foggy nods slowly, but the answer he gets isn't what he expected. "Get the hell out of here."
"Really? What happened to Smitty?" Who the hell was Smitty?
"You serious?" He asks in disbelief, lifting the knife again.
"I came here for a reason. I just need answers! Look, if I don't get answers, a lot of innocent blood could be shed." The guy grabs Foggy by the collar of his jacket, and you tense, ready to go save him. As stupid as it sounds. "People who both you and I care about are gonna get hurt. And you don't seem like the most sentimental guy, but you're still listening. And that knife isn't in my neck, so I have to believe that right now, maybe you and I are on the same side." Foggy rambles, his lawyer skills coming to help.
"You got guts, Harvard, I'll give you that." The guy releases Foggy, and you let out a huge sigh of relief.
"Columbia, actually, but it's not courage. It's more like sheer adrenaline." Foggy fixes his jacket, breathing a fresh air of life, "Hey, look, I wouldn't be asking, I wouldn't be here doing this if it wasn't important."
After a long pause, the biker finally answers, "Smitty was on a run, I-90 with four brothers, transporting a big score. They were hit by a goddamn army. Their whole crew was cut to pieces.
Left there like roadkill."
"Any idea who did it?"
"Nah. New crew, doesn't matter. Whoever they are, we're gonna find 'em. And when we do, you wanna be very far away from the action. You didn't hear none of this from me. Now go." He urges Foggy to leave, "And don't come back!"
Foggy hurries to get out of here as soon as possible; just as he's about to pass your hiding spot, you emerge from the bush, dropping the brick on the ground. "Jesus!" He lets out a scream, quickly covering his mouth, but then he recognizes you and in a hushed tone asks, "what the hell are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same thing!" You shout back, but before you could interrogate your friend, Foggy starts dragging you out of this street, firmly holding your forearm. "What the fuck was that, Foggy? Who was that guy? Who's Smitty? Where's Karen and who the hell is that guy that wants witness protection?"
"Too many questions, y/n, just keep going."
"Foggy!" You pull your arm out of his grip, stopping in the middle of the dark alley. "Please don't lie to me. Not you."
His eyes soften and he sighs, frustrated. He didn't want to lie to you, but he also didn't want to betray Matt. "Smitty was my classmate, but obviously he joined the Dogs of Hell. And got killed by some other gang recently. The same one that put the Irish to sleep tonight."
"Okay. Where's Karen?"
"In the hospital, with Grotto." Your raised eyebrows are enough to keep Foggy talking. "He was involved in that bar shooting, and now he wants witness protection, so he could save himself from whoever is killing everyone."
"Oh God." You close your eyes tightly, taking a deep breath.
"Although... he said that it was one man."
"One man? Is it possible? To have all the ammunition and... He has to be at least military trained." Your eyes widen, understanding just how dangerous this man is.
"Yeah, that much I figured out myself."
***
The office was quiet and empty when you came, and remained like that until you finally got a hold of Foggy somewhat before noon. You weren't complaining, obviously the silence was nice, and you finally had time to finish some leftover work papers that were pilling up for the last couple of weeks, but soon the empty office walls started to feel depressing and loneliness crept on you.
Foggy was currently monologuing with Matt when you called again, and this time he decided to answer. Matt was about to protest against it, but Foggy was already speaking, "hey, y/n, something happened?"
"Yeah, where the hell is everyone? Or is it a holiday that I've never heard of?" Your voice is stern, and Foggy visibly vinces.
"There was something... But it's alright now. Karen's supposed to be at the station now, so, could you go there and help her?"
Foggy's lying skills were beyond terrible, but you had no time to ask any more questions, since he ended the call. "What is going on in this hell-hole?" You ask yourself, walking into the tiny kitchen to make a cup of coffee before going to the station. Karen hasn't replied to any of your texts, so while waiting, you call Matt once again today. It goes to voicemail, but this time you leave a message.
"Listen, Matt, I've been calling everyone like crazy this whole morning, and since no one tells me shit or shows up to work for that matter, I'm getting really worried." You sigh heavily after a mild pause, "I hope it's not related to what I said, or didn't say during our dinner. And I hope you're not avoiding me, please, just call me back ASAP, because it's insane out there. Love you, bye." You end the message, slightly cringing at yourself for telling 'love you' on the phone, but you will get used to this, eventually.
The automatic voice tells Matt that it's the end of the voicemail, and silence settles in his living room. Foggy stares at the table, where Matt's phone was put, not a single thought in his head, whereas Matt was rubbing his forehead in shame, and pain.
"What?" Foggy finally utters, casting his eyes at Matt. "Love you? Are you two together?"
"Foggy it's n-"
"It's not? That's your excuse?"
"No! It is... We just didn't want to tell anyone." Matt sighs, sitting up. His head hurts, whole body's sore from last night's fight, he's tired, angry and hungry, and this is not what he thought was gonna happen when your call went to voicemail.
"How long?"
"More than a month."
"Does she know? About your nightly deeds?" Foggy's voice cracks, he starts pacing around the living room. "Since she's so against the devil, I'm guessing not."
"No, and I prefer to leave it that way."
"Matt. How many more lies are you gonna create?"
"Not today, Foggy, please?"
"Then when? When someone's gonna beat you up and she finds you in a pool of blood just like I did?"
"Foggy-"
"Get your head out of your butt for once, Matt. Here's your aspirin. Don't choke on it, Daredevil." Foggy hands Matt the pill and puts a glass of water on the table with force, leaving the apartment without another word.
"I almost thought I wasn't gonna make it." You admit, placing your arm on Matt's, an action that has become a habit of yours when you two were by yourselves. "Mahoney opened an active investigation, and blah blah blah."
"I feel like you're leaving all the juicy details out." Matt turns his head to your side, smiling. There's an easiness in his step, maybe he feels lighter, maybe it's because you're finally here with him after a long, lonely day in the office; maybe it's because he's so in love that it all seems silly to him.
"Don't be so greedy, Murdock." You slightly nudge his side, spotting the diner that you chose for your date. Far away from the office and Karen, and Foggy, far away from the people you might know. The street you're both walking appears rather noisy, kids kicking around a ball, music playing loudly in someone's house, an old man with a questionable taste in hats is selling tacos, and two girls are arguing at someone's doorstep.
"It's hard to not be when I'm with you." He replies, tuning out the surrounding noise.
You bite away a smile, squeezing his forearm affectionately; upon entering the diner, you're amazed by all the decorations, light bulbs in different colored jars hanging from one wall to another, the big lights dimmed to create a pleasant and cozy atmosphere for the evening, and pleasant soft music playing from the speakers. "Well, we're here."
Matt takes a deep breath, "Smells nice."
You choose the table in the farthest corner, hanging your coat on the chair, and finally sit down. Your feet were already sore from walking on the job in heels the whole day, running from one office to another in the station, but you refused to wear something more comfortable this evening; your dark red silk dress was made to be paired with the black stiletto heels.
**
"Ever played truth or dare?" You ask, cutting your steak. Matt's knife stops and he turns his head to the side, thinking. It was cute how he always tilted his head like a confused dog, as if the action somehow cleared his confusion.
"Uhh, no, I don't think so. Why?" He asks softly. You two have been chatting this and that while waiting for food, so now you wanted to keep the conversation going.
"You... Wanna play?" You bite your lip anxiously, waiting for him to turn down your suggestion and call it childish. "If you don't want, that's okay... I'm just suggesting."
"Yeah, alright, why not?" He chews his salad, thinking for a moment. "When's the last time you played this?"
"Uh... Probably during the last spring break in high school." You chuckle. "Someone dared me to steal handcuffs from my dad."
"Did you?"
"Obviously... Just haven't yet told him that it was me."
Matt smiles, biting the inside of his cheek, and you can't help but look at the way he pokes his tongue out to lick his lips. "Now, I'm not that surprised you agreed to break into Melissa's house."
"Oh, are you throwing shade on me, Murdock?" You exaggerate your fake gasp and grab your chest. The way your fingers slide on your silk dress, makes Matt suck in a sharp breath.
"I'm just, making an assumption... A very late one, too." He nervously fixes his glasses again. "Okay, so, truth or dare?" He leans forward, catching a whiff of your perfume, and picks up the fork once more.
"Let's begin with truth."
"Oh, safe choice, alright. When was your last serious relationship?"
"Checking your chances or...?" You laugh with Matt, but then get a bit more serious. "Well, I only had two of those. One was obviously Robert. Then there was another guy. And after him, I briefly got back with Robert again, but it wasn't serious that second time with him. I wasn't the same person he knew." You take a sip of your wine, continuing, "so yeah, that was at least nine years ago."
"Wow." Matt's eyebrows briefly shoot up above his glasses, lips curling downwards.
"Yeah... So, truth or dare?" You poke a salad with the fork, looking at Matt making a decision.
"I'll go with truth as well." He replies after a long minute, fingers tapping around for the knife.
"What about your past relationships?" You ask, clearing your throat. You had a rough idea of his previous flings, so you weren't surprised when he told you that he's more of a 'one-night stand guy'. It felt weird, on one hand you knew that what you had right now was serious, compared to Matt's relationship record, but it made you somewhat unease, thoughts of you being just one big distraction began creeping into your mind while he was talking. Well, you weren't any different, God knows, you two were made from the same fucked up clay; but it was what it was, and you couldn't change your past. Or Matt's for that matter.
"There was this girl while I was still in college. I think she was the only one I confessed my love to..." Matt quickly clears his throat, cheeks reddening from embarrassment. "Until I met you, of course."
"We're more similar than I thought." You say, averting your eyes from his crouched figure. It was a hard pill to swallow, but it was the truth, hard truth.
He smiles, almost guiltily. The game continues until you're both two glasses of wine in, leaning close to each other, giggling about nothing, daring to kiss each other or ask the waiter to change the radio station. The people around you change quicker than you can get used to the new faces, but you're still there, still lost in each other's perfumes, still holding hands under the table, still very much in love.
***
"So, don't you think that there's something between Matt and y/n?" Karen asks out of the blue, and the question knocks all the thoughts out of Foggy's head.
He blinks slowly, "what?", then laughs shortly, "it's a joke, right?"
They're the only one's left in the office before closing time, with you gone to the station since morning, and Matt leaving a bit earlier than usual. Karen presses the START button on the printer and it begins buzzing. "Yeah. No. I mean, I don't know." She shakes her head, blonde hair falling on her face. "Maybe I'm just imagining it, but it seemed strange, the look she gave me yesterday. When we were in the bar." Karen falls silent, realizing that she said too much already.
"What look? Karen, what happened yesterday? I thought we all had a great time together." Foggy stops packing his briefcase and looks at Karen's back, waiting for her to turn around, but she doesn't, still shielding her pink cheeks with her long hair.
"We did, yeah."
"Then what look are you talking about?" Foggy starts catching the train of Karen's thoughts and his eyes slightly widen, "Wait. You're jealous, aren't you?"
"Jealous? Foggy, don't be ridiculous." Karen blows a raspberry, but it's too late, too obvious.
"Karen..." A heavy sigh leaves Foggy's lips, and he comes to the printer, "three things. First, Matt's not the man of serious relationships, trust me, as his long time friend, I know that. Second, we all were pretty drunk last night, so you might've mistaken that 'look' you're talking about with something else, y/n said she was pretty tired, so." He puts a comforting hand on Karen's shoulder, "I just don't think that those two could be a thing. I mean, a couple of months ago they almost fought each other in court, so, don't burden yourself with these things. Or do. But it's my advice to let it go."
"Yeah, I guess you're right." She smiles, still not convinced. Foggy had no reason to lie, but something was telling her that she was right, there was something between you and Matt.
"Wanna go grab a drink?" He tries, expecting a negative answer, so that he could go visit Marci without an ache in his heart.
"Um, no, I still have a few more copies to make." Karen's tone is dismissive as she tries to hide bitterness behind her shy smile.
"Hey, don't stay up late, you know we can't pay for overtime." Foggy leaves with a huge beam on his face, while Karen's face drops as soon as the door closes.
***
Your smile. It's so beautiful. So kind and genuine. You laugh at something he says, hiding your lips with your palms, until his hands reach to pull them away from your face, and he kisses your knuckles. You were so beautiful, glowing like an angel in the dark; and so... In love? Dex couldn't tell, simply because he has never had anyone looking at him like that. It was pathetic, what he was feeling right now. Yet he couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to be in that guy's place, to have you look at him with such adoration and affection.
"Is everything alright, sir?" The waitress asks, smiling at Dex warmly. He has barely touched his food, as he was so busy with watching you. But now she was blocking his most precious view.
"Yes, it's good." He lies so terribly that the poor girl has no choice but to leave him alone.
It was a total accident, Dex didn't plan on going out tonight, or any other night for that matter, but Ray was the one to blame. He kept blabbering about this place for a week, so finally Dex decided to check what was so special about it. And when he sat down to look at the menu, he noticed you sitting with a guy in the farthest corner of the diner. At first, Dex thought that he was imagining it, but then he was positive that it was you. Your shoulders and more than half of your back were exposed, your dress was hanging on two slim straps, falling up to your ankles. He couldn't take his eyes off. Dex has only seen you in formal attires, usually a blouse, jacket and a skirt, hair almost always out of your eyes, tied up in a bun, but now, your hair was free from any ties, shining in the dim light.
Dex finally takes a bite of his food, grimacing at the coldness. Maybe he was lost in his head for too long. He notices the movement in the corner of his eye and sees the guy with red tinted glasses stand up and walk behind you, he pushes your hair to the side and puts something around your neck. The guy leans and kisses your cheek, then slowly returns back to his seat. You smile again, and bring him in for a quick kiss, touching the thing on your neck. Dex clenches his jaw, angrily poking the potato with the fork and turns his head away from the sight.
***
"I know that it's way too late now, but I just wanted to give you this." Matt says, pulling a small red box out of his jacket.
At first glance you think that it's a ring box and almost panic, but then he opens it and you notice a silver chain with a cross. An exhale, mixed with surprise leaves your lips; you touch the necklace, slightly confused, "For what?"
"Well, happy belated birthday," Matt smiles, taking the necklace from its box, "I know that it's... Not really your... Thing... I mean I overheard what you talked about God and all that in church..." Matt quickly gets flustered, and starts stuttering, while you look at him with rising interest and amusement, "It would mean a lot to me if you decide to wear it. Not that I'm pushing this... Uh... Religion thing or anything."
"Okay. I'll wear it. For you." You answer rapidly, much to his surprise.
"Thank you for ending my misery here." Matt laughs, and rises from his seat.
"It was pretty terrible." You tease, extending your arm to guide him towards you.
"Ouch."
"I mean... You're losing your attorney skills, Murdock."
"And I still convinced you in a record time." Matt's quick fingers clasp the chain, and he leans to kiss your cheek, returning to his seat like the wind.
"It's beautiful, thank you, Matt." Your hand touches his, and involuntary you notice freshly bruised knuckles, but keep your mouth shut, at least tonight.
However, you can't keep it shut entirely and begin the same old conversation about the guy you wish didn't exist in your life. As the waiter brings a tiramisu to share, you look around the diner, failing to notice Dex just by an accident of people walking to get their drinks; poking the corner of the dessert with a teaspoon, you say, "I didn't wanna talk about work tonight, but Paxton told me an interesting thing."
Matt licks the inside of the spoon and raises his eyebrows in question. He already knows what you're about to say, but still pretends to be interested. "Yeah?"
You pull your glance away from his lips, scratching your head, "He said that Daredevil saved him last night. From his friends. That's why I had to spend the whole day in the station, trust me, Mahoney will not be delighted to see me there any time soon, but that's not the point."
"So, what did he say?" He's itching to know how much did Paxton actually reveal, and to his dismay, the boy didn't hold back.
"I didn't think about until the lunch, but it's been bothering me ever since. He told me that Daredevil not only saved him, but made him promise to call me in the morning." You make a long pause to finally eat a spoon of tiramisu, while Matt feels tiny beads of sweat forming on his forehead. "It wouldn't be as weird in my books if he just saved Paxton, but I keep thinking about it and just can't figure out how he knew about Paxton having a lawyer. He's just a highschooler after all." You shrug slightly, picking up your spoon again.
"Maybe he has superhearing or something." Matt tries to joke, but your face remains serious.
"Yeah, if this guy has superhearing, then he's supposed to be called a superhero, and if he's a superhero, then I'm Queen of England." You scoff.
"How are you so sceptical? I mean, we live in a world with the Avengers as our next door neighbours."
"Yes, but we know who they are, don't we? And this guy is hiding behind a mask, so of course, he is nothing more than a criminal doing illegal activities." You notice how sour Matt's face has turned and try to save the sinking ship, "Don't tell me that you're the same as Karen."
"Karen? What's she has to do with Daredevil?" It felt weird, to finally say his other name out loud, weird, yet somewhat satisfying.
"Please, she's always defending him as if somebody's holding her at gunpoint; it was weird at first, but now it's just... Fucking creepy at this point." You take a big sip of wine and add something Matt didn't expect you to say, at least not right now. "While I'm on the Karen topic, then I might as well say this. I think she's terribly in love with you."
A laugh, mixed with a surprised "What" leaves Matt's lips.
"I mean, come on, haven't you noticed the signs? 'Matt, do you want me to read this out loud' and 'Matt, do you want me to walk you home', and let's not forget the 'Matt, where do you want to get lunch', honorable mention being last night at Josie's. I thought she was going to pull you into that dirty bathroom." You finish, amazed at your own bluntness, while Matt meets you with a sly grin and raised eyebrows.
"Are you... Jealous, y/n?" He can't help but ask, biting his lower lip seductively.
"I have a reason to be!" You lean in, and whisper-shout, "you're and your magical charm are attracting everyone in the room."
"You're so attractive when you're jealous." He blurts out unexpectedly, and you both burst out loud laughing, turning a couple of heads around you. Dex swallows his salad like a bitter pill, wishing you and this douchebag date of yours left quicker.
***
While one man was enjoying the company of a woman he was deeply in love with, in the presence of a man whose jealousy and insanity were rising with every passing minute, there also was a third man, currenly more thirsty and angry than the previously mentioned two. A man who has lost everything he loved and held close to his heart. A man thirsty for blood and revenge, a man with an impeccable aim and a never-ending arsenal of bullets. The Punisher.
a quick update to break yet another writer's block * sighs *
49. Another night in Hell's Kitchen
"Who's this fancy looking fella?" Foggy asks, taking in Matt's appearance when you two come to the office minutes before the work day begins.
"You like it?" Matt slowly spins around, showing off his new navy blue suit, paired with a dark red tie with small black dots.
"Did you sell your kidney or something to buy this? Jesus, you're making me look like a subway worker." Foggy laughs, coming to touch Matt's suit to feel the material.
"Nah, got a good deal." Matt smiles, adding, "all the glory should go to y/n, she managed to bargain a smaller price."
Your cheeks turn a light shade of pink, and you quickly turn around from Foggy and Karen to hang your coat. "The owner is a friend of my mom and well, your blindness really soothed his character."
"Wait, wait. I think I'm missing something." Foggy stands, one hand on his hips, and intently looks at the two of you. "I think I need an explanation."
"Y/n invited me for Thanksgiving dinner and we raided the shops later." Matt shrugs as if it wasn't a big deal to hang out with an employee... On a holiday. At her parent's house.
"I just couldn't let him be sullen the whole weekend while we're all away." Making way towards the kitchen for coffee, you also escape curious glances, and soon, clients start coming, pilling up in the lobby with Karen. You don't get a chance to talk with Matt until noon, as he spends most of the time with Foggy, talking to clients and running around the lobby to print documents. You, however, continue to work alone in the office until the lunch break, and just when you thought you were all going to grab a bite, and you could have a chance to smoke a cigarette or two, three loud bangs on your office door, ruin all of your plans.
***
"I'm sorry... But your son has been involved in..." you raise your eyebrows at the short-haired black woman and her 16-year-old son, "an armed robbery?"
"Yes, I've already mentioned it four times."
"Sorry, I'm a bit... Not well today. So, Paxton, could you please tell me what exactly happened? If you want to stay out of jail, I need to hear every single detail."
Paxton's mother crosses her arms, clearly unhappy with the treatment she was receiving, while Paxton was sitting on one of the armchairs, not particularly bothered by the whole situation. "Nothing. My mother is exaggerating." He shrugs, looking out through the window.
"I'm sorry, he's joking, right sweetheart?" His mother tries to gently touch his arm, but Paxton slides away as far as he can. "He told me everything last night. That's why I came here without an appointment. I noticed how many people are here, I am so glad you could take us in during your break."
"Mrs Harris..." You begin, tapping your pen on your notebook, "enough with the pleasantries. I need the details so I could tell you if I'm able to help you and Paxton. Now, please, talk."
"Remember that article a couple of weeks ago about how five men robbed a jewelry store?" She asks, casting her eyes to the ground; you give her a negative answer and wait for a more detailed explanation. "Well, Paxton was involved in it."
"What did you steal?"
"Rings, necklaces, earrings. I found a box of them in his room." She answers for Paxton.
You look at the boy, noticing a small smirk he just bit away. "What were you planning to do with them, Paxton?"
"Sell. It's all gold." He rolls his eyes.
"Why?"
"I need money." Paxton says in a hurtful tone, sending a glare towards you.
"What for?" Your question hangs in the air heavily. "Why is a teenage boy so in need of money that he must go rob a jewelry store? Tell me, do you work somewhere?"
"No, the money that I bring home is enough." Mrs Harris answers for her son once more, and you look at him in thought.
"Is it drugs, Paxton? You need more money for a dose, don't you?" He stares back at you, visibly irritated. "Is it cocaine? Or marijuana? Do you smoke with your criminal friends after school? Where'd you get the guns from?"
"Excuse me, but these are false accusations, Miss y/l/n, I-"
You hold your hand up, and continue to look right at the boy. "It is drugs. Bloodshot eyes, runny nose. You keep buying those eye drops in hopes of concealing it, but they don't work, do they?"
"Miss-"
"How do you know?" He finally asks after failing the staring contest.
"I had my fair share of experience with drug addicts. Now, if we cleared this one up, where'd you get the guns and who were your accomplices?"
"I can't tell you. I made a promise." He protests in vain.
"Addict's promise is nothing more than an empty talk. Did they threaten you?" You're met with silence and uneasiness from Mrs Harris. "Paxton, we're bound by an attorney-client privilege. Whatever you say, stays in this room. I can only advise what's best for you in court."
"No."
"I think you're lying to me."
"Yes, okay? I had to keep my mouth shut so they would give me my share." You rub your forehead in thought, when Paxton speaks up again, "we found some guns in an abandoned place, it was like a warehouse or something. We only came there to threaten the owner, but then Joey fired a shot and... We didn't want to hurt anyone."
"Did you hurt someone?"
"No, the bullet went through the display glass, but we got scared and ran away." Paxton was still restricted, but after you assured that it stays between you three, he opened up.
"Did anyone see you?"
"No, we wore masks."
"Can you tell other names? Besides Joey?"
He hesitates, cracking his fingers, afraid to meet his mother's eyes.
***
"He's agreed to help us, in exchange for a full immunity."
"Did he give any names?" Mahoney asks, flipping over the papers.
"All of them." You answer, looking over at Mrs Harris and her son, still in your office. Matt and the rest of the office returned from their lunch break, and Matt was awkwardly hanging around Karen's desk, listening to you and Mahoney talking on the phone from time to time. Karen was pushing him to get a grip and finally start taking money from the clients, rather than doing everything for free; yet he kept pushing back with the same old arguments.
"Well, I need you to come to the station, so we could take the statement, only then I can guarantee a full immunity."
"Alright, we'll see you soon, Sergeant."
***
You enter Josie's before seven, pushing through the thick crowd to the pool tables, old rock music is blaring through the speakers on full volume. Some guy almost spills his drink and starts apologizing profusely, so you quicken your step until you finally see familiar faces of Nelson and Murdock. "Apologies for the delay, Mahoney held us up." You sigh, stopping in front of the pool table to watch how Foggy misses a perfect shot.
"He likes to do that a lot." Foggy comments, trying to cover up his incredible failure.
"What happened? You were gone the whole afternoon." Matt fixes his glasses, directing his movements elsewhere, although he wanted to at least put a comforting hand on your shoulder... But not in public.
"Uh... Whiskey neat?" You ask him, snatching his drink without waiting for an answer, and when the alcohol burns your throat, finally reply, "so basically, the warehouse where the kids found guns belong to the irish, yes, yet another gang in Hell's Kitchen. And the police are on the lookout for them, but it seems that they went into hiding." You put an empty glass on the table next to you, and touch Matt's shoulder, "Next one's on me."
"Wait, so what happened to the kids?" Karen asks, sipping her own drink, which you notice to be the same brand of beer that Matt keeps buying for himself.
"We all talked, but of course, their parents weren't happy with the charges, so none of them confessed, but Paxton's on tape, and he still has the full immunity on the table."
"And the store owner?"
"He didn't recognize any of them, but he did recognize the stolen jewelry that Paxton brought with him. At least they were smart enough to wear masks, but if Mahoney pulls out a search warrant, it's over for them." You sigh, plopping on the chair nearby. "I'm dog tired and I can't believe I've walked all the way from the station here."
"Hey, it's time to relax now, we've got all gang here!" Foggy puts his hands on your shoulders and shakes, a bit too strong for your liking.
"Nelson and Murdock are finally back!" Karen lifts her bottle and cheers when Matt's shot goes right into the hole.
"That's a pretty damn good shot there, Murdock." You comment, and Matt's cheeks slightly blush. You quickly check him out, relaxed and laid back, his jacket ditched somewhere on the chair, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up and his strong arms exposed. If you could, you'd take him right here in the filthy bathroom of Josie's bar; but you can only bite your lip and wait for Josie to bring you a drink.
Matt laughs, "I only got lucky this time."
"He's been riding on that luck the whole evening, don't trust his words." Foggy comments and goes around the table to find the best position for himself again.
***
The evening goes by quickly, you've already lost the count on how many drinks you have consumed in those couple of hours, the bar is nowhere near empty, on the contrary, it only became fuller. Foggy has won two out of six rounds against Matt and has been glued to his beer ever since, apart from an occasional bathroom break, and now it was Karen v Matt in the 'grand pool battle', as Foggy called it.
Your phone vibrates and you pull it out of your purse, confused. 1 new message.
You can't help but look around the bar, before opening the message from an unknown number. Maybe Todd has come back to haunt you again?
U/N: hey, just wanted to check in, how are you?
You: sorry, who's this?
You see three dots appear and disappear multiple times, and at last, the person texts back, you quickly sober up.
U/N: It's Poindexter.
U/N: don't mean to appear like a stalker, but got your number from the case documents.
You: Oh
Dex clenches his jaw tightly, and Ray turns to look at him, clutching his phone. "You alright?"
"Yeah, yeah." Dex answers, briefly looking around where they have parked their car. Dex and Ray were on a lookout mission tonight, and after a long afternoon of contemplating, he finally gathered enough courage to text you. And your response wasn't as warm as he expected it to be.
After two long minutes, which felt like an hour to Dex, you finally started typing something. Ray side-eyed his partner with rising interest, pretty much because he has never seen him staring at his phone like that. Dex's small smirk to your message added more suspicion to the already boiling pot.
You: does this count as a part of your job, agent?
Dex: not when I'm off duty.
You: are you off duty now?
Dex: well, I guess you caught me this time.
Matt listens to the sudden liveliness of your phone, slightly confused, but then Karen appears next to him and offers to teach how to play pool 'correctly', despite the obvious fact that he's been playing with Foggy the whole evening. You watch them from behind a half empty glass of whiskey, catching the way drunken Karen allowed herself to boldly touch Matt. You shouldn't be mad or jealous... Theoretically... Because you two weren't public or official. But theory aside, you were biting your cheek to refrain from a sarcastic remark. Matt couldn't help himself but smile awkwardly when he felt Karen's fingers sliding along his arm; her closeness was too much for his liking, especially in front of you; but your attention was somewhere else already.
You: didn't think feds worked overtime. You replied cheekily, but then added, I'm ok. Thanks for asking, Dex.
Dex's response was quick, you don't know a lot about us then. I guess everything that happened was very hard for you.
You get a fresh glass of whiskey, thinking over his message. It was strange, that when your life has finally settled, weeks after Teneke's murder, Dex decided to text you. Although there was some truth in his words, it was hard, the nightmares weren't the fun part of the whole thing too... But it was all in the past now; with Matt by your side, you allowed yourself to relax and not think of all the bad things that happened in your life since your return to Hell's Kitchen.
You: it was, yeah. If we're already on this subject, how are you?
Dex: I'm good, thanks.
And he was, especially when you texted back. His smile, even though a brief one, didn't go unnoticed by Ray. Dex wanted to text something else, keep the conversation going, but his mind was blank, especially when it came to making small talk; although he was now guarded by his phone and safe from any first-hand awkwardness, Dex still didn't know how to deal with the sudden stress. But his self-pitying session got interrupted by your message, so, what are you up to right now?
So, you did care after all. Enough to not let this conversation die.
Dex: on a lookout for a bad guy, pretty boring. And you? Hopefully something more exciting.
You: in a bar, drinking my salary away with the bosses. How bad that bad guy is?
Dex: pretty bad in my opinion. Don't drink too much, you won't feel well tomorrow :)
You lock your phone and notice that Foggy and Karen were already dressed up.
"Look who's off her phone already, you missed all the fun." Foggy says, buttoning his coat up.
"You're leaving already?"
"Yeah, Karen's afraid to go home alone and I-"
"I am not!" Karen giggles, steadying herself against the pool table. Matt laughs, leaning on the pool cue and sips his beer.
"Huh, maybe I should head home as well... Just want a cigarette so bad, haven't had one the whole day." You sigh, and say your goodbyes to Foggy and Karen. The bar is still full, Josie's been running non-stop, and you think to yourself if it's always like this on a Monday night.
"That leaves just two us now, huh?" Matt says, striking the white ball into the red one.
"Isn't this just so romantic?" You laugh, walking closer to Matt, and whispering in his ear, "those shouting ones really know how to create an atmosphere...Full of sweaty bodies and that stink of cheap beer."
"I'd say this is perfect." He laughs, handing you the pool cue.
"No, I don't play."
"Come on, let me teach you."
"Really? And how will you do that?"
"With your help, of course." Matt laughs into your ear, and puts his hands around your shoulders, positioning the cue in your hands. "Now, turn where the white one is." You do that, noticing that there's a green ball right behind the white one. "And now, you strike that ball into another one, like that." He pushes the cue with quick, powerful movement, still holding your hand.
"It went in!"
"See, it's easy." He smiles, forgetting that he was gonna ask you who was texting you this late in the evening. You celebrate for a moment, but then grab Matt's hand, asking to go home. And who was Matt to refuse your ideas, when he knew how tired you were?
As you were waiting for a taxi outside, Matt was standing so close to you that you smelled his perfume mixed with all the smells of the bar even through your burning cigarette.
"Listen, I wanna ask you something, y/n." He begins, shuffling his feet on the sidewalk. "Do you... Would you like to go on a date tomorrow evening?"
"A date?" You ask again, averting your attention from the passing cars. "Matt, we've been together for like a month."
"I know, and I haven't asked you on a date once, that's on me." His warm hands found yours and squeezed affectionately, "let's go to some nice place, maybe not too expensive," you laugh and it's like music to his ears, "I would choose it myself, but unfortunately," Matt gestures to his glasses, "I'll put on my best suit, and you could put on that silk dress I helped you choose... What do you say?"
You wanted to kiss him right now and never let him out of your arms, "I have one place in mind... I just hope that it will be as romantic as Josie's."
He laughs, throwing his head back, "so, that's a yes?"
"Affirmate, Mr Murdock." You kiss him on the cheek, leaving the biggest smile on his face.
***
"Hey, I told you I'm sorry, I tried to reason with my mother to not go to that lawyer!" Paxton's voice rings in the dark alley, four dark figures hovering above him menacingly.
"So you had to tell our names to save your own ass, didn't you?" Joey asks, kicking Paxton's thigh with enough force to earn a loud cry.
"I was busted either way. She cracked me about the drugs, I can't be in jail for having drugs in my house, please!"
"You're just a pussy, Paxton. I always knew you were the weakest link." Toby says, pulling the hood off his head. "We could've sold that gold for good money and taken more guns from the warehouse, but it's all busted now. And whose fault is that?"
"Guys, please," Paxton shields his head from another kick, "I beg you, stop, I'll take everything back, I promise-"
"I don't take promises from a snitch. We should just kill you right now." Joey says, picking up a brick from the ground, and gets hit by one of Daredevil's billy clubs, which bounces off to knock out Toby. The rest of the gang look around in panic, until they notice a dark figure on one of the rooftops, and another billy club flies through the air and knocks them out as well.
"Please, please, don't kill me, Daredevil!" Paxton lies back down, keeping his hands in the air.
The devil of Hell's Kitchen lands on the ground switfly with little effort and picks up his billy clubs, agonizingly slowly stalking towards Paxton. "Call the police, call your lawyer first thing in the morning, leave no details, you understand? Drop the shady business or I won't be so nice the next time we meet." Matt rasps out, in case Paxton has heard him speaking in the office.
"Okay, okay, I'll do it, please don't hurt me anyone." Paxton cries out, holding his bruised side.
"Make the call right now, Paxton, I won't ask again."
The boy pulls out his phone, screen almost shattered from the kicks and dials the emergency number, fearfully looking at his knocked out friends and Daredevil himself, standing and looking right at him.
but anyway, you're welcome ☺ thoughts, comments are always appreciated <3
48. this might've been just a dream, right?
"You look like you've seen a ghost." He says again, a smirk playing on his lips.
"Robert? What are you doing here?" You manage to say, feeling as if your whole body has gone numb. The kitchen almost starts spinning, and you feel your blood begin to boil.
"I invited Rob, he's a part of the family." Your father says, leaving Matt alone, and comes to stand next to Robert in the kitchen. Rob. Fucking Rob. Now it was only you against them both. Exactly the way it always has been.
"Aren't you going to introduce us, y/n?" Robert asks, eyes targeting Matt, his voice as sweet as honey. You're not gonna get the authority in this house, and he knows it all too well.
"Yeah, that's Matthew Murdock. My boss." You smile wickedly, watching everyone's eyes widen. "Murdock as in Nelson and Murdock attorneys office."
Matt tries to read the room, waiting for somebody to snap, but Robert only shakes his hand, obviously swallowing some other words.
"Your boss? Y/n, what-" your mother begins, but a single glare from your dad is enough to shut her up. The atmosphere changes immediately, and Matt feels like an outsider, as if he himself was sitting as a spectator in a courtroom, a mere watcher with no real influence on the Jury's final decision.
"I'm sorry, mind if I have a few words with my daughter?" Your father says, walking out of the kitchen, sparing all the pleasantries. He doesn't need to turn back and wait for you because he knows you'll follow.
"Excuse me." You mutter, walking past Matt. He asks for someone to show a way to the bathroom, so he could listen to you and your father talk without completely blanking out in front of others. It was unfair, cheating, using his powers for not a great cause, but he just couldn't be left out in a new environment. Not when it was you and him against the world.
"What? What boss? Mind explaining something to your father?" Harold closes the doors of his bedroom, not shouting or smashing things. But this calmness was always scarier than anger.
"What's there to explain? I work elsewhere now." You sit on the bed, unfazed.
"How long?"
"Two months or so."
"Why?" Yeah, this was the spitting image of a police interrogation.
"I got tired of kissing asses, especially Benowitz's." You simply shrug, holding strong eye contact.
"You had the world under your feet there and left for what? What does he even pay you?" Apparently one look was enough to crack Matt's character and social status.
"Not nearly enough, but I don't really care about money." A steady heartbeat.
"If you think that leaving Benowitz was a great idea, you're very wrong, kid. He's gonna crush that office of yours like a boot crushes an ant." Harold's voice was still unbelievably calm. Matt sits on the closed toilet seat to listen better. "What went wrong? You liked working there."
"He wanted me to give a false statement to the Jury. I refused."
"That's it?"
"Yes." Your heart skips a beat; but you don't desire explaining every 'silly' thing that lead to your resignation. Not now.
He scoffs and a thunder-like laugh leaves his chest. "Honey, if you think that everyone who works as a lawyer is a saint, then you still don't know shit about the world."
"If you thought I was gonna let a guilty party walk freely among everyone else, then you're..." Insane. Stupid. "Wrong."
"But it's not that, is it?"
Matt stiffens, trying to locate your heartbeat again.
"It's... Love, right?" Harold asks again, noticing your pink cheeks. He could always read you like an open book. "Oh, what have I told you after the last time?" A heavy sigh escapes him.
You break the eye contact with him, looking at your feet. The mattress next to you dips, and your face is pulled into your dad's chest. "I know. But it's different. It won't be like the last time." You whisper, your shoulders rigid and unable to release the tension.
"I want to believe it. But I have a feeling that this time it will be worse."
"No, I promise."
"You don't have to promise me anything. Promise to yourself." He rubs your shoulder with the free hand, thinking over his next words. "Listen, I know that it never worked out with Robert... Although I really wish it did. But I'm not gonna press you this time."
"Who are you and what did you do to my father?" You pull away to look him in the eyes and he wipes the tears from your face.
"I want what's best for my only daughter."
Matt furrows his eyebrows. So many questions and no answers. He understood that the past is better left behind, but not knowing a lot about you was frustrating.
***
The dinner was nice. Apart from the occasional glares thrown at you and Matt from one of the three. You sat next to Matt, who was seated right across Robert, next to your father, facing you, and your mother by his side. Robert was acting like a real man should - he listened, asked questions, commented something on the game that was shown on TV; to a mere watcher, it would've looked like Robert and Matt got along just perfectly. But the tension was hanging thickly around them, as you suspected it would.
Your father was mostly silent, but when he talked, he only asked questions. Questions you didn't particularly enjoy. When you told him about the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, now crowned as Daredevil, about how the whole gang of Nelson and Murdock put the city's biggest criminal behind the bars and accidentally let it slip that you've been poisoned, your father almost choked on the apple pie. Of course, the lecture about being more cautious was inevitable, even in front of a guest, but when Matt placed his warm hand on your knee for reassurance, you felt grateful to have him here with you.
"Do you agree with this devil, Matthew?" Your mother asks, pouring herself a glass of water. You notice her hands slightly shaking. Obviously, no mother wants to hear about their child getting hurt; not even when that child is a 30-year-old lawyer.
"As a lawyer - no." Matt's voice is firm, he doesn't stutter like he did when Karen asked his opinion about the vigilante for the first time, although it wasn't nice to lie about himself. "As a citizen, a blind one too, I think he's doing a lot more good than wrong. I mean, he has saved y/n, and our secretary, more than once."
"By disobeying and breaking multiple rules." Robert speaks from behind a cup, sending you 'is this guy serious' look.
"Well, you can't have something good without a bit of bad." Matt responds, and you bite away a grin, giving Robert a glare back.
"Sounds a lot like church teaching."
"Well, I am catholic." Matt answers to Robert.
"So as a catholic, you believe in his doings?" Your mother asks again. The question hangs in the air for a while, accompanied by the sound of intense commentating on TV.
"Please, let's not involve religion at this table." You groan slightly.
"No, I wanna hear his opinion." You look at Robert threateningly, but he avoids your eyes.
"Yeah, I mean... He's not killing people... From what I've heard. Just... Beats them up and gives them to police."
"So what you're saying..." your father clears his throat, "is that police are not capable of dealing with the criminals... and they need another criminal to help them?"
Ah, the police way of talking. You knew this was coming sooner or later. Maybe bringing Matt here was a mistake.
"I usually don't doubt honest work of police officers but-"
"Fisk had at least half of the precinct paid off. I saw FBI arresting them." You help Matt, suddenly feeling the need to defend him from your family's sharp words. You two against the whole world.
"All the good men then left, I see." Harold clears his throat again, this time more embarrassed than confident, "when I was Chief Officer, anyone who was bribed was kicked out of the force... by me. Personally. I guess a lot has changed, in almost ten years."
"Why did you leave the force?" Matt risks a lot with this question, and suddenly everyone at the table tense. You gulp loudly beside Matt, panic evident in your eyes when they meet your father's tired ones. Your mother focuses on the glass of water in her hand, not making eye contact with anyone. Robert notices your eyebrow slightly twitching when you look at Camilla, something about your face now was different; you looked paler, more tired, as if these were your last moments on Earth. He knew some of it, the story, the real reason, but after the time when he asked for more details and was met with your furious father, he didn't dare to look for more details anymore. What he knew, was half of the truth, and frankly, it was enough for him. It was the same for your mother, yet she learned to be humble and silent about it.
The question hangs heavily in the air, until your father replies, "Uh, just encountered some personal... Health problems."
He's lying. Too obvious for someone who previously worked in the force. Harold's heartbeat is all over the place, loudly pounding in Matt's ears. As is yours. Something about this was not right, suspicious.
"Oh, I'm sorry." Matt sends a small apologetic smile towards your dad, his hand finding your knee under the table again. You almost flinch, but then quickly cover it up with a cough. Your skin somehow feels both hot and cold at the same time, and Matt feels the sudden tensing of your body. "If you were still a captain, none of that mess with Fisk would've ever happened."
"Don't be so sure, Matthew." Harold's voice is low, with a note of regret, "from what I've heard now, he's worked hard in the shadows to lure powerful people and built his empire from scratch. A man like this is very dangerous and hard to capture."
"But not impossible." Matt strives to bring positivity back on the table, but this appears to be impossible.
"Matthew, take no offense, but you're too catholic for your own good." Harold answers, and you know that this is his final word in this talk.
The men return from the backyard, and you can only guess what they talked about the whole time they were gone. You pass Matt in the corridor, grazing his hand with your fingers as you go and make way towards the bathroom to wash your face. A minute later, someone slips inside, and you think that it's Matt, but when you lift your head to grab a towel, you see Robert standing in the middle of the bathroom, his arms crossed on his chest.
***
You help your mother get the guest room ready, exchanging only few words. She likes Matt, admits it herself, but doesn't dare to comment anything else. Mother's intuition was telling her that you didn't bring Matt here to simply make a blind man's lonely holiday better, perhaps you wanted to introduce him as your boyfriend, but didn't dare to do so when Robert was in the house. She also liked Robert, he was almost like a son to her, visiting them ocassionally since highschool, he wasn't a rare sight in this house, but... Maybe it was time to move on. For everyone. Camilla knew that if Robert continues coming here, you'll become a rare sight. In her heart, she wanted what's best for you, her dearest daughter, but she also knew about your tough character and how easily you can break apart when you're hurt.
"Occupied."
"Well, then you should've locked the door." His voice is nonchalant, you notice that he's already changed his clothes, ditched the long sleeved shirt for an old police academy t-shirt. He looks as if he was trying to flex his biceps in front of you, but the thought of that makes you grin. Matt definitely had a stronger body than this Sheriff wannabe.
"Not my fault that there's an idiot in the house."
"Classic y/n." He scoffs, leaning on the door with his whole back. "So, this guy, a new toy of yours?"
"Do I hear jealousy, Robert?"
He ignores your question, going on a ramble, "see, this is why some people think of you as a whore, going around, playing men and then leaving them when you get bored. Even at the dinner table you two can't keep your hands to youself, huh? Are you two fucking?"
"I fuck whomever I want. And it's no concern of yours." You say, leaning on the sink.
"Have you forgotten about us? How good it felt when we were together?" He says, his back still pressed against the bathroom door, keeping the maximum distance in the small space.
"Maybe it felt good for you, but you've never even bothered to ask if it felt good for me." You bite, watching his eyes widen in shock... Or shame.
"Oh please, if someone had heard us, they would've thought that I was the best man on the planet with the way you were screaming."
"Maybe I was screaming because I disliked it? How can you know when you've always turned away to sleep or left after you were done rutting your dick into me?" You wave your hands in front of you in a dirty gesture, noticing Robert's clenched jaw.
"He's gonna break your heart. Like you did mine. I just hope the pain is even worse for you than it was for me."
"I broke your heart? Please." You scoff, crossing your arms, "when I told you about my problem, you basically vanished."
"I needed some time to think, but I still wanted you. I still do." His voice is desperate and it makes you sick.
"Oh, save it for some other poor soul, you just wanted to get me pregnant but when the doctors said that it's impossible, you threw me away like a dirty rag. That's all you wanted - to have nice little children, and not because you loved me, but because you were so obsessed with my father that you wanted a connection between the two of you!" Your voice gets louder and Robert glances at the door nervously.
"I don't need any children to have a connection with your father. I already have it." He boasts, so sure of his place in this house that if he hated you, he would have the power to banish you from here. But he didn't. Deep in his heart, there we still strong feelings for you.
"Oh, right, I forgot that you are the son he wished to have, and not me, the daughter who's whoring around every man she sees, right?" Your voice is strong, displaying years of suppressed anger and not being loved enough in your own home. "Do you know how hard it was for me to be with you after all that I went through? How your touch made me flinch? And you have the audacity to come here to my parent's house and say that you want me back? Don't you understand the reason I left you the second time?" You desperately grab onto the sink with your palms and take deep breaths.
"You said you were better, how was I supposed to read your goddamn mind?" He shouts, and suddenly you feel like you've travelled back in time, before you were even a lawyer, and were arguing about the same things with Robert.
"I said I was better because I was, the therapy was helping, but I wasn't feeling well with you around. You're just... Too similar to him."
"If you think that I'm similar to that psychopath, you're not better than him yourself."
"You-" you grab a tube of body lotion from the sink and throw it at Robert, hitting him in the chest. "Get out of my sight before I throw something sharper than this fucking lotion!"
"You will fuck this up, whatever you two have going on, it's doomed." He leaves the bathroom, closing the door loudly.
***
An hour later you're gently knocking on Matt's door, hoping to disappear from the corridor before Robert or your father see you. Robert was staying in the room next to this, and he could exit any moment. Matt opens quickly, much to your luck, a confused look on his face. Without words, he lets you inside.
"Wow, that is really dark, I gotta," you walk towards the corner of the room and turn on a lamp. Warm yellow light fills the space, and you notice Matt's slumped shoulders. "What did they even do to you?" You say with a humourless laugh, sitting at the end of the bed.
"Don't worry, we just chatted. What's up with you?" Matt tries to sound innocent, but he didn't know what to do with the information he overheard. He wanted to hug you, and never let you out of his embrace, but you had to tell everything you told Robert to him yourself.
"You want some?" You say, taking a sip of wine straight from the bottle. He doesn't answer, but sits next to you on the bed. "It's wine."
"Where'd you get that?"
"Stole from my parents. I need it more than they do." You push the bottle into Matt's hands, and watch him drink. "I truly hoped that this could be our escape from the problems and the whole Hell's Kitchen, but... I'm sorry it got ruined. By an obvious somebody." Your voice wavers with anger.
"It's alright. I got to spend more time with you." Matt shrugs, his knee resting against yours.
"Aren't you just full of positivity?" You smile, honestly, for the first time this evening. "So, how bad are the first impressions?" You drink again, not letting Matt out of your sight.
"They're good. I think your mom likes me a lot." He smiles, and you fight the urge to put your palm on his cheek. "Robert's not very talkative with me, and your dad... I think he has accepted the fact that Robert's not your boyfriend anymore."
"Ah, you know, Matt, I love your ability to see positive aspects of every shitty situation." You laugh, finally loosening up when the wine kicks in.
"You didn't tell me it was your birthday." Matt says, taking a swing from the bottle. The wine is good, not too sweet and just the right amount of sour. "Which day was it?"
"November 13th." You answer, lying on your side with your hand under your head. "I stopped celebrating a long time ago."
Matt drinks some more and puts the bottle away, lying down as well, mirroring you. "Why?"
"Got tired of all the meaningless gifts, and money. I hate when people gift money and say 'go buy whatever you want'. It just completely loses the whole birthday meaning. A gift should be something that screams 'you're on my mind' or 'this made me think of you' and not 'this is shiny and girly, I hope this will pass as a good gift'." You scoff, "One time Robert gifted me a red lipstick because he liked the color."
"Jesus, really?" Matt can't hold the laugh, and you burst out laughing as well, hiding your face in his chest. When the laughter dies, Matt's hand begins gently stroking your hair, "I would gift you the whole world if I could."
"Lying is a sin, Matthew." You smile, kissing his exposed neck. "You should be very careful with these kinds of statements. Or I might twist them around."
He lets you kiss his neck, his jaw and his chest, but the uneasiness stirring inside of him doesn't allow Matt to fully focus on you the way he'd want to. "I overheard something... You and Robert were talking."
The words make you stop and you look at him intently, panic setting in, "what exactly?"
Words get stuck in his throat, and Matt's face becomes red, embarassed. He should've just kept his mouth shut, but of course, the devil had to pull his tongue. "Something about pregnancy. I was just passing by and-"
"Oh, that." You close your eyes, bracing yourself. "I was planning to tell you this some time later. I didn't know how far will we go... Because no woman goes around telling that to the first guy in her bed... But I think you already deserve to know." You pause, feeling your own heart beating loudly in your ears, Matt puts his hand on yours for emotional support. He has heard every single word you and Robert said to each other, but he needed to hear it all from you. "I... I can't have children. I can't get pregnant, and... If you had thoughts about family, now it's perfect time for you to run away."
"I won't leave you, y/n." He squeezes your hand, reassuringly, "I... I don't care. Family, no family, I just want to be with you."
"Just please, don't be disappointed later when that honeymoon phase passes." You sigh.
"I won't. I promise." Matt seals his promise with a kiss, one full of love and adoration.
I love you.
***
The night felt like a fever dream for you and Matt. He kissed you the way he has never kissed anyone; his touch was like fire on your skin, exploring your body like he has already done many times before, but this time it was even more intimate. This wasn't just sex anymore; it was a feeling almost divine, as if your spirits were connecting and merging into one. You gripped the sheets, raked Matt's strong back with your nails, surely leaving long red marks, and welcomed his body weight on yours when you both came from the highest of all the highs - it was divine. When Matt continued to tightly hold your interlocked hands next to your head, and panted hot air into your neck, you didn't expect him to say the next words.
This was beyond the description of 'divine' and all the other words that were used to describe a feeling out of this planet. This was something else, something unreal, a thing one so madly in love longs to hear, dreams, expects and waits for... Yet is never ready when these words are said aloud.
If you didn't have to be quiet, you'd surely would have been laughing into his strong, hairy chest, pressing his body into yours a million times until you wouldn't have been able to move a single muscle. But you couldn't. So you showered Matt with kisses, feeling your lips uncomfortably tingling, and swollen, and told him the same three words back.
It was a fever dream, and you both were sick with the worst disease ever - love.
actually just got the best idea of posting next chapter on valentines day for all the singles here (myself including) ♥
also - minors do not interact !
47. All 'thanks' to the Devil
"So, what has Matt Murdock planned for the upcoming weekend?" You ask, leaving the office at almost 7 PM. The cases had you worked up until the late evening, with a shit ton of paperwork to sign and send back. The last few weeks had been hectic with courtrooms, new clients and trying not to go out of business with almost no income. All because Matt didn't want to take money from you. Or from his actual clients. You've tried to talking some sense into him, even getting Karen to help change Matt's mind, but he refused to listen. Eventually you just gave up and tried to ignore all the food that clients began bringing to the office, instead of paying with actual money. The food was good, yet it doesn't pay the electricity bills.
Matt lazily walks down the stairs after you, one hand holding onto the railling, the other carelessly swinging his briefcase. "What's happening this weekend?"
"You really don't know?" You stop on the last step and turn back to look at him, perplexed.
"No, what is it?" He stops one step above you, towering like a statue in the late evening.
"It's Thanksgiving." You lean on the railing with your elbow, just an arm's reach from Matt.
"Oh, that." He laughs, "I don't really celebrate."
"You're just weird, and not in a good way, you know that?" You huff, still looking at him from below. If Matt could see, he'd be met with your lovely doe eyes.
"Awh, you broke my heart, y/n." He teases. Those few weeks after sending Fisk to prison were almost like honeymoon - fewer criminals and more time to spend with you. Yes, he has been sneaking out at night when he heard screaming and fighting, but he always returned to you sleeping soundly in his bed. It was hard to keep up with this, the guilt Matt felt when he kissed your forehead and left the warmth of your body to put on the suit has been collecting in his heart the same way dirt collects in the bottom of a river.
"Not the first time, if I remember correctly." You say, cheekily placing your hand on his waist, just above the end of his shirt. Matt feels his breath hitch somewhere in his lungs, but the warmth from your touch calms him. "Listen, Murdock, I thought that if you're not busy, maybe you'd like to go to my parents' house for the weekend?" Your fingers hook on the loops of his trousers and tug him forward.
"To your parents' house?" There's a note of fear and doubt in his voice. He's never been away from Hell's Kitchen for long and the thought of leaving people in need alone was almost crushing.
"Yeah, you know, to celebrate Thanksgiving."
"Really? I thought you were finally going to introduce me to your parents." He smirks, hand resting on your shoulder for support. You both agreed to keep whatever was going on between you two a secret for as long as possible. Not only because of the way Karen was constantly sending Matt heart eyes, but you also didn't want to make things in the office weird, especially after Matt and Foggy called truce. And, secret romance was as exciting as winning a case. Meeting your parents would mean a new step in your relationship; one he was willing to take.
"Well that comes with the whole dinner for free package." You lean forward on your tippity toes, "and maybe breakfast, if you're good."
"I'm always good." His smile becomes even bigger when you tug at his pants again.
"One might argue." You laugh, still keeping your hand firmly on Matt's body, feeling the muscles move when he leans forward to kiss your forehead.
"Well, if one might argue, then one might decline the delicious dinner offer." He says after pulling back and feeling your hand drop. Like an animal close to catching his prey, he comes around in half-circle to stand next to you.
"Don't be a dick now." Your hands find his body again, slowly pulling him closer to you by his tie. "Let's leave this place and just forget everything. At least for a day." His face is just inches away from yours and you whisper, "I'll make sure my dad doesn't kick your ass."
"Oh, that's awesome." He huffs before you place a chaste kiss on his lips. "I might think about it." He murmurs before your lips connect again, this time more demanding. "I think I need a little more convincing." Matt smiles, playing the game with you, before you roll your eyes and kiss him again, tongue teasingly touching his lips and you pull away before he could breach his way into your mouth.
"I'll leave you to make the decision, handsome." You pull away, leaving him needy and in thought. "You better hurry, I might just leave you here."
As Matt closes the doors of your car, you lock them from the inside, much to his surprise and rising suspicion. Your hand rests on his body again, slowly getting under his jacket through the coat and stops on his chest, feeling the heartbeat speeding up. "What are you doing?" Matt asks, feeling cornered in the passenger seat.
"So, what is your answer?" You ask near his face, breathing hot air on his cheek. The air in the car was cold and the contrast made him shiver.
"You really didn't give me much time to think." He smiles, hearing you pout.
"I need to know tonight, my dad is going to the grocery store tomorrow." You kiss his cheek, dragging your lips along his jawline and stop when you reach his chin.
"That's very little time for such tough decision, y/n." He can't hide his smile when you squeeze his shoulder under all the layers and kiss him on the lips.
"I can be very convincing." Your hand drops from his shoulder and slides all the way down until you reach his crotch and can't believe that he's already half hard. "Very, very convincing." You rub your palm on him, intently watching him suck a breath through his teeth.
"Y/n, we shouldn't be doing this here." He mumbles before your tongue makes its way into his mouth, demanding and hungry. He gives into it, tasting your lips again like for the first time, finding it hard to focus on one thing with the way your hands are on him, pulling at his belt, trying to touch him as roughly as possible.
"We're alone, relax." You pull away, breathless from the kiss and using both hands, although, quite uncomfortably in this position, unzip his pants and Matt lifts up his butt so you could push his underwear almost to his mid-thighs. Your hand immediately wraps around his hard cock. He gasps instantly, feeling both relaxed and tense. "I could watch you all day." You whisper sultry in his ear and almost hypnotized look at the way your hand comes up and down, and the sight makes your stomach flip.
Matt can't say a word, mainly because there isn't a single coherent thought in his head, just your hot breath fanning against his cheek, and your hand tightly stroking his dick. You kiss the corner of his lips before your hand leaves his erection and the instant coldness makes him shiver. He almost protests, wanting you to finish what you've started but then he hears shifting on the driver's seat and slight huffing as you struggle to make yourself comfortable with those suit pants. "What are you doing?" He asks again, the same question, yet different meaning, expectations high for a different answer.
You say nothing, finally comfortable on the seat, kneeling on the left side of Matt, heels pushed against the door. You lean forward, taking Matt's cock in your hand again and licking the tip. He almost cums on the spot, hands desperately searching for something to grasp and fingers finally tighten on the door handle. "Y/n..." he mouths without sound, eyebrows tightly knitted together, his left hand slipping into your hair and subconsciously pulling at the roots. You roll your eyes and refrain from making a sound at his action and start sucking him. At first, slowly, setting a pace and he pulls your head up for a moment. The hand holding the door handle comes off and he swiftly collects all your hair and one place, making a ponytail. You appreciate the action and continue your previously interrupted activity, hot tongue moving along his veiny dick faster and faster.
The gear shift is uncomfortably pressing into your breast, creating a strange friction; a grunt leaves Matt's mouth, so filthy and so desperate, his hands starts unconsciously pressing your head further on his dick, but he's not harsh. He doesn't want you to do things that you're not comfortable with. He's not one of those guys who needs to hear women choke and gag on their dicks, what difference it would make, if your hand, playing with his balls and the base of his cock that your mouth doesn't reach, does a perfect job? Of course, if you did, he wouldn't mind, but he certainly wasn't going to make you do it.
Lost in the rhythm of your mouth, he felt himself getting closer. Light shaking in his hips told you that he didn't have long left and you pull away, licking your lips. Breath knocked out of your lungs, breasts aching with desire and need to be touched, panties most certainly wet and knees hurting - you were a mess, just as Matt was a complete mess under your touch. You glance at his lower lip, tightly trapped behind his teeth, almost to the point of being bloody and flushed face and almost stop your hand from touching yourself. Awarding him with a kiss, you push your tongue into his mouth, wanting him to taste himself on your tongue, to feel the saltiness of the precum and the absolute desire that was possessing you. Matt groans, hands not letting go of your hair and your cheek; he inhales the air of the car, everything making him even hornier, if that was possible. He knew that your wet panties were sticking to your tight suit pants and if you wiggled your butt enough, you'd most certainly would've created some friction. He felt that in the air, you wanted to ease the tension, wanted to slip your fingers and rub your clit, yet you were almost punishing yourself with the way you solely focused on pleasuring him. He knew that even if his hand slightly brushed over your breast, you'd come undone.
"So," you say, hand slowly going up and down on his dick, calmer than before, but enough to drive him over the edge. "You've thought enough now?" You kiss his cheek, over and over again, purposely avoiding his lips, waiting for his answer.
Matt laughs but doesn't say a word.
"Are you coming, Matt?" You ask, holding him tigher and he sucks a breath in, "are you coming over, honey?" You ask again, your head against his, Matt's fingers tightening around your hair and you suddenly pick up a harsh, almost punishing rhythm and try to get him off quicker, mouth watering at the sight of your hand on his big veiny dick.
Matt grunts again, this time it comes out so dirty that you roll your eyes to the back of your head but manage to keep him on the edge, so close, but not close enough. "Are you coming?" You repeat your question, this time louder, still keeping the pace, he's almost there, you know from the way he takes short breaths and furrows his eyebrows. "Answer me." You demand into his ear and he finally nods, desperate for this to end. "I want you to say it. Say it Matt, are you coming?" He knows that this question is laced with double meaning, one obvious for this current situation down his pants, and the other - the unanswered question about the dinner.
It takes approximately 5 seconds for him to finally answer, the dominance of your actions and that tone - he was a gone man. "I am, I'm coming-" words get stuck in his throat when you, finally satisfied with the answer, wrap your mouth around his cock again, taking it all in and swallowing. He lets out a guttural moan, hips rising to meet your mouth, head thrown back and chest rising with every breath that he takes.
A moment later, you finally rise up and breathe heavily, a smile dancing on your lips. "Told you that I am good at convincing."
He feels weak, tired and satisfied at the same time. Matt's hand, stretched out, looks for your face and when he finally hooks his fingers behind your ear, you are pulled into a breathless, dirty kiss. He tastes himself again, but this makes the kiss even hotter. "Too good." He whispers when you pull away, knees already tired from this position and you slide down your seat, making yourself comfortable.
The windows of your car are fogged from the inside, hot air inside contrasting with the cold wind outside. Even if someone was passing, surely nothing could've been seen. Matt shivers, remembering that he's exposed at the moment, but doesn't hurry to pull his pants up. You open your eyes that you closed just a second ago and when his hand comes to squeeze your thigh, almost touching your core. You wanted him now - either his dick or his fingers inside you, but much to your own surprise, you push his hand away. "Don't get too greedy." He smiles, and reluctantly, pulls his hand away, finally pulling his pants up.
You turn on the ignition, waiting for the windows to cool, "you'll get your piece when the time comes."
"Oh, is that soon?"
"Very soon." You say and touch his cheek with the back of hand before driving out of the parking lot.
***
Apparently 'soon' wasn't the next day. And not the day of your trip to your parents house. Matt felt slightly betrayed by the way you were giving him blue balls for two days in a row. But something told him that just the night after you dropped him off at his place and returned to yours, you definitely stuck your fingers inside of you and came, probably more than once to the fresh memory of him coming in your mouth in the front seat of your car. Just the thought of it made him feel a tingle down there and he shifted in his seat.
"Is it still cold?" You ask, noticing the slight movement in the corner of your eye and shift gears, "I'll have my dad to look over it, I swear something's wrong with the heating."
He was right. You did masturbate when you returned to your apartment, almost immediately when you dropped all your clothes on the bathroom floor and turned on the shower. He was right, you came twice.
"No." Matt answers immediately, but then thinks again. "Maybe a bit."
"I knew I wasn't imagining it." You smile briefly when you hear one of your favorite bands on the radio. Muse. Their music had you in a chokehold throughout your entire highschool and it wasn't better when Twilight came out. Although it was a bit crappy movie, the scene with Muse's song made you close your eyes at the imperfection.
"So..." Matt turns to face you, the seatbelt digging into his shoulder, "what's your dad like?"
"Are you scared?" You smirk, adjusting your hands on the wheel.
"Should I be?"
"A bit, yeah." You sigh, "everyone keeps saying that I'm a lot like him."
"So we're going to get along just fine."
You can't help but laugh, glad to stop by the red light. "Your humor is admirable, Matt, truly."
"What? Is he really that bad?" Matt smiles, slightly confused.
"If you're a man, yes. Especially if you're my man." You tap your fingers on the wheel, letting the words sink in. My man. Matt felt his heart flutter. "My ex has him wrapped around his finger. I curse the day I agreed to go to prom with him."
"Wow, then I'm up against a tough opponent."
"Yeah, believe me. What makes it worse is that Robert's a nice guy. Dealing with exes is not easy, right?" You briefly turn to look at him when the light changes to green. "What about you? Any woman I should worry about?"
"Uh... It's all in the past, so no." But Matt's words are not reassuring. Elektra. He hasn't heard from her since college, when she almost screwed up his graduation. But right now, he didn't miss Elektra at all. In fact, he didn't even think about her, when he had you, sitting by his side all the time, full of joy and life. So beautiful like a gust of wind on a hot summer's day.
"Hm." You only hum, not really feeling the need to discuss past lovers. What truly matters is the present. He's glad you're not asking questions and you fall into a comfortable silence.
***
Forty minutes later, you're already parking your car in front of your parents' house. The late November wasn't particularly grateful with daylight, and by the time you drove here, it was almost dusk. You get out of the car, inhaling full lungs of fresh air. Home. The house was still the same as you remembered, no different from the other brick houses on the street, but still so dear to you.
"Can I carry something?" Matt's soft tone brings you back from your thoughts, and you turn around to look at him.
"Only the flowers." Of course, Matt insisted on buying your mother a nice bouquet of flowers on their first meeting. A true gentleman. You grab the apple pie you baked before leaving and with one final look at the last light of the sunset, you place your hand on Matt's elbow. His grip on the flowers tightens, the swing of his white cane is quick and almost enthralling.
"Should we knock?" He asks, when his cane hits a hard wall of the house.
"I'll do it." You knock gently, but loud enough for people inside to hear. Matt hears how the TV gets muted and a shuffling of slippers comes closer and closer to them. It felt like it was just the two of you against the whole world. Both holding onto each other tightly, afraid that if someone comes in between, you both might just fall apart like ancient heroes and their lovers, destined only to suffer. The doors open just a second later-
"I can't believe my eyes." A rough voice reaches Matt's ears, and his best guess is that your dad was looking at you as if he saw a ghost. "Y/n?" He steps through the threshold, embracing you in a tight hug.
"Hi, dad." You whisper into his broad shoulder, inhaling the smell of home. He pulls away and looks at Matt in question. Your mother appears, and her smile is brighter than the whole sky. You push the pie in your dad's hands and hug her with both of your hands. The faint smell of turkey and spices reminds you of all the times you celebrated Thanksgiving with your parents... And all the times you did not.
"So glad to see my beautiful daughter, just look how she glows, look Harold, isn't she just like an angel?" You mother's fingers gently pinch your cheeks, just like they did when you were little. Her eyes dart to Matt, standing just a bit behind you, small smile on his lips. "And who's this handsome?"
"Mom, dad, this is Matt. We wanted to make a surprise, so that's why I didn't tell you about us coming here." You say, and Matt quickly understands that you lied before when you said that your dad needs to know about this before his trip to the supermarked. Clever little fox you were.
Matt extends his hand, quickly folding the white cane and pushing it under his elbow. Your father is the first one to shake hands with him, one firm grip meeting another. Harold's eyebrows shoot up a bit, from the unexpected strength from a blind man. "I'm Harold Y/l/n."
"Matt Murdock. Nice to meet you, Sir. I've heard a lot about your work in the force." Matt smiles, and your father's hand is quickly replaced by your mother's. "Mrs Y/l/n, pleasure to meet you. Y/n said that you might like these," Matt gives your mother the flowers and she sighs, delighted, "something smells very good."
"Fantastic sense of smell! I'm Camilla, and oh, the flowers are just beautiful."
You watch their interraction, somewhere deep inside afraid that this bubble of a perfect world might collapse soon. Your mother takes the flowers and turns back, urging you to go inside. "Murdock you say? I heard a thing or two about your father. One hell of a man he was." You faintly hear your dad's voice, before every bit of happiness washes away from your body when you see him standing in the kitchen, a stupid grin on his face.
You get out of your car, carrying a bag of groceries and a briefcase full of case documents. Busy with watching your step in fear of ruining your shoes, you miss the moment a dark figure emerges right in front of the main entrance to your building. "Excuse me, Miss, but I'll need you to come with me." A firm voice says and you slightly gasp.
"Who are you?" You back up into a wall, clutching your shopping bag close to your chest as a shield.
"Miss, Mr Fisk wants to have a few words with you and I need you to come with me right now." Francis replies, and when you think of running away, the other man comes to stand by your side, both wearing only dark costumes in this windy evening. You suddenly remember him - Marco.
"I'm busy, in case you haven't noticed." You glance at the camera on the building, filming every step of this scene.
"Miss, I will walk you to your flat." Marco says, much to Francis's annoyance. "No funny business."
His raised eyebrow makes you sigh, "Alright." It was best to go through this peacefully than wake up the whole building with screaming and trashing, especially when you knew that these two would easily pack you in their car as if it was nothing.
Francis goes to wait in the car and minutes later, you're walking outside with Marco holding your forearm tightly. He sits in the backseat, and you're allowed to sit in the front, next to Francis behind the wheel. Somehow, the passenger privileges did not give you much hope as to what was about to come. They didn't cover your eyes, and made you sit in the front, as if Fisk wanted you to know where he was residing. You can't keep silent and ask, "You two were close with James, weren't you?" looking straight ahead, watching the city lights go over your head.
They don't hurry to answer, and when you think that you're going to get ignored, Marco speaks up from the backseat, "He hired me." Your best guess was that he was holding a gun to your head behind that seat, in case of 'funny business'.
"I'm sorry... For the loss." You reply, folding your hands in your lap, "I'm not some heartless bitch, if you think I wasn't affected by this."
"Thank you, Miss." Marco answers again, and you begin to understand that he was the one closer to James, and Francis was closer to Fisk. Somehow, it all made perfect sense. The drive is short, and you don't recognize the place you're in. Soon, both men lead you to a huge living room, and you see Fisk sitting on one of the small sofas placed around a coffee table. The place looks modernistic, yet reeks off sickening luxury. You notice a couple of familiar paintings on the walls and recall seeing them in Vanessa's exhibition. Of course, you scoff to yourself.
Fisk clears his throat, noticing you looking around. "Nice, isn't it?"
You tear your eyes away from the interior of the place and meet Fisk's eyes. "What do you want?"
"Straight to the matter, my kind of person." Fisk stands up with an effort and offers you his hand to shake. You look at it, stretched over the clear glass table, with visible disgust, but don't move a single muscle. After another moment of hanging in the air, Fisk finally takes his hand back. "Alright. Please, sit down, I prepared some tea, if you want."
You look at the cup on your side, and don't even think of drinking whatever was in there, but take a seat. That's the least you allowed yourself to do here.
"Not very talkative today, right? I believe all these new clients are really tiring for such a small company." He notices the glint in your eyes, as if you wanted to ask a question. "Even a man, such as myself, allows himself to read the local newspaper sometimes. I've noticed you've become quite a star."
"Get over this, what do you want?" You clench your jaw tightly.
"I think that, and I speak for the majority of the public of this city, you and that Devil became quite a pair." He's testing the waters, pressing your buttons, in order for you to make a scene.
"We're not a pair." You cut shortly.
"Yet, you both appear on the same side of the story." He takes a sip of his tea, the small cup looks like a toy in his big hand.
"I want nothing to do with that criminal. For me, you and him are on the same side."
"I don't work with criminals like him." Fisk says, and that almost makes you laugh.
"Yeah, right. Well, then it's between the two of you. I'll be on my way-" you shuffle on the sofa and Fisk's voice roars in the room.
"I can offer you protection."
"I don't need protection." You sit back, eyeing Francis in the corner of your eye.
"You may not feel the desire for it now, but in time, you'll look back at this moment, and wish you'd agreed. I can protect you from the media, from the Devil of Hell's Kitchen... And from the unwanted attention you might receive when the truth comes out... About certain things from your past."
"Are you threatening me?" You say calmly, although Fisk takes notice of your voice wavering.
"I am simply talking, offering... A job. It is your choice to accept... Or refuse. But you will feel the consequences of your actions."
"As will you. Although, yours will come haunting you sooner than mine."
"I believe that Wesley has let it slip about my offer before I could speak to you myself." Fisk ignores your last comment and takes another sip from the teacup.
"You know that a case is being built up against you, and you want me to defend you in court, don't you?" He nods, and you can't help but ask, "Why me? You could buy any other lawyer in the States like you bought the whole police station."
"Sometimes money isn't everything. Sometimes power comes from knowledge. I happen to know a lot."
"That sounds a lot like a threat."
Fisk only offers a small grin, but then his face becomes serious again, he turns away from the topic, "It is unfortunate that James was selected as the target to hurt me. I don't wish for that to happen to you as well."
"How did he die?" You just can't stop your curiousity, your thoughts often wandering to imagine what kind of death took Wesley's life.
"Seven shots through his chest." His face is hard, angry.
A chill goes down your spine. "Who did it?"
"That is not your concern anymore, y/n." Fisk folds his hands in front of him. "I can tell from your face that it wasn't you."
"Wesley's death is of no benefit to me." You stare at him, and the slightest nod of his head confirms that he agrees with your statement.
"I know. I was also aware... Of how close you and James became in such a short period of time." A twitch of his eyebrows made you even more curious. "When I sent James with the task of... drawing you to our side... I did not anticipate of how quickly you will wrap him in your charms... Or how unwavering you'd turn out to be." Fisk continues, carefully choosing his words, "I think that this was more... My mistake than his. But I guess love makes everyone do all sorts of things." Fisk finally lifts his eyes from the ground and notices a hard look on your face. "I believe you know this better than all of us, don't you, y/n?"
Fisk's eyes are piercing through your skull, he knows more than you'd want him to know. There's no point in lying when he has already openly threatened you. "What happened in my past, is no concern of yours, Wilson." You watch him slightly wince at the mention of his first name. Good. If he was saying yours, you could only respond with the same. "And if you think that your little show of gratitude and care will soften me enough to join you, you're wrong. Now tell me... Are you frightened?"
He stays silent, only his eyes betray that he's starting to boil inside, especially when you took control of the conversation.
"You knew that this day will come, didn't you? That's why you wanted to offer me the dirty work of cleaning up after every legal mess you left? I don't know how in the world you thought that me, the daughter of a police chief, would agree to work for a criminal such as yourself." You laugh, the irony is just too much to take, "you knew that one day all the loose ends will be tied, and you'll have to face justice, right? I bet you didn't think it's going to be some rookies from a small office, not big enough for four people to have separate rooms, who would put you in a corner." He doesn't respond, and you offer a small smile of pity, "It would be wise to admit your doings. Maybe the jury will take a pity on a poor boy who killed his father." You rise from the sofa, waiting for Fisk to protest your departure, but as he remains silent, you push past Francis and Marco, who hesitate to let you through at first, but after a single flick of Fisk's fingers, allow you to leave.
***
"What?" You stop by your car, keys hanging on your middle finger, and increase the volume on your phone. "You're kidding, right?"
"No, we got him, come to the station, he's going to confess soon." Matt sighs with relief on the other side of the phone, then adds, "I want you to be here with us."
"I... I'm on my way, just five minutes, and I'll be there."
The city was strangely empty with uneasiness, no traffic or people hurrying to work. You felt anxiety building up inside of you, especially after Fisk's threat. He's not the kind of guy to let things go easily. You park somewhere you shouldn't park, next to the station, which was full of cars and officers running around. Stepping inside, you almost collide with one officer and he apologizes, but then stops, recognizing you, "Miss y/l/n, hi!"
"Officer..." you look at his name tag again, just like the first time, when you questioned him about Tully. "Wright... Harry! Hello." You smile at the blonde man, a bit surprised.
"Hey, you remembered! Sorry, I'd love to talk more but we have this guy here, he's about to say something, I gotta go!"
"Wait, is it Hoffman? I'm going there too."
"Really? Well, then let's go, I'll accompany you." Harry starts surfing through the crowd, taking long strides, and you were glad that you put on ankle boots rather than high heels and managed to not lose him in the maze of corridors. "Here, I'm not supposed to go inside." He stops by the closed door and you only nod to him before Karen opens the door and quickly pulls you inside.
She lets go of your wrist and hurries back to the table, where you notice Mahoney, two other officers, Hoffman, Matt and Foggy sitting before a small pile of papers, and a camera, ready to start recording and three more people sitting on the opposite side of the table. You stay close to the door, not wanting to cause more ruckus by sitting with the crew, or earning more side glances from the officers.
Foggy begins, noticing that the camera was already recording, "As we stated on the phone, our client is willing to be placed in protective custody and waive all considerations for immunity."
Wait. Our client? How much did you miss?
"In exchange for what?" The woman in the middle asks, solely focusing on Foggy, but Matt answers instead.
"Nothing. Detective Hoffman regrets his involvement in Wilson Fisk's criminal enterprise and seeks only to unburden himself in the eyes of God and the state of New York. Detective?"
"I've taken money, a lot of money, to do things for - For Fisk. I'm not the only one. There's cops, lawyers, judges... At least one senator I know of."
Your heart skips a beat. Did Fisk tell him about the plan to get you to work for him?
"Start from the beginning. Names, dates, I want it all." The woman orders, clicking her pen.
"My partner and I were first approached by a man working for Wilson Fisk 18 months ago." Wesley. Even dead, he couldn't escape justice.
***
After the absolute rollercoaster of information, you step out into the corridor and see a group of men with FBI jackets forcing their way into the station, grabbing some of the officers and pushing them out. You notice Harry looking around with panic in his eyes and one of the FBI agents grabs him by the elbow. Harry turns back to say something to you, perhaps to apologize, but you can only look at him with wide eyes, full of betrayal.
Someone taps your shoulder, and for a second you think you're going to get carried out too, but then you see a familiar tall figure. "Hello, you."
"Dex? You're here too?" You sigh with relief.
"Yeah, I'm here to take you." He says with a serious face.
"What?"
A laugh leaves his lips, "Sorry, I'm joking, y/n. You should've seen your face." He crosses his arms on his chest, and you take notice of his biceps popping out under the jacket.
"I've been in there during the whole confession and still fell for it." You laugh a little, "Busy day for you guys, huh?"
"Honestly, the best day. Listen, I have to go, so... Don't get dragged out with the rest of these scumbags." He puts a hand on your shoulder, gently squeezing it. You don't respond, but get a feeling that he enjoyed the slight touch more than you did. Dex disappears behind the corner and you sigh again, resting your back against the cold wall.
***
"No, Foggy, I'm not drinking in the broad daylight!" You push away a full glass of champagne once again and lean back in your chair, it was starting to get dark, but you refused the drink simply because you were driving. "So it was you who found that building where Hoffman was hiding?" You turn to your left to look at Karen, and she nods, eyes bright, her skin flushed pink from laughing and drinking. If you counted correctly, it was her 3rd full glass in the last half an hour.
Karen puts a strand of her hair behind her ear and smiles at her last night's finding. "Yeah, I was... I couldn't sleep so started reading all the papers that we had and when I thought I was going to fall asleep without anything, I found it."
"Yeah, I still don't understand how did Hoffman willingly go to confess." You scruch your nose at the acidic smell of champagne when Foggy spills half of the glass on the table.
"I told Matt and Foggy about what I found and... Matt said that..." Her pink cheeks suddenly redden, "he was approached by the man in the mask."
"Oh." You say, both surprised and disappointed for being left out in such a big breakthrough. "So, if I understand it correctly, you and the Devil worked together on this case... Did he beat up Hoffman into confessing? He looked pretty... under the weather."
"Hey, it's done what it's done, Fisk is going to jail, that's all that matters." Foggy says, clearly already affected by the alcohol. "Marci has helped too, big time. God bless Marci and her designer pumps." He drinks again, and you almost cringe at the last comment.
Matt listens to your heartbeat, but it's so out of place that it makes him confused.
"Okay, so if we're... sharing secrets in this circle..." you clear your throat, "because well, apparently this was your secret. I met with Fisk yesterday."
"What?" All three of them ask in a chorus, all eyes on you.
"Yeah. Thought I'd keep this to myself, but since we're so honest now... He asked me to work for him. Again. He knew that he was going to prison, so, naturally, he needed a lawyer for the appeal of the decision."
"What do you mean again?" Karen asks, looking at you as if you did the biggest crime known to a man.
"Wesley let it slip that Fisk wants to have me, but he didn't tell why." Matt and Foggy already knew about it, so this didn't shock them as much as it did Karen. "Turns out this whole 'romance' was just a way to sway me to their side. I refused then, I refused last night again. He... Didn't look scared, or didn't flee the country for that matter." You slightly shake your head, eyes sliding to the computer screen, where the news channel was showing them pushing Fisk into an FBI van.
"He's an idiot then, he's going to lose everything and rot his life in jail." Foggy scoffs, finishing the remaining champagne.
"A man who's about to lose everything isn't so calm." You say after a moment of silence. "Trust me, I've seen it in court, more than once. I have a feeling that he has a backup plan. Someone who's been building his empire in secret for so long just can't go away so easily."
Karen puts a hand on your palm, gently squeezing. "I'm sorry. For everything."
***
"Matt, where are you going, let me take you home!" You shout, hurrying down the stairs to catch up with him, Foggy and Karen following you a bit slower.
"I'll grab a cab, it's fine, you drive out of here quicker before the traffic begins." He responds, disappearing out through the exit door before you can stop him.
"Ass!" You shout when the doors slam, and turn around, "anyone need a lift? It will be quicker than getting a cab now."
"No, I live on the other side of the town," Karen walks right past you and Foggy looks apologetically, "I'm going to Marci's, sorry."
He disappears in the street as well, and you notice how he catches up to say something to Matt, both of them almost arguing, and then Matt catches a cab. You shake your head, and hurry to your car, before someone accidentally scratched it. After Fisk's play with the FBI and his grand escape, the whole city fell into a frenzy, everyone hurrying to either take cover, or go see the last dance of the fallen 'hero' of Hell's Kitchen.
***
"Daredevil?" You ask again, as Karen reads the newspaper headline.
"Yeah, daredevil." She confirms, turning to show you the newspaper.
"Oh, another fancy first page for the devil." You blow a cloud of smoke and laugh a little. It was a relief to know that Fisk was finally where he belonged. Finally with no backup plans. Justice was best served cold.
"Sounds like he's gonna jump Snake River Canyon on his rocket cycle." Foggy laughs, trying to make the sign of 'Nelson and Murdock Attorneys at Law' straighter.
"It kinda does, doesn't it?" Matt nudges your elbow and you silently pass the cigarette.
"Okay, okay. I thought it was a bit goofy at first, but it kinda grows on you. And it's better than the Devil of Hell's Kitchen anyway." Karen responds, giving Matt a disapproving look.
"Not wrong there." He gives you the cigarette back, pushing his hands into the pockets of his coat.
"I cannot believe this is the same guy that stopped that Union Allied nut from stabbing me in my apartment. That is a serious upgrade." Karen says and steps further way to look at the sign.
"I don't know, I think the horns are a bit much." Foggy comments, looking at the sign as well.
"Although I still think he's an asshole, I kind of owe him for saving my life. More than once." You say, exhaling the last smoke and drop the cigarette on the ground.
"Wow, today truly is a great day." Foggy teases, and finally shows you what he's been working on for the last fifteen minutes. "Well?"
"Looks great!"
Matt steps closer to the wall, with Foggy's help, and you watch how his fingers trace the letters. "Nelson and Murdock. Avocados at law."
"Avocados?" You and Karen ask at the same time, looking at the two men laugh. This is what Nelson and Murdock is about - friendship. You no longer feel the same ache you felt when you left LA and Pug behind to return to Hell's Kitchen, no, it was different. Everything was different now. New feelings, new friendships, new people, but still the same desire to serve Lady Justice. You can't stop your lips from twitching into a smile.
"It's a long story. Which I do not have time to tell you. Promised Marci I'd help her find a new job since most of the partners at Landman and Zack are under indictment." Foggy puts a firm hand on Matt's shoulder and they hug.
"Oh? You two getting back together?" Karen asks, although you had your suspicions about them being back together for a while now.
"No. I don't know. Maybe." Foggy comes and hugs you, which takes you by surprise, and Karen too.
"Well, thank her for us. For everything she did helping bring Fisk down."
"Fisk still needs to go to trial. Just getting a court date on a case this big could take a year." Foggy shrugs and fixes his jacket.
Karen's face shows surprise and it makes you smile at her lack of legal knowledge. "That long?"
"He's where he belongs, that's all that matters. And we put him there." Matt comes closer, hand searching in the air to grab your elbow. You relax under his touch and let yourself finally enjoy the sun and the slight breeze.
"Alright, gotta go, see you, partners!" Foggy hurries away, leaving you, Karen and Matt on the street. Suddenly your phone rings and you excuse yourself.
"Hey, Karen." Matt begins, turning in Karen's direction.
"Yeah?"
"There's been something in your voice. It's been there for a while now. I thought whatever it was, whatever's been, I thought it would get better once Fisk was put away, but it hasn't, has it?" He asks softly, eyebrows twitching ever so lightly.
Karen feels tears collecting in her eyes, but quickly blinks them away. "We put him away, yeah but it won't bring back Elena or Ben or erase what we've been through, or what we've had to do to get here."
"Yeah. A lot of decisions I'd give anything to go back and change. But I can't. None of us can. It's like I told Foggy, all we can do is move forward together." Matt extends his hand and squeezes Karen's in a reassuring manner.
AN: woow, big chapter, lots of talking and problem solving! some spicy moments, so please, minors, do not interact!
45. not the best lawyer, but a goddamn good criminal
"We'll reach out to you soon, Miss, as soon as we get an answer from the court about the deal you're suggesting." You steal a glance at Matt, he's been talking on the phone for about 20 minutes, too. "Yes, Miss, your case is our top priority, but now everything depends on..." You roll your eyes when the middle-aged woman interrupts you again, "yes, I'll call you, personally... Yes, have a great day."
"I'm sure everything will be alright, Mr Dunway, I assure you, you're in good hands. We'll meet you exactly at 8 o'clock on Monday. Yes, safe travels, Mr Dunway." Matt says, smiling at something the man said on the other side of the phone call. You notice the dimples on his cheeks and barely noticeable crows feet under his eyes when he flashes his teeth. With one last nod, although it obviously went unseen during this talk, Matt puts his phone down, lifting his head towards you, "Wow, he really likes to talk."
"You should be glad it was only a phone call." You smile back, "he won't let you rest when he comes here."
"Is Margaret gonna let you rest?" Matt fixes his glasses with a single push, and rests his head on the palm of his hand. "I heard something about 'top priority'."
"Every case is our top priority, boss," the slight change in your voice sent shivers down Matt's spine, and as much as he hated to admit, he felt a bit of blood rush to his dick. "I'm surprised that she didn't chicken out when I introduced myself. That woman sounds like she's a fan of Bulletin."
"Alright, Sherlock Holmes," Matt chuckles, "if you can guess what she's a fan of only by hearing her voice..." his voice gets lower, despite the closed doors of your office and phones going off non-stop the whole morning, "then could you guess what's on my mind?"
"Why? Are you afraid that I have finally discovered my superpowers?" You also lower your voice, slowly brushing your high heel along Matt's leg under the tables. "I'm guessing..." you begin, watching how Matt, not expecting your sudden touch, slightly jumps in his seat, "that you have some dirty things on your mind... Things that shouldn't be talked about in the workplace."
Matt fidgets, as if trying to create more friction for himself, when your foot travels up to his knee, but he quickly grabs it, keeping it in place. You slightly gasp, afraid that Karen might see you through the half-closed curtains, but then you lower your head, pretending to write something in your notes. Matt feels your pulse quicken, your skin suddenly feels hotter than it was before, and he lessens his grasp on your foot, letting his fingers slowly slide on your skin. "I think you should do whatever your boss asks you to do, y/n." Matt's fingers gently push your foot off his knee and it lands with a soft thud. "I won't ask for an explanation next time. "
"You-" you shut up when someone opens the door and stops. Turning to look back, you notice Foggy standing with an open folder in the doorway, looking at the two of you with a raised eyebrow.
"Am I interrupting something?" Foggy asks, and you feel your cheeks turning red again. "Are you sick or something? It looks like you might have temperature."
"What? No, I was just..." You stumble on your words slightly, "on this long phone call, I got a bit frustrated, that's it."
"You know, I have to apologize, y/n." Foggy begins, briefly looking at his feet. You raise your eyebrows, waiting. "I was an asshole earlier, when you saved the firm's ass with all these new clients, the ad in the newspaper is doing numbers, I..." You suddenly feel shyness creep on your cheeks, a warm feeling in your chest. Matt, on the other hand, tries to make himself as invisible as possible, still angry with Foggy. "I'm really sorry about everything that happened with that glasses guy and Fisk, trust me, if I could, I'd go beat them up, and the devil too, because you deserve so much better."
"I... Wow, I don't know what to say, I'm just doing my job, Foggy, I want us to be a successful company as much as you do, although, you two need to stop acting like donkeys and make a truce at last." You clear your throat, "Wesley's dead, so unless you want to beat up a corpse, I won't stop you."
"What? Fisk's right hand is dead?" Foggy sits on one of the two armchairs, thinking for a moment. "That means he's vulnerable and might let something slip. We can finally put him behind bars."
You briefly glance at Matt, but get no response. "I feel like you're hiding something." You say to Foggy, noticing how his eyes widened a bit. "If you still want to build a case against Fisk, you two have to have at least one real piece of evidence, but even without Wesley, he has more people working for him... There was this guy with white hair at the Gala. I don't remember much but he was acting strange."
"Strange how?" This time the question comes from Matt.
"I don't know, but he looked like he was anxious, or waiting for something, he was almost all over the place, kept interrupting Fisk, but... If he wasn't something important, I'm sure he would've gotten a word from James."
"White hair?" Foggy rubs his forehead for a moment, "hey, wasn't there a guy when Fisk went public with him?"
"Don't remember." You say shortly, and Matt understands the reason why - Wesley.
"Wait... he was the accountant or something-" Foggy stops when someone slams the main door of the office loudly.
Karen barges in, breathing heavily, "Ben's dead."
***
As Matt leaves with Karen to attend Urich's funeral, you and Foggy stay in the office to receive new clients and potential cases, but as soon as it hits noon, the place quiets down. "Hey, partner." You slide onto one of the chairs in front of Foggy's desk and hand him a cup of freshly brewed hot coffee.
"Busy day, huh? Never thought I'd have to experience this when we got license to open our firm." Foggy pulls away from his computer and takes a good look at you. "You seem tired, maybe you should head home early today."
"Don't really feel like rotting away at home." A heavy sigh leaves your lips and you rub your forehead, "if it wasn't for that crazy masked guy, I'd say we all just leave the city for the weekend, drive to a casino and just gamble all our money away."
"I'm bad at gambling. One time I lost a bet to my brother and had to run around the house naked three times." Foggy laughs and you break into a small smile.
"Is it fun? Growing up with siblings?"
"It's a pain in the ass, but as you get older, you begin to understand just how lucky you are to have them in your life." Foggy shrugs, "you're an only child, yeah?"
"Yeah, maybe it's alright, the world would not have survived two y/l/ns in the same city, let alone under the same roof." You think for a moment, "Pug has always been like a brother to me, sometimes I wish I met him earlier, maybe I would've ended somewhere else.
"You said he's also a lawyer?"
"Yeah, he keeps trying to talk me into moving back to LA... But it's just... Too fancy for me."
"Too fancy? You're like the closest richest person I know, y/n!" Foggy leans back, putting his cup on one of the shelves behind him.
"More than half of my money, actually being my dad's money, doesn't really make me a rich person. I don't like showing it off, because eventually, money is all people see you as - a giant 100 dollar bill with long legs." You slightly scoff, "hell, I've been driving my dad's old car for as long as I remember."
"Okay, maybe not the richest, but pretty rich nonetheless." Foggy sits in thought, then asks, "How are you and Matt getting together?" Before you can control your facial expressions, your eyebrows slightly shoot up, but Foggy doesn't notice and continues, "I mean, when we got our first cases against your clients, I thought that he was going to completely lose it from the anger that you were just a better attorney, but now you two are sitting all day in the same room and... It's safe to say that I was expecting to find the place wrecked one day."
"Fighting? You really thought that after I left Benowitz and you took me in, offered me a job and kept my legal reputation as clean as possible, that I would be fighting with Matt?" You try your best to act innocent and surprised, but not too much to avoid suspicion.
"Well, to be fair, you almost got into a fight with Karen..."
"That's totally different, and what, you expect me to start throwing punches around?" You can't help but laugh a little.
Foggy takes the note of the lighter mood and continues, "You know, sometimes I'm scared of you, after all, your father was a police officer, I'm sure you have some tricks under your sleeve."
"You wanna see them?" You put your hands up in a fighting manner and crack up.
"No, God no, I want to continue living my peaceful life... Preferably with fewer criminals like Fisk and that Devil."
"Me and Matt..." You say, instead of reacting to the mentioning of the Devil, "I don't know, I guess our brooding days don't match, so we're okay with not ripping each other's throats." You shrug, hoping that this threw Foggy off potential tracks that might lead to more suspicion.
"That's good, for business, I mean."
***
"How are you holding up?" Father Lantom asks Matt after most of the people left Urich's funeral.
"Like a good Catholic boy." Matt doesn't smile or grin, indicating that his joke was pure sarcasm.
"That bad, huh?"
"He was a good man. And he's gone because I haven't stopped what's happening to this city."
"Can't put that on yourself, Matthew. You've done everything you can. A lot you probably shouldn't have." Father puts a hand on Matt's shoulder, trying to somehow get him into thinking more clearly.
"And here we are." Matt's response is cold. He hated funerals. The smell was...well, terrible, lots of crying and nose-sniffling around him made his head spin and the situation made him turn his guard down.
"Matthew, maybe you should stop by for a talk? Sometime soon?" Father's voice is calm but strong, and Matt knew that he wasn't suggesting a simple meeting.
"Sorry, Father, I have lots of work to do."
"Yeah, that's what I'm most afraid of, Matthew." Father notices Karen walking towards them and quickly says, "treat her right okay, she's been through a lot."
"Who?"
"You know who. See you soon." Father leaves Matt standing in the wind with his coat open and flying around his thighs, until Karen finally approaches him and they leave the graveyard.
***
You see Matt and Karen return, but don't make a single move out of Foggy's office, just follow them through the open curtains, talking with an elderly man about the changes of his will. Matt lingers next to the clothes hanger and you notice his sour face before he disappears further into the office.
"He just stood there, like he was his friend. Like he had nothing to do with what happened." Karen speaks as soon as Matt comes towards her table.
Matt tunes you and Foggy out, feeling that he should be more sympathetic to Karen. "I thought Ben said he didn't have any evidence Ellison was taking money from Fisk."
"No, but it makes sense. I mean, it explains Do you know what makes this worse? Foggy. Didn't even think about going with us."
"I think he stated it clearly that he'd rather stay here and work with y/n." Matt says with a hidden note of 'I couldn't care less' attitude.
"He knew Ben too, but then he'd rather work than come to his funeral?" Karen rolls her eyes, desperately trying to find somebody to blame.
"It's my fault, Karen. All of this with Foggy." Matt says, lingering near his office door, but not going inside, because without you there, it was just an empty, soul-sucking place.
"No, everyone shares the blame in a relationship. That's just the way that it works. We all made mistakes."
"No, not always. Why don't you go home, get some rest, huh?" He asks, softly, but Karen lights up like a candle.
"I can't. Every time I close my eyes, I see... What if he finds out that I...That I was with Ben at Saint Benezet. What if he finds out that I spoke to his mother too?" Karen sighs heavily after maneuvering her response out of potential trouble.
"If that happens, we will deal with it." Matt's voice is soft, but reassuring.
"How? I mean, the news barely mentioned what happened to Ben because Fisk pays off the media. And the police haven't arrested anyone for it because Fisk pays them off, too. Foggy was right. How do you stop someone like that, someone who has so much?"
"It just means he has more to lose."
"He's gonna find out what I did and he's gonna come after me just like he came after Ben." Karen closes her eyes and takes deep breath in hopes of stopping herself from crying.
"I told you I would keep you safe, Karen, when he came after you over Union Allied. That hasn't changed. Everyone that's taken money from him, everyone that's helped him tear this city apart they're all gonna get what's coming to them along with Wilson Fisk."
You walk out of Foggy's office, carrying a bunch of documents in your left hand and helping the old man to walk with your right one. Sparing a single glance to Karen's desk, you can only make yourself to turn your lips into a polite smile and walk out of the office down the stairs with the man. Matt thinks for a moment, then grabs his coat from the hanger and leaves without saying a word to Karen.
You catch a taxi for Stanley and bid him farewell, reassuring that the consultation was free and stop on the corner of the building to smoke a cigarette. "You're gonna catch a cold." Matt emerges from another corner and stops next to you, hands hidden in the pockets of his coat.
"Jesus, you scared me, Matt." You gasp slightly and almost playfully punch his arm. "How'd you know where I was?"
"That stink I could smell before opening the doors." He points somewhere where your cigarette was supposed to be and smiles when you chuckle. "Here." You watch him take off his coat and put around your shoulders, and despite your protests, Matt stands in the wind only with his jacket.
"Don't be crazy, come here." You briefly look around, making sure that there's no one in the street and pull onto Matt's sleeve to make him stand a bit closer. "How'd it go?"
"As good as these kind of things go, I suppose." Matt inhales the smoke that you just breathed out and you notice this.
"Take a puff when I put it next to your lips." You say, stopping Matt's hands from moving from your hips where he was keeping them warm. "No hands." You say softly, guiding your almost burned out cigarette to Matt's half open lips, and watch how he inhales the smoke.
He exhales a moment later alongside with a heavy sigh. "You're a bad influence on me."
"We could argue about that." You smile to yourself when his grasp on you tightens. "Come on, let's go inside."
Matt pulls away, although reluctantly. He knew that he couldn't stay tonight at your place or invite you to his, because you didn't use silk bed sheets and as much as he hated to admit, his rest wasn't perfect. But silk sheets or not, he had so much work to do in the mask that he just couldn't make time for you later.
"Matt, what are you doing?" You ask in a hushed tone when he starts guiding you towards the bathroom on the first floor and locks the doors from the inside after a moment of silence.
"What I know I won't be able to do later." He whispers, taking his coat off your shoulders and dropping it onto one of the sinks. He's quick to let his hands roam on your body, feeling the soft material of your knitted dress.
Your body responds on its own, and you curse yourself for feeling so horny the second Matt starts touching you, "in the bathroom? Really?"
"Shhh," his lips ghost over yours, "listen to your boss." Matt steps in between your legs, pushing his knee between yours, and your breath catches in your throat when he gets closer and starts moving his leg up and down so that his thigh would create friction to your core. You watch curiously for a moment, but then focus on Matt's face, taking off his glasses and putting them on.
"How many more times do I have to tell you that I want to see you without your glasses?" You whisper, connecting your lips with his, and soon, you're moving your body much quicker, grinding on his thigh.
"Many, many times." He rasps out, sliding one hand under your dress and you slightly gasp when his cold fingers meet with your already throbbing pussy. A sigh leaves his mouth at how wet you were and Matt is quick to start rubbing your clit faster.
"Please..." You look at him through his red-tinted glasses and notice a satisfied smirk resting on his face.
"What do you need? Tell me, y/n, tell me and I'll do it."
"If you don't put those fingers inside of me right now, I'm gonna have to do it myself." You push your dress higher and take a tight hold of Matt's wrist. "Don't you want to feel just how ready I am for you?"
Matt smiles, enjoying the way you're becoming bolder each time you have sex with him. "I thought I told you to listen to me, y/n, and you haven't been doing that-" He grunts lowly when pushing two fingers inside of you and you tightly grip his shoulders for support. "Oh, so tight."
"Matt!" You gasp when he starts moving his middle and his ring finger inside of you at an agonizingly slow pace.
"I'd gladly turn you around and make you watch yourself while I fuck you from behind," his voice is low and seductive in your ear and your grip on his jacket tightens, "while you're gripping the sink tightly," he quickens his pace, enjoying the sound of your wet pussy, "and I'd make you cum so hard, you'd forget your own name."
You let out an involuntary whimper and kiss him hard, smudging your rose pink lipstick on the corners of his lips and surprise yourself with your next words, "please, put another finger in me, Matt."
He stops, contemplating his actions, but then agrees, curling three fingers inside of you, earning a low, restricted moan. "Feels good?"
You laugh at the ridiculousness of his question and mutter before kissing him again, "don't stop now."
Soon enough, you feel your legs giving up, your knees bending on their own and you no longer trust leaning on the sink, but fully rely on hanging onto Matt. He felt your orgasm coming way before you did, your pulse spiking up, causing you to take shorter breaths, the lack of oxygen clouding your mind. He sighed at just how good it felt to have you clenching around his fingers, all three of them and gripping his shoulders tightly. He remembered the jolts of electricity he felt when you dug your nails into his back muscles and understood that if he wasn't wearing so many layers, you'd be doing exactly that... Raking his flesh, marking him as yours, because no other man, only him, only Matt, made you feel so good.
"Fuck.", you sigh when he pulls his fingers away, and cross your arms on his shoulders. "I'd do something now if we had more time."
"Yeah, like what?" He gently brushes his nose along yours and connects your foreheads. The coldness from his glasses resting on the bridge of your nose, made him feel a weird wave of relief.
"I can only perform, not describe." You smirk, coming down from the unexpected mid-day high.
"Maybe some other time." Matt pecks your lips, and you try to brush away your lipstick from his lips with your thumb. "We have lots of work to do."
"You should talk to Foggy. I don't... Want to feel like a therapist in your friendship." You pull away, giving Matt his glasses back.
"Have you told him the same thing?" He turns on the water to wash his hands.
"Something similar. I don't know what caused this but if you two continue not talking to each other, then we all might as well leave." You walk out first, hoping to avoid possible suspicion as to where where you for so long.
***
"What's this?" Owsley looks around the dim lit alley and takes a piece of paper from Fisk.
"I asked Wesley to transfer funds for me the night before we found him." Fisk intently looks at Owsley, studying every twich of his muscles.
"I thought financials was my job."
"Yes, that's why I wanted you to have a look at these. There seem to be some irregularities with my accounts."
Owsley scoffs, not sparing a single glance at the papers. "Of course there are. I move money around all the time. It's a shell game to keep the SEC off our backs, it's nothing."
"Your hand's shaking." Fisk doesn't hurry to take the paper back, watching Owsley's hand shake.
"'Cause it's freezing out here!"
"Then why are you sweating, Leland?"
"All right, okay, Jesus. I figured you'd find out sooner or later. What's a guy gonna do?"
"Wesley found out, didn't he? He confronted you and you shot him?" Fisk raises his voice.
Owsley sighs, "I have no idea what happened to Wesley. I wasn't a part of that. But to be frank, I said from the beginning that him messing with that lawyer wasn't going to end well."
"You tried to kill me." Fisk focuses on other perspective of the events that took place at his Gala.
"The poisonings at the benefit were just to make it look like someone was trying to get at you. That lawyer could've died as well and I'd be damn glad if she did, but Wesley was running after her like a lost puppy. A pathetic sight that was, honestly. You know, you and Wesley were more similar than you thought."
It takes a moment for Fisk to connect the dots, "Vanessa? You wanted to kill her?"
"Do you blame us? Just look at what's happened since you took up with her. You've been distracted, emotional, erratic. We just wanted to nudge you back on track. But obviously that went south, so we will be parting ways and I'll be taking half your assets with me."
"You think that I would let you walk away after what you've done?"
"That's exactly what you're gonna do, because I have Detective Hoffman." Owsley takes a big step back, creating more space, "Hoffman never left the city after he murdered his partner in the hospital. I scooped him up, squirreled him away for a rainy day. If I don't check in every 24 hours, Hoffman gets dropped off to the Feds, tells them all the shit he's been up to."
"Hoffman, he's he's a frightened little worm. He would never risk going against me."
"Ten million buys a lot of courage. He thinks he's going into witness protection, get the money on the other side. Now, I know you'll get to him before he cashes in, but by then the damage will already have been done and everything you've been fighting so hard for will come tumbling down." Owsley tries to play cool, holding his ground, but not for long.
"Yeah, but you would get caught up in that as well."
"I've spent my entire life hiding assets overseas for pricks like you. My son and I will be just another transaction, disappearing into the tax-exempt ether. But I'm a fair sort. That's why I'm only taking half your money. You go your way, I go mine. Not what I'd call win-win but it's as close as we're gonna get with this. So we on the same page?" Fisk hesitates to answer, so Leland adds, "I bet you wish you'd had that lawyer on your side now, don't you?"
Fisk punches him, screaming like a predator, and Leland tries tasing him... but Fisk quickly recovers, still shouting, "You hurt her!"
" Wait, wait!" Owsley tries to negotiate, but Fisk pushes him into an elevator shaft.
"You hurt Vanessa!" He comes closer, looking at the pool of blood that grows with every passing moment. Fisk turns to Francis, his bodyguard, "Sweep the city. Find Hoffman and put a bullet in his head."
***
Foggy enters surprisingly well-lit Fogwell's Gym and sees Matt hitting a punching bag quite furiously. Upon hearing Foggy enter, Matt stops and turns around, catching his breath, "How'd you know I was here?"
"Known about your outlet for a while. I didn't say anything because I thought it had something to do with your dad. Now I know better. Thought you'd be out punching people in the head, or whatever you do." Foggy rolls his eyes, keeping his distance.
"I was. Paid Ben's editor a visit." Matt shrugs, and starts rolling off the tape from his hands.
"Ellison?"
"Yeah. Karen thinks he's working for Fisk."
"Did he talk?"
"No, never got close. Wife and kid picked him up outside the office. Try it again tomorrow night."
"Looking like you have some anger issues. Wanna talk about it?"
Matt sends his friend a smirk, "You're not my priest, Foggy who you might have met today if you'd shown up for Ben's funeral."
"Karen's that upset? I told her we had lots of work to do."
"I told her this was my fault all of this between you and me." Matt sighs, "She told me that y/n could've stayed at the office alone."
"When you two left, we did have only a couple of clients come in... But then I got a call from Marci... And just, truth to be told, I enjoyed spending time with our new cases, and not listening to all these people crying at the funeral."
"Wait, Marci called? Are you two back together?" Matt raises an eyebrow, listening to Foggy's heartbeat slightly picking up pace.
"She's been helping me copying files from Landman and Zack on the quiet. Whole stack of documents on their dealings with Fisk, and Owlsley at Silver and Brent."
"Ben is dead, Foggy, because he got dragged into this. And now you're doing the same with Marci." Matt waves his hands in the air, a scowl forming on his face.
"We're being careful-" Foggy answers, sounding like a highschooler who got caught hiding condoms in his drawer.
"This has to stop. Fisk has to - I have to stop this before there's no one left to bury." Matt squeezes his fist tightly, remembering how much you've already had to experience since coming into his life. He didn't want to lose you, especially not now.
"Matt! Last time you went after Fisk, I found you half dead! More than half. You go after him in the mask again, he might kill you. Or you might kill him, which would probably have the same effect on someone as Catholic as you are!" Foggy raises his voice as well, which painfully echoes in the empty space.
"What am I supposed to do? How do I stop him?" Matt starts shouting, his anger getting the best of him quickly.
"By using the law, Matt. Like you told me and Karen to do. That's how we take him down. Come on, there's four of us now, we can create some badass plan and put Fisk behind the bars."
"We? Thought Nelson and Murdock were over." Matt voice gets quieter.
"There's nothing I want more than to find a way back to where we were, but I don't know if we can."
"No, we can't. But maybe we can find a way to move forward, Foggy." Matt steps closer, putting a hand on Foggy's shoulder. "All four of us."
"Y/n! I came here as fast as I could." Foggy runs up to you, clearly out of breath, and from the first glance, you could say that out of bed too.
You lift your eyes from your briefcase that you've been holding in your arms ever since the agents gave it back to you. Dex's hand gently squeezes your shoulder, before he stands up, greeting Foggy. "Agent Poindexter. Are you a family member?"
"No, I'm her friend. Coworker. Why are you still holding her here? How are you?" Foggy asks, concern written all over his face.
You pull Dex's FBI windbreaker tighter, feeling the cold seeping into your bones. "I'm alright, Foggy."
"No, you're not." Foggy quickly sits beside you on the small bench, where Dex has been keeping you company for the past couple of hours, and takes your right hand into his. "What happened? Who hurt you?"
Dex eyes Foggy for a minute, before his glance falls on your arm wrapped with medical gauze. "I said I'm alright. Just hurt my arm a bit, nothing serious... Nurse said to keep it like that for a couple of days." Your stare is blank. You avoid Foggy's eyes. Dex excuses himself and leaves you two alone.
"Was it the Russians? Everyone's saying that it was the Russians." You pull your hand away from Foggy and touch the ring on your middle finger, slowly rolling it.
"Well, it looks like you already know everything."
"I want to hear it from you, y/n."
"Yes, okay?" You raise your voice a tiny bit, but in the empty corridor it sounds as if you were shouting. "They killed Michael, they kidnapped me and then this freak, the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, saved me. You're happy?"
Foggy blinks more than necessary, carefully choosing his next words. "No, of course I'm not happy. Why would I be happy when my friend got hurt? The only one I can trust now..."
You furrow your eyebrows. "You need better friends then. I'm..." You blink your new tears away. You've cried enough in front of the others today. "I'm a mess, okay? They're going to question me tomorrow, and I have to relive it all again, and I just don't want to say something that might hurt you... Only because I'm hurt."
"Y/n, I understand..."
"You better go home, Foggy, I have nothing to say you would want to hear." You look away, not trying to hurt Foggy, but hoping to protect him from your anger.
"Let me get you a taxi, at least." He stands up, looking down at your lowered head.
"Dex will take me home. He's bound to do so after the brief inquiry." You squeeze out a small, but fake smile, "I'm okay, really."
"You're either a very good liar or very good at convincing." Foggy smiles and spins on his heel to leave, but then turns around, "call me tomorrow, okay?"
You nod and watch him hurry out of the building into the pitch black night. "You're ready to go?" Dex emerges from the nearby room, having been listening to you and Foggy's conversation.
"Yes. I am."
***
The silent drive finally ends, and you're back home, standing under the hot water stream in your shower, hoping that it can peel off your skin and make you feel less dirty and miserable as you felt now.
Your tears have mixed with water running down your face until there was no difference between them. You tried to keep your right hand out of the water, but it was pointless as it soon got wet.
You hear a loud banging on the doors as you turn off the water and wrap yourself in a bathrobe, water dripping from your soaking wet hair on the floor as you reluctantly make way towards the door. "Y/n, please, open up." Matt rests his head on the doors, still knocking, but moves aside when hears the lock clicking.
"Foggy told you?" You step back to let him in and lock the doors again.
No. "Yeah." He sighs, moving his hands in the air before he finally manages to get a hold of your shoulder. "How are you?"
"Spectacular." You huff sarcastically, making your way back to the living room before Matt gently catches your wrist. Something familiar crosses your mind but before you can think of it, your face is pressed into his chest, and he's holding you tightly against him.
"I'm so sorry." Matt whispers in your ear, his cashmere sweater muffling your words, words that he already has heard tonight. "Are you hurt?"
"No." You lie, pulling apart from Matt, this time he releases you, following you into the living room.
"I know that it's not the best time" Matt begins, holding his interlocked fingers behind his back, "but I thought you should know..."
You turn around to face him, "know what?"
He shouldn't say anything now, he should just let you be in your own bubble and grieve Teneke, at least tonight. He shouldn't have come here at all, not after what he did just hours ago...in the mask. Karen told him, and he said he'll keep it a secret, for a little while at least. But he couldn't lie to you, at least not about this.
"Know what, Matt?" You ask again, getting impatient with his lack of response.
"Wesley's dead." Matt finally says, holding his breath for your reaction.
You feel blood leaving your face and your legs turn to jelly, and involuntary, you plop on the sofa. "How?"
"Someone shot him. Many times. Maybe to send a message to Fisk-"
"When?" Your voice slightly trembles, and you're already up, going into the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of brandy, getting another glass for Matt.
"I don't know exactly when, but there were talks about the sabotage during Fisk's gala." He follows you into the kitchen, listening to your loud exhalation when the alcohol burns your throat.
"Who told you that?" You look at Matt as if your eyes could burn holes in his head.
Karen. "Somebody you don't like." Matt says instead.
"If you're going to keep talking in riddles, then leave." You cross your arms.
"The Devil."
"The Devil? Well, he's lying, then."
"He said that it's true. But it's up to you to...believe it or not." Matt feels you push the brandy glass into his hand and takes it. Like a gust of wind, you leave the kitchen and stand next to the window, watching the streetlamps illuminate the city. You're silent, and this silence is killing him.
"You know, we worked so hard to get him out of jail, and then the Russians just killed him." You finally say, turning to look at Matt. "I thought I was going to die tonight. And there was only one thought in my mind the whole time I was at their mercy."
"What was it?" Matt puts the half full glass on the counter, holding his breath.
"You." The corners of your lips turn upwards slightly, "I wasn't really scared about dying, maybe I just was in a lot of shock... But I was thinking to myself, hoping that you're okay, and you won't play a hero and try to avenge me or something. I thought, 'if he doesn't make amends with Foggy, then he's an idiot'." You chuckle, watching Matt's eyebrows twitch.
"I..."
"But then this," you wave your arms in the air, "devil came, and he claims to not work for Fisk, but I just feel it in my bones that he's hiding something important."
"I think you shouldn't let your feelings get the best of you, especially not now." Matt tries, but then understands just how ridiculous that sounds now, so instead, he sits on your sofa and takes off his glasses. "You know, my dad died when I was nine. He was killed. I heard the shot, just outside our apartment and... ran out, my blood turned cold in my veins, and when I finally found him, in an alley, he was already dead. I held his body in my arms, prayed to God to send him back to me." Matt rubs his eyes, "then cursed Him when my dad didn't wake up. His body was still warm, he was still bleeding out in my arms... But no one could help him. Not even God."
You slowly walk towards him, and sit close, taking his left hand and interlocking your fingers with Matt's. "I'm sorry." You whisper, watching a single tear roll down his cheek.
"I wish there was someone who could've saved him. I could've saved him."
"Matt, you were still a child, there was nothing you could do."
Matt turns to face you, his nose just inches away from yours, "there was no saving for Teneke either."
"I know." You whisper, "but all this unknown... It scares me."
"The Russians will pay for this."
"Dex said the FBI got them all. They're facing charges for murder, kidnapping and money laundering. But Fisk isn't involved in any of this. I already looked at the documents." You sigh, resting your head against Matt's shoulder.
"Dex? He's that Agent?" Matt's hands take your legs and put them on his, allowing him to sit closer to you.
"Yeah." You give no more details and just breathe in Matt, his cologne, his shower gel and the smell of his new sweater which feels so soft against your face.
"You should go to bed." Matt says, not making a move to let go of you, with the way you were pushing yourself against him.
"I don't think I'll sleep tonight." You close your eyes, enjoying the warmth from Matt's body.
He chuckles slightly. "You really thought that I won't get revenge for you?"
"I'm always hoping that you're not as stupid as you might be." You push your face into his neck, breathing hot air on Matt's skin.
"I might surprise you."
"Don't do it now. Just close your eyes."
Matt smiles sadly. The guilt was eating him from the inside, and he felt the devil on his shoulder getting bigger and bigger with each passing minute. But he obliged, for now, and closed his eyes.
***
Is she someone special to the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, or just likes to get into deadly accidents?
This isn't the first time that Hell's Kitchen's well-known lawyer y/n y/l/n finds herself struggling to find an outcome of rather dangerous accidents that she creates with her cases and perhaps not the last time that the city's masked vigilante is coming to her aid. What bounds Hell's Kitchen's most hated man with the respected lawyer? Is it money or desire to remain famous when her former company, Hogarth, Chao and Benowitz dropped her after the accident involving the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, and now that she's trying to keep her status above the 'bare minimum' bar, is she using the vigilante as her guarantee of fame to revive the small office of Nelson and Murdock? What's in it for the vigilante, money or the attention and trust of the city after being accused of causing the explosions in Hell's Kitchen merely a couple of weeks ago?
You drop the newspaper on the table after reading the first paragraph of the first page. "Fame? Money? Is..." you look at the end of the article to see the author, "this Nancy Lockwood for real?"
"It's just a newspaper, y/n." Matt tries to argue, swallowing a piece of his french toast.
"Didn't take it for a cheap gossip journal, because what is this, are they seriously suggesting that me and that guy are 'something special'? Fuck." You sit down in front of Matt, watching him take a sip of his hot coffee.
"Did they mention Teneke? Or the Russians?"
"Not a single word. If Fisk is paying them, he's paying them good because he's got me in the mud with the devil." You scoff.
"They're going to forget this quickly, soon, the FBI trial will be more important than your business." Matt cuts the last slice of the toast into two pieces, feeling your anger fill the living room of your apartment. "You should eat before leaving."
"The news didn't exactly increase my appetite." You sigh, looking out the window. "Will you return to the office today? Foggy texted me that extra hands would be welcomed."
"Don't think he had me in mind." He shrugs, pulling one of your blankets on his shoulders.
"Just... Go, please. I'm not asking you to talk to each other, just be there, in case we get new clients... I'm not sure I'm a very welcomed sight for them after this Nancy earned her montly pay." You finish your coffee and leave Matt alone to make his decision.
***
"I hope I didn't disturb you, Father." You cross the threshold of the church and take a breath of the dull air.
"No, child, all are welcome in the house of God." Father Lantom smiles and leads the way to his small office, walking quickly through the longs rows of pews. "I have to admit, though, I didn't expect to see you here again."
"Neither have I, Father. But life is a funny thing. Or as you might say, 'God has a plan for everyone'." You sit in front of Lantom at the small table and take quick look around, but then notice today's newspaper lying. Your expression turns sour.
"Yes, that's the truth, there is a plan for everyone." Lantom follows your eyes and sighs.
"Mine isn't going well so far. As you already know, I suppose." You roll your eyes and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
"Before we go into further discussion, would you like a cup of a latte?"
"Uh, no, thank you."
"Business only then." He tries to joke but then gets serious. "Not a particularly nice front page. Even for Bulletin that's a new low."
"Well, the guy got his front page. It seems that it's the only thing that matters to him."
"I know that the two of you crossed your paths before... Do you believe in his doing?" Father crosses his arms and watches your eyes wander to the small window on your left.
"He's playing God, thinks he can do whatever he wants just because he's wearing a mask. And it just seems that he's somehow always after me... I just don't trust that his intentions are good." You notice a sparrow trying to keep itself steady on a tree branch but the wind is just too strong, so it flies away. "He's breaking the law, which I can't forgive as an attorney. I also think that he's... Hiding more than just his identity."
"Why do you think he's doing all those things?"
"I don't know. It's hard to imagine yourself in a criminal's place when you've never... Did those things. But did other things." You lower your head in shame.
"You know that your secret is safe with me as long as you label it as a cofession." Father looks at you intently.
"I know. But... Do you believe in his doing? I suppose it's hard to do so when he's called the Devil."
"Hm. It's difficult to say... I understand where he's coming from... But it's not like I support his doings. Violence is never an answer." Father sits in silence for a moment, clearly thinking. "It is said that he's not killing anyone. At least he's smart enough to not get his hands bloody."
You scoff, feeling a lump in your throat. "At least someone shares a similar opinion. I just can't go to the office anymore without hearing Karen defend him. It almost seems that she's in love with him just because he saved her once."
"And he saved you more than once. Yet you don't share the same feelings with her."
You furrow your eyebrows, then sigh, "it's difficult. I... There's something between me and someone else going on. I don't know what will become of it, or how long will it last but..." You trail off, almost ashamed to admit your feelings.
"Is it... Matt?" Lantom asks and notices your cheeks redden. "I apologize for being so blunt, but I noticed the way you two were interacting during the funeral. The eyes never lie."
"Yes. But this has nothing to do with my disliking of this criminal... I just don't like him poking into my business. I don't know if I'm ready for the cofession... But with all the things that have happened... I just can't keep this a secret any longer. Not to myself."
"You can tell me anything, y/n. I can assure you that this will remain only between us. God is our witness, or what other lawyer words you may like to use."
A small smile appears on your face and you wish to have a cigarette in your hands, but settle on something more appropriate for this place. "I think I'll take that latte, Father."
***
Your return to the Nelson and Murdock office at the end of the day was a surprise to Foggy and Karen. Not a particularly pleasant one. "You said it youself about the extra help, Foggy." You hang your coat and drop your purse of your table, noticing the absence of Matt.
"I was only joking, you only..." Foggy stumbles with his words, then decides to rephrase the sentence, "after yesterday, you shouldn't have come here. It's too soon."
"I'm okay, I promise." You walk into the kitchen with easiness in your step, causing more suspicion to Foggy and almost collide with Karen. Something about Karen felt suspicious and your thoughts travelled to Wesley. Why did Karen remind you of the fact that he was dead? Was it some supernatural sixth sense or just your head messing with you?
Your stare was cold and empty, but Karen squeezed a small smile nonetheless. "Hey. I uh, didn't think you'd be back so soon. I heard what happened. I'm so sorry."
"Yeah, I've never left actually. Unlike some of the people here." Your words cut like a broken piece of glass and Karen gulps, but then your eyebrows twitch, creating a more pleasant expression, "thanks, but nice words won't help Teneke anymore. I trust the FBI to do their job now."
"Right." Karen pulls away from the coffee maker to create more space for you. The calmness that you wore as a cloak on your shoulders was almost frightening. Something similar to a psychopath smiling.
"We got four new cases today." Foggy says loudly, breaking the awkwardness in the kitchen.
"Huh, I guess I really am reviving the office with my glory hunting."
"It was a nasty article from Bulletin." Karen takes her cup of coffee and turns on her heel to leave the kitchen area.
"I don't know, it got us clients." Foggy tries to joke, "I'm sorry, it was a bad attempt to joke. Did he really save you?"
You stop stirring the coffee and look at Foggy and Karen's faces - waiting for your confirmation. "Yes." You walk back to your office and close the doors, feeling them staring at you through the windows.
"I... I think I'll go now, you better lay off the booze, Karen." Foggy gently nudges Karen, reminding her of their conversation before you came, and takes his briefcase from the table, opening the doors to leave when Matt makes an entrance, standing in the doorway. Both Matt and Foggy stand in silence, Matt, with an unreadable expression, and Foggy, scared, almost as if he saw a ghost. Matt takes two steps to the side, allowing Foggy to step out, which he does, as awkwardly as one could imagine.
"Well that wasn't awkward." Karen says when Matt closes the door.
"What are you doing here so late? Or early or whatever it is?" Matt turns his head to the side, listening to Foggy's descending steps.
"Um, couldn't sleep." Karen replies.
"Lot of that going around."
"Seems like it's the only thing we still all have in common." Karen says, expecting Matt to say something, but he just gives her his typical shrug, making way to his office.
The smell of warm coffee and your perfume makes Matt feel at home and his shoulders visibly relax. "Didn't expect to have company."
"Neither did I." You can't stop the silly smile dancing on your lips when his fingers gently touch your shoulder while passing by.
"Why are you not at home? What happened during the questioning?" He sits down in his old seat, taking some documents out of his briefcase.
"It was okay. For FBI. Can't believe I'm saying that feds did a good job, but they did. I think Dex and Ray worked their asses off last night to actually pull reliable evidence." You sigh, reading the same old documents of your cases, trying to find a connection with Fisk.
"You sound... Different." Matt slides his fingers on paper slowly, tracing every bump, every letter.
"Different how?"
"More calm. Are you sure you're alright?"
"Yeah. Possibly now more than ever. I-" you get interrupted when Karen opens the door and announces her departure for tonight. You're left in a comfortable silence with Matt again.
"You were saying something." He reminds you, reaching for your cup of coffee.
"I went to a place after the questioning." You trail off, suddenly standing up and walking up to Matt. He hears the papers rustle and feels your presence next to him, leaning on the table. "The church."
"Church? You went there?" He can't help himself and puts his hand on your bare knee.
"Surprised myself too." You chuckle. "But... had a long talk with Father Lantom. He certainly knows what advice to give."
"Yeah, he does." Matt replies, not asking any more questions, because his beliefs told him that confessions were strictly between a person and a priest.
"He said that he missed you." You look down on Matt, gently touching his bruised cheek. "You should go there."
"I know." Matt leans into your touch, closing his eyes behind his red shades. His hand slides further up, on the inside of your thigh.
"He told me to be patient. Because you, Murdocks, are hotheads." You can't help but spread your legs further apart to make space for Matt's hand, travelling closer to your core.
"He knows about us? Did you tell him?"
"I think he's very good at reading people." You reply, feeling Matt place a gentle kiss on your thigh.
"Well, he wasn't wrong about Murdocks being hotheads." He slides in front of you with his chair, pushing your underwear down and pulling up your skirt. You don't stop him, on the contrary, sit on the edge of the table more comfortably, waiting for Matt's next move with a familiar anticipation in your stomach. Maybe that was what people called butterflies.
You lose your train of thought when Matt kisses the inside of your thigh once, before diving to meet your clit with his hot tongue. You buckle your hips upon the contact and your fingers slide into his dark hair. "Matt..." You exhale loudly, when his slow and calculated movements suddenly quicken, and you can't help but bite your lip, in order to stop the moans from leaving your mouth. The thrill of thinking that either Foggy or Karen could return made your head spin. Matt moves his tongue with confidence, almost groaning at the feeling of finally doing what he wanted to do for a long time. And pleasuring you this way felt even better than he imagined. All your troubles disappeared and you felt the knot tightening in your stomach. "Matt, I'm gonna-" you don't get to finish your sentence when a strong orgasm takes over your body, your thighs trap Matt's head, shaking from the impact, and you feel him pressing your stomach with his hand to keep you in place, which adds to the sensation and you let out a frustrated moan. Matt waits for you to calm down and slowly kisses you, letting you taste your own high on his tongue.
"Fuck, you're gonna have to do this everyday." You kiss him again before standing up and fixing yourself.
"Gladly." Matt smiles with a lovesick grin, pulling back the papers for reading.
You leave him alone and go to the bathroom downstairs, a smile never leaving your face, but the conversation with Father Lantom resurfaces to your mind again.
***
'You don't like him so much because you wish he existed during those nights? You wanted for the so-called hero appear and save the day, right?' Father Lantom's calm voice makes your head lift from the empty cup.
'Yes, I suppose.'
'You have to forgive yourself for this, child. I'm sure God has forgiven you long time ago.'
'I think the problem is Father, that I just don't believe in God. Maybe I am paying for that now.'
'Don't linger on bad moments for too long. You might forget what happiness feels like. And just... give yourself a chance to love. I might not know you so well as I know Matthew, but from what you've told me, you both need it. Don't give up on him so soon.' Lantom puts a hand on yours through the table in a fatherly manner and taps it twice. 'Be at peace, y/n.'
"I said I will figure this out, Micheal, and I did. With some help, of course." Your lips twitch into a half-smile, and you shake hands with Teneke outside the hearing room in the corridor. His grip is strong and confident, matching yours. The accountant, almost turned criminal, just hours ago, but you managed to save him. His smile was your second-best reward, first, obviously being money.
"I'm still holding onto that favor, you know." Teneke's hand slips out of your grasp and he fixes his jacket.
"I've already done the paperwork, you can return home now." You start walking with Teneke matching your step. Glancing back, you notice Dex and Ray speaking in the doorway of the room you've just left.
"I'm sure Kelly missed me these days, it's been a bit tough when we got to know... I shouldn't say this."
"What? What's been tough?" You fix the strap of your briefcase, preventing it from sliding down your shoulder, and look at Teneke, he's suddenly flustered.
"I promised Kelly not to tell anyone, since it's still so early, but you just saved my ass..." His shoulders slump forward, but the smile doesn't leave his face, "We're having a baby! I know that it's not our age to have kids, but-"
"Hey, Kelly is a strong woman, you two will be great parents, age is just what's written in your passport," you two go outside and the cold wind messes your hair. Teneke stands on the sidewalk, stopping in front of you. You slightly poke his chest with your finger, "it's more important what's here, in your heart."
"Not only the best lawyer in the state, but also the one with the best advice. Thank you, y/n, truly." Teneke opens his arms, going in for a hug.
You welcome the hug, feeling Teneke's hands firmly on your back but then a sound deafens you for a moment... A shot. Teneke's hands loosen, his smile fades and you watch in shock as his body slumps on the sidewalk, just outside the FBI building. You notice the blood patch on your coat, blood from Teneke's chest, and a red pool surrounding the non-responsive body of your client.
The time seems to slow down, perhaps you'd think that it stopped completely, if it wasn't for the gloved hands grabbing you by your shoulders, yanking your briefcase to the ground and pushing you inside a car, quickly driving off.
***
You can feel the wetness on your cheeks, since the cold hits it with more ferocity. Have you been crying this whole time? But how long have you been in this car? You couldn't tell because the world has been blurry from your tears ever since Teneke slipped out of your grasp.
"You think you can talk about us to feds?" The guy in front of you swings his gun before your face, trying to make you scared. And it works. You finally regain your senses and notice the men in the car. Thick Russian accent. "Teneke deserved that for snitching. You're gonna get your share too."
The SUV hits the curb and the one with a gun sends a glare to the driver. Two other men continue to look straight ahead, sandwiching you in the backseat. They were unpredictable, you didn't know what to expect when you'll finally reach the 'base' and what will the 'boss' say? Is he going to kill you? Drown you? Cut you open while you're still alive? Poison you and pretend that you overdosed? You could only imagine the variety of headlines in tomorrow's Bulletin. Will Urich write about you? Will he be satisfied that his story will become a success? Everyone loves a good murder... And a good suicide. So which one is it going to be for you?
He's here. The Devil. Appeared out of nowhere in... red suit? Well that's an upgrade since you last had to deal with him.
***
"He's here!" One of the kidnappers shouts, pushing you back onto the backseat with less strength than he used before, but you still hurt your wrist. Long hours spent locked in the car while waiting for the darkness to fall on Hell's Kitchen, you felt cold in every bone in your bone, making you stiff as a stick.
You watch in shock how he knocks out ten men and stands straight again, as if nothing had happened. As if it wasn't the battle that he, heavily outnumbered, was supposed to lose. You quickly look around and notice the lying gun next to you, and instinctively, grab it. "Don't come any closer!" You load the gun, pointing it at the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. Matt doesn't need eyesight to know that your hands are shaking terribly, that you're taking short breaths, not getting enough oxygen in your lungs. He knows you're scared, terrified.
"Put the gun down." Matt takes a step towards you.
"I said, don't come closer." You step back, making the distance the same as it was before.
"I don't want to hurt you, y/n." Matt risks another step, hearing how a drop of sweat rolls down your forehead. He can smell your anxiety, Teneke's dried blood on your light coat, ruining it for forever, and your dried, salty tears.
"Oh yeah, as if I'm going to believe a guy dressed like that, who's been stalking me since God knows when!" You support your right hand with your left, feeling the gun getting heavier with each second. Having your father teach you a little bit of how to use a gun, you believed that you could use it now, maybe not kill the devil, but seriously hurt him.
"You're gonna hurt yourself, please, put it down." Matt risks two steps, you take a deep breath and fire a shot to the right, hitting a concrete wall, Matt ducks down, not expecting such an aggressive move from you.
"I'm not kidding, asshole!" You step over a body, visibly shaking like a leaf.
"You don't wanna do this-"
"Why are you here? WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS HERE?"
Your voice rings painfully loud in the building, and in Matt's ears, he doesn't remember you ever behaving like that. Maybe that's what it felt like having a wild animal pushed into a corner.
"Answer me!" You shout again.
"I want to protect you." Matt says deeply, thinking over his possibilities. He could knock the gun out of your hand, but this may break your fingers, and he doesn't want to do it. He could just run at you, and hope you don't shoot him, but something in his gut was telling him, that you would not hesitate to do it.
"I don't need protection." You rasp out, firing another shot, now to the left, Matt ducks again, "I don't need anyone!" You say, feeling how tears were running down your cheeks, you were lying, you desperately needed Matt, the only one who shared something similar with you. "And especially, I don't need you!" You aim right at him, and pull the trigger, closing your eyes, but only hear a faint click.
Matt exhales loudly and hurries towards you, catching you just in time, before your knees hit the floor, you cry into his shoulder, involuntarily catching the smell of sweat and blood, that has soaked into his new costume.
"Shh, it's okay, it's okay." Matt gently rocks you, pressing you harder into his chest, when your cries become louder. "You're safe now."
You thought of yourself lesser than the trash bag, lying in Hell's Kitchen, but someone, Matthew Murdock, thought the world of you, but you had yet to understand it.
"They killed him." You sob, gripping him by his broad shoulders, feeling the rough material of the costume, the empty gun slides out of your grasp. "I held his dead body in my arms." You come to your senses, pulling yourself away from the Devil of Hell's Kitchen.
"Y/n..." He begins, but you're shaking your head like crazy.
"This... this is all your plan, right? You work with them. You work with him, right? Fisk? You're his puppet?" You take a big step back, and Matt feels as if you're rejecting him, not the city's vigilante.
"What are you talking about?"
"You're here to 'save me' so you could take me to him or just kill me on your way? You know what I did, of course, if Wesley knew, he told you too." You blabber, making more distance between the two of you. The only way out was... The was no way out of here. At least you didn't see any open doors or corridors.
"What Wesley knew, y/n?" Matt tries to come closer to you again, silently cursing himself for letting you out of his grasp earlier.
"Don't act like you don't know, Devil of Hell's Kitchen." You say the name with venom in your voice. "You're the problem of this city. You all are. Crazy rich men thinking they could just come here and destroy everything. And you-"
"Y/n-" Matt slowly slides towards you, holding his arms up, trying to reason with you.
"You're the worst of them all! You cost me that job-"
"He was gonna frame you! Benowitz didn't give a shit about your career, he was throwing you into the fire!"
"How did you know? Why do you care so much about me? I'm no one, I'm not the President, I'm not the city's Major." You hug yourself, hoping that your ruined coat could still make you warm.
"Just because you're not high in power, it doesn't make you unimportant."
"No, it does. In this city, everything is done with power and money. I think you know it better than anyone else." He's just a step away. He could grip your shoulder and lock you in his arms, and shake those crazy thoughts away. But he lets you talk. "Why did you bring me back to my flat? How did you know where I live? Are you stalking me?"
"No, I was after the Russians." Matt's voice is firm and deep.
"Sure, you can say all you want because at the end of the day, I'm just another crazy woman that you've saved. Great, enjoy your first page in tomorrow's newspaper, devil." You spit, turning your head to look for an exit once more, but then Matt grabs your elbow and harshly yanks you into his body.
"I'm here not to hurt you, trust me. Can you trust me, y/n?" He rasps out, listening to your racing heartbeat.
"You think you're above the law, but you're not," you try to look him into the eyes, but only see the red glass built into the helmet, "when the truth comes out, and you'll be behind bars, I'll be the first one to visit you, just so I could look in your eyes and say that you got what you deserved." Your breathing is erratic, you try to distance yourself with your palms pressed on his chest as much as possible, but his grasp on you is too strong. He hesitates for a moment before he dives to meet your lips, in a single, yet bruising kiss. The edge of his helmet, especially the nose, is pressing into your cheek, scraping your skin. You squirm, trying to deny his kiss, but vigilante's tongue still manages to make way into your mouth-
But then you step onto his foot with your high heel, finally freeing yourself, and slap his cheek, hurting your hand when it collides with his helmet, yet the impact with his skin is made, as the Devil grabs his cheek.
"You, stay away from me! Or I'll call the cops on you!" You make way towards one of the doors, pulling them, yet they don't open. Matt stands still, listening to you furiously trying to open one door after another, breathing heavily as panic engulfs you again, until, at last, you open the doors and disappear outside the building, your heels scraping the asphalt loudly. One guy groans, waking up after the harsh treatment from the Devil, but Matt throws a billy club at his head, knocking him out once again.
***
What has gotten into him? Why did he try to kiss you by force? The devil has truly possessed his mind; he's never been this reckless. Not with the suit on. Sure, getting rejected as Matt Murdock hurt, but getting rejected by a woman he loves... Love. Was this feeling in his chest, love? Is that what made him go through fire and blood to save you... Just to be someone you lash out on? And the thing you said... What have you done? What was so bad that you thought Fisk has sent the devil to kill you?
Matt now understood just how little he knew about you and how much he had to learn as both - devil and Matt Murdock. But now he had to go and be there for you. Without the mask.
***
"Y/n? Y/n!" Dex's voice brings you back to reality, causing you to lift your eyes from the ground. Only now you understood that you've been walking near the dock, counting your steps to calm yourself down. You finally notice him, wearing a bulletproof vest, and he runs up to you, almost out of breath.
You don't respond, you just physically can't force yourself to say a single word, so you welcome his arms, they engulf you like a shelter, protecting you from the strong wind, tightly pushing you against his bulletproof vest, and you feel him resting his chin on your head, leaving an air-kiss to your hair. "Come on, now, you're safe. I'm with you now. I'm here."
The sirens should deafen you again, but you don't hear them, don't see the flashing lights behind Dex, only see the darkness of Dex's jacket and the mint smell fills your senses, erasing today's horrors. At least for a moment.
