notdaredcvil:
“Better than it was when I struck out on my own, put it that way.” Matt had always been a man defined by his morality. His beliefs were strong in every regard, in every situation, and they were what spurred him on to action. What prevented him from acting too rashly, though, was the presence of other people, people that he trusted, people that loved him keeping him back from making things worse. When Nelson and Murdock was still knocking around, Foggy had acted as that for him, and now, it was the other lawyers at the district attorney’s office that were keeping him in line, at least when it came to his work.
Jessica didn’t seem to need that around her. She worked perfectly self sufficiently (or perhaps not perfectly, but closer than Matt had ever been able to manage). He wondered if she had people, people that served as something like his colleagues did, in her personal life. He imagined that she did, at least from the way she talked about this Panel associate. Her heart pounded just a little harder, affection clear to read from it. One good thing about Matt’s abilities - and a thorn as well, he supposed - was that he was never left in the dark about what people were feeling, at least not entirely, at least not when they were feeling things that their body could demonstrate easily. Twisted emotions, after all, were much harder to demonstrate and comprehend.
“It better be made of gold or platinum, if you’re feeling adventurous.” She mentioned the Panel employee again, this time calling her a friend rather than an acquaintance or someone she had just met. Matt almost smirked at that, but managed to hold himself back. Jessica wore herself down slowly, but it was inevitable that she would open up her heart again. Despite what she thought, she had enough of it in her chest. “By ‘worked out alright,’ do you mean you haven’t killed each other yet? I’m shocked that you can play nice, honestly.” Every word was teasing, even smooth. It was awkward only because of the tension between them, the story there. “Yeah. More someones than I’ve ever had. I’m alright.”
Checking in on each other was what they had done those months ago, after all, why they had made excuses to turn up at each other’s doors and hang out on the sofa, eating Thai food and watching reruns of Judge Judy, because of course that was the only thing that played on daytime television. Back in the day when Matt worked for himself, rather than a nine to five. “They didn’t even know I was blind until the interview,” Matt said. “My teachers went mad trying to get me to work it into the application. I didn’t really see what it had to do with a passion for law, mind you, besides bad puns about justice being blind.” Again, Matt felt the overwhelming desire to roll his eyes, but couldn’t. Such were the ways of the world. “Cleanliness also takes up way too much time, and that is in short supply right now,” Matt said, pushing a large stack of paper off his coffee table onto the floor as evidence. “When they said working for the D.A was going to suck all the life out of my body, I thought they were being dramatic. They weren’t.” Maybe they were even understating what it was really like.
Jessica was surprised by the answer, the quickness of it, the undeniable sincerity in his tone. He’d never struck her as a person who relied on anyone else, even with his ‘disability.’ He’d always seemed like her, consistently, constantly alone. Why the hell did he come hang out with her goddamn cat?
She probably knew the answer to that, honestly. She just wasn’t thinking about it too hard. The thing with her and Matt -- it had never become real. It had always been just an inch away, out of their grasp. And that meant she could keep denying it, but a part of her didn’t want to. A part of her wanted to do something about it, even now. But what? “Only you would be happier in a nine to five,” she said, instead of anything serious, shaking her head and forcing a smirk he couldn’t even see. He had this way of making her feel a little bit backwards, twisted -- more than she already was anyway.
“Don’t push your luck, Murdock,” she shot back. Talking about Sharon, it felt a little strange. Like she had something to prove, like she wanted to show him she could be a functioning human being. After all, he’d seen her on a lot of binges. Sat on her couch while she was nursing a hangover, making quips at her expense, but sliding a glass of water her way regardless. Christ, things were almost simple then. Or maybe they weren’t, and that was just her memory lying to her. It wouldn’t be the first time that happened. “Way to set the bar high,” she said, her smirk more genuine now, rolling her eyes just because she knew it’d annoy him to hear. “I am capable on occasion. I just don’t indulge in it very often, don’t wanna spoil people,” she said. Her smirk softened around the edges, and she felt something like relief wash through her. “Good,” she said, nodding once. “That’s... that’s good.” She bit her lip, tapping her fingers along the articles about Doom in her hands. “Anyone special?” she asked, as lightly as she could.
Inside, Jessica shoved some plates to the side and dumped the articles onto the table. She never got tired of looking at this place, the starkness of it. He didn’t bother decorating, why would he? It was a lot like her place, except she didn’t have blindness as an excuse. The only real thing of note, besides the goddamn billboard, was the green trunk in the corner. She’d never asked what was inside, but she didn’t have to. She was a P.I., she could put two and two together. “Fuck that,” she said, the shadow of a laugh on her breath. “Dorothy was like that -- Trish’s mom. Wanted me to talk about being a goddamn orphan on my application. I told her to shove it. Never saw the point in commodifying tragedy,” she said, spreading the articles out across the table. Refocusing. This wasn’t just the most awkward social visit ever -- they had shit to do.
“Seems like we’ve got nothing but time,” she said, glancing down at everything he’d found. It was a lot, some of it she could tell immediately was irrelevant. “We’re stuck here, right? Not going anywhere fast. Got any tape?” she asked, glancing over at him. “You’re still alive, Murdock,” she said, smiling softly. “Which means we’ve got shit to do. Like figuring out this Doom crap. And I know you’re not a visual person, but I like seeing it all spread out in front of me. You won’t care if I make a wall of crazy on your wall, right?” she asked with a smirk.
