A/N: I actually wrote part three to my li’l frank x platonic reader fic before part two - hence why part two AND three have been published in one day. This part follows the events of daredevil season two.
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Two weeks later -
Hell’s Kitchen was quiet tonight. Maybe it was because it was too cold to leave home, people didn’t get themselves into as much trouble when the weather wasn’t right for it. But that didn’t mean you’d give yourself the day off. Apparently, daredevil didn’t give himself the day off either.
Without making a noise he sat himself next to you on the ledge of the building you had perched yourself on,
“great view, right?” You ask the vigilante in red, he hums in approval, “Right.”
“How’s patrol tonight?”
“That’s what I’m here to talk to you about- there was a shooting on Twelfth. The Irish. All of them dead.”
“So surely it was just a mob fight gone wrong?”
The devil shakes his head,
“You’d think. But the cartel were attacked too.”
“You got a theory?”
“Police think it was some sort of military operation. The precision of the entry wounds on the victims would suggest it was executed by a professional”
“You sound like a lawyer” you chuckle.
He mumbles something, what it was that he mumbled you didn’t quite catch.
“Are the police keeping the gang war theory open? It’s not entirely out of the question.”
“It wasn’t gang on gang crime.” He says firmly, “I know what I - what I saw. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was just one person.”
“One person? This was the Irish. How could one person kill like twenty members of the Irish mob?”
“Back to the army theory.” He replies
“Just- stay vigilant. I’ll let you know if I find anything else out, don’t seek anyone out.”
“We should work together” you suggest
“I work alone.”
“I’ll let you know if I find anything, okay?” You relent
There was no response, you turn to face the devil of Hell’s Kitchen only to find an empty spot where he was sat, “Shit.” You mumble before leaving the ledge yourself and going to investigate.
It wasn’t difficult to find the scene of the crime. You could smell the metallic stench from miles away.
The bodies had been cleared by the police when you snuck into the poorly concealed safe house. The smell of blood was overwhelming, but there was the lingering scent of gunpowder. You weren’t sure if humans had the ability to smell fear like animals did, but you suspected if you could, the room would stink of it. In your short time as a vigilante, you had been shot at twice. It never got less scary. You never felt less shaken up. A mere two hours ago this room would’ve contained the gruesome fate of gruesome men. Maybe they had it coming, how many lives had they taken? You shake your head, as if to erase the thought, but you weren’t here to feel anger or sympathy.
You were here to gather hints like a discount Sherlock Holmes.
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You found daredevil again the next night, he was perched on the cross of the Catholic Church on sixth.
“Penny for your thoughts?” You ask as you walk the perimeter of the church’s roof.
“The Irish, the Mexicans, the dogs of hell, they have one thing in common.”
“They all hate each other?”
“In simple terms.” The devil says throwing a USB at you.
You catch it and inspect it
“What’s on it?”
“Eighteen months ago there was a gang shoot out at Central Park. Involving all three gangs. There were no reported victims but a lead of mine found-“
Your eyes go wide in realisation, “Shit-“ you exclaim, cutting the devil off from his explanation, “thanks for the file- I’ll uh- I’ll look through it- thanks red!” You rush your goodbye before running to find the man who would help connect the dots.
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When you arrive at Frank’s, you knock urgently on the door, the 6 foot something man opens it and you barge past him before pacing his kitchen floor.
“Kid.” Frank says leaning against the now closed door with the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.
“Got anything to confess?” You say sounding angry. You weren’t angry, not really. Just hurt and confused. Frank was a gentle man, you didn’t doubt he harboured a lot of resentment, you would too. But you never thought he would’ve resorted to murder.
“What the - what are you on about? Why are you acting like a priest?” He scoffs
“I’m not playing Frank! You-“ you lower your voice, “you killed them.” You practically whisper.
“Killed who.” He asks firmly, raising a brow at your accusatory tone.
“You know who.” You mumble, “Look I didn’t come here to grill you- I don’t know why I came here to be honest.”
“You never have a reason when you come here.” Frank remarks as he pours your glass of water and rummages in his cupboards and hands you an energy bar.
You lift yourself onto the counter, taking off your mask, and running a hand over your face before taking a sip of water and then a deep breath.
“They had it coming.” Frank spits out, “they took my family-“
“You don’t have to explain yourself” you sigh,
“I think Daredevil is onto you though.” You hand him the USB the devil had handed you minutes earlier, “Headlines and stuff, I assume. But you can have ‘em. Red only wanted me to look through them to try and piece things together but I already have.”
“You call the devil of Hell’s Kitchen, red?”
“He wears a red suit. It’s kinda weird to call him by his full superhero name when I’m talking to him.”
Frank doesn’t respond, he just busies himself by doing nothing in particular,
“I get why you did it.” You say to break the silence, you didn’t anticipate a response from the dark haired man, but you didn’t need one to continue either.
“And it changes nothing, by the way. I still want to be your friend.”
“Go home kid.” Frank replies in the softest voice you had ever heard come from his mouth.
You didn’t want to argue with him, you look up at him and hug him.
He doesn’t reciprocate it, that was okay. You weren’t the one who needed a hug right now.
“I’ll see you on tomorrow, yeah?” You say pulling away from him
Frank clears his throat awkwardly, “Yeah.”
“Night, Frank.”
“Hey, sunshine?” He calls out as you perch yourself on his window pane, preparing to leave, “stay out of my way.”
“What you do in your spare time is none of my business.” You look out of the window before turning back to face Frank, “and I’m not a snitch, by the way.”
“Never said you were.”
“Just making sure.” You smile before pulling your mask back on and falling out of the window before catching yourself and continuing your patrol.
thinking abt amy getting to finally have her dream job in marine salvage. there’s a whale that comes around every day and she ends up naming it frank. that’s all.
