@elctranatchios
After a night’s work, he was always exhausted. Only just had enough energy to hide the suit away and collapse on top of the bed. Matt didn’t think that could get worse. Somehow, Beck’s petty vendetta had managed to make life even harder. He wasn’t only physically exhausted, but mentally, too. In the knowledge that the morning would hold yet-another absentee child suddenly taking a dislike to the firm representing their ageing parent in a tenancy dispute. In any other circumstances, he’d be amused by the logical knots they tied themselves in. It wasn’t personal, they just called in a favour from an old lawyer friend and of course, they didn’t believe this nonsense in the Bugle, no, not at all, someone like you doing all that? Sometimes he played a small game in his own mind, trying to guess who’d be the first to actually express their underlying belief that blind people were incapable of fighting.
It wasn’t funny, though. He almost didn’t want the nights to end. Wanted to be more Daredevil and less Matt. Foggy would tear strips off of him if he didn’t make it on time the next day. They had enough to deal with that lateness couldn’t really be an option anymore. Stretching his neck from side to side, he could sense a nearby fire escape he could scale to get to roof level. As he made the first leap, he also - inescapably - heard a very, very familiar heartbeat. There was no way. That heartbeat had ended long ago. He’d witnessed it happen. He had to just be concussed, of course. There was no other explanation.