Archive of Our Own

“Come on, we should totally do this!”

“Ugh.” Jessica took (another) swig from her bottle; Matt could hear the paper bag crinkling in her hand and her swallow. Gulp, her throat went. Gulp, gulp. More than one swig, then.

Danny wasn’t deterred. “We’re a team! Teams do stuff together, right?”

Matt wasn’t so sure about the team thing, but he kept that to himself. “Why not a speed competition?” He asked. “From one point to another; see who is first to get there. Maybe from one of the cranes at the top of that skyscraper Danny’s corp is building to the Chrysler building antenna?”

“That would be competitive falling, Matt. Jess would land; I wouldn’t feel a thing. Danny could probably slow his fall down, right?”

“Yup.”

“You, on the other hand…”

Matt frowned. Luke didn’t have faith, that was what it was. “I’d be fine; I’d just jump from beam to rebar to window, and so on.”

“But if you go splat, you won’t be fine. I’m voting picnic. Maybe,” Luke added, “a wholesome day in the great outdoors.”

Okay, he was bullshitting them, right?

“Bullshit,” Jessica said.

Well then: validated. Matt didn’t hold out his hand for a high-five with Jessica, but he thought about it real hard. “I’m not leaving the city.”

“What about the botanical garden? I used to go as a kid with my parents, but I haven’t been back since then.”

“It’s in the Bronx.” Sounded like Jessica had something against the Bronx; Matt could relate. It wasn’t Hell’s Kitchen.

“No, Danny’s right; it’s not too far out and it’s educational.”

It probably reeked of too many plants clumped in the same place; Matt could deal with dumpsters macerating in the summer and piss in the alleys and dead animals rotting behind warehouses; he’d smelled it all. It was home and he knew how to compartmentalize the stink away. But flowers? Trees? He wasn’t used to that, and he didn't want to get used to that. He was a city boy, born and bred. He…

Danny’s voice broke into his ruminations. “Matt? Earth to Matt?”

“Yeah.”

“Next Saturday okay for you?”

No. “Do I have a choice?”

“It’s team bonding!” Ugh, Danny was spending too much time in the corporate world now.

“He means you don't have a choice.”

Thanks, Jess. “I’ll see if Foggy’s free.”

“No, it’s just us! The team, Matt.”

“He means no buffer in shining armor.” Jessica was probably pissed she couldn't bring one of her hanger-ons, but at least she’d have her booze. She always had her booze. Maybe Matt would manage to steal some of hers; he felt like he was going to need it.

“I get it.” He didn’t have to like it, but it sounded like no one cared.

“Cool! Then it’s settled.”

Matt shrugged and lay back down on the roof; sure, he couldn't see the stars, but he could feel the building’s heat warming his back and the cold night air on his face, could feel the concrete shuddering every time a train rattled past underground.

Home, he thought. This is home.

Saturday came too quickly for Matt’s tastes, but he decided it meant the team bonding would be over sooner, and that was the most important. He pondered what to wear; he wasn’t a big fan of the Great, Leafy Outdoors but he assumed it would still be pretty tame and not some sort of wild jungle; besides, it was still winter, and hopefully there wouldn't be too many flowers. Still, he wasn’t really comfortable with the idea of being surrounded by all these plants; Matt liked concrete. He liked tarmac, brick, metal, maybe a wooden board; he could deal fine with the piers and docks around the city. But that was the keyword: what counted was the city. His experience of nature was a New York park, or maybe one of the cemeteries; but Danny wouldn't be swayed and refused a change of plans in favor of, say, Central Park (nothing wrong with Central Park!).

Matt went for jeans, a thick sweatshirt, sturdy boots, a scarf Maggie had knitted for him, and a jacket. He considered gloves; the weather was pretty cold, but it still felt like something he should be able to do without. He did most nights, after all, didn’t he? And being able to touch things was something he needed. Gloves? Sissy, Stick’s voice whispered in his ear.

He compromised and stuffed them in his jacket’s pockets before leaving his apartment, cane in hand, to buy himself a sandwich for lunch before meeting with the others. His fridge was empty, but he didn’t want to bother with the Botanical Garden crowd queuing at their food court or whatever they had; he’d just walk past Nelson’s Meats and get something from Theo. It was guaranteed to be good and a reasonable price, at least.

And once he had food and water, good boots and warm clothes, well… that was it. He couldn't delay the ordeal any longer: it was time to face his fate.

Jessica had convinced Danny to spare them the subway, so they met near Central Park (a perfectly good bit of fake nature in Matt’s opinion, which was how nature should be) and they all piled in a cab. Jess was already drinking, or maybe she hadn’t stopped from the day before; Matt tried to steal her booze but it degenerated into a tussle and Luke confiscated the gin.

“It’s not even 11,” he said.

“So?”

Matt wasn’t about to agree with her out loud, but yeah.

“There are kids there; is that the example you want to give?”

“We don’t have to go where the kids are.”

“There will be kids everywhere!” How Danny could find this something to be enthusiastic about, Matt couldn't say. “I checked their website and they’ve also got an orchid show at the moment; it looks really pretty.”

Ugh. “Can I be excused?”

“Why? If we have to go, we all go. And suffer,” Jessica added in a mumble.

“I’m blind, remember? What do I care about pretty flowers?” And especially orchids. Matt really, really didn’t want to have his nose filled with memories of Elektra right now, be overwhelmed by all the scents of some hothouse packed with too many people, too many flowers, and no Elektra at all.

“We’ll describe them to you!”

“It’s fine, Danny. I can keep Jess’s booze and wait for you outside.”

“You’re coming,” Luke said, “and that’s final. We’re having a day out together, and no one’s allowed to sulk in a corner with booze.”

“Spoilsport,” Jess grumbled.

So Matt crossed his arms, let his head fall back, and waited in silence.

Danny insisted on taking them first to the bit of forest that was left from before New York existed, on the grounds that a walk through trees and fresh (read: cold) air would help them work up an appetite. Matt didn’t need to freeze his ass off to feel peckish; he could smell the sandwich Theo had packed for him and stomping on packed dirt didn’t particularly help. Plus he had to play Regular Blind Guy, one hand on Jess’s arm and his cane held in front of him, and he didn’t need this. It wasn’t relaxing. They walked past people and families, kids chattering about a bird they’d just seen or a particularly tall tree, and Matt just didn’t care. That outing was Danny’s idea, in a place Danny remembered fondly from his own childhood, but it didn’t mean anything to Matt. He grew up in Hell’s Kitchen; his dad raised him in Hell’s Kitchen, and they didn’t go on day trips to some expensive, glorified garden for some special father and son time.

No, what he remembered most fondly was doing his homework at Fogwell’s while his dad hit the bag, listening to his matches on the radio, or debating which jelly was the best in the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches they had for dinner sometimes. Day trips to what really was an outdoor museum hadn’t been part of their lives, and then, when he was at St. Agnes, he was the blind kid whose disability had to be taken into account. Most of the time, he’d said he preferred to stay at the orphanage rather than go to the pool or the museum or wherever they went where he’d be expected to sit and wait, or have special help that he didn’t really need. He’d survived Stick, hadn’t he? He could have survived the pool on his own. But he couldn't have said that, so he claimed he had homework or did his best to get grounded.

Jessica’s voice cut into his musings. “Are you planning to sulk all day?”

“What?”

“You’ve been frowning like you want to burn the entire park with the power of your hate or something.”

“Pretty sure you’re not beaming with joy.”

“I never beam with joy, don’t be disgusting. That’s a Danny thing.”

“Point.” Matt focused on him for a moment. “Sounds like he and Luke are having fun, at least.”

“Yeah, they’ve been checking plants and animals on some phone app and seeing who can recognize the most.” Matt felt her shrug in the arm he was holding. “They’re not listening to us.”

“Got anything to say?”

“I thought you might.”

“I don’t have anything to say.”

“Thank fuck.” She tore her arm off from him to rummage in her bag, extracting a flask from it. She took a pull before holding it out to Matt. “Want some? Luke’s not watching.”

“Hell yeah.” Matt let the alcohol burn his tongue and entire mouth before swallowing. He enjoyed the fire; it felt like just what he needed. “Did they tell you to get me to talk or something?”

“Or something, yeah. I’m not a shrink, but they wouldn't listen. Luke said, ‘Come on Jess, you two’ve got a rapport,’ as if… ew. We’re not friends, Murdock.”

“Oh, no. Absolutely not.”

“Right.”

“Good.”

“Yeah.”

“Good talk.”

He took her arm again and they trudged on, but Matt felt a bit less like attacking trees and a bit more like all this nature was at least not out to get him. The booze must have mellowed him out.

After about an hour of this, finally, Danny declared it to be lunch time. Picnicking was only allowed in one particular area that included the word ‘family’ in its name, and Matt hoped – probably futilely – that they wouldn’t be surrounded by noisy children and arguing parents, on top of the mixing food smells. Maybe the cold weather would push people to the indoors dining options, but…

As they got nearer the Clay pavilions, he could already tell there were about a half-dozen groups there; but the area was big enough they could find a table a bit away from the more crowded area, and Matt breathed a little easier. He felt tired and crabby; he didn’t want to be there, but on the other hand it wasn’t fair to Danny. It wasn’t a bad idea for friends to do things together, and Foggy’s mom kept extolling the virtues of The Countryside; she actually said it with Capital Letters.

Since they’d retired, Anna and Edward had taken up vacationing, a thing they’d never really done before, and they rented places out of the city to… do whatever it was people would do there. She kept urging everyone else to do the same, and no one contradicted her; Theo was probably quite happy to run the deli without his parents breathing down his neck.

Maybe he could tell her about this outing today; Hey, I went to the NY Botanical Gardens with some friends who aren’t Foggy and Karen; we walked under trees and had a picnic outside in the cold. She’d probably approve. Matt just wanted the day to be over so he could get back home, put on his outfit, and go out again as… Daredevil, or however the papers called him now after Poindexter – or Fisk, really – stole his identity.

At least, when he was out, he could do good; he could do what he couldn't as an attorney, and what else was he on this earth for? He’d sworn to help, and he could do that with the law and as a fighter. Sure, he knew now he couldn't go it alone all the time; he wouldn't have gone anywhere without Foggy, and Jess, Luke, and Danny were good occasional partners when he didn’t have a choice, but really…

“Stop moping and have some mulled wine,” Luke said. A warm plastic cup was shoved into his hands and the outside world crashed back into his senses; cinnamon and nutmeg, laughter, the swish of Jess’s scarf against her jacket and Danny’s humming as he unpacked his and Luke’s bags. They’d been carrying a backpack each and Matt hadn’t really wondered what had been in there. It turned out they’d brought enough food for ten, although given the gurgling coming from Danny’s stomach maybe they’d make a decent dent into it.

Matt got his sandwich out; it was cold, as intended. Right in front of him, on the table, Danny and Luke had spread salads and dips and cheese and chips and… oh, some of it was warm; they’d been carrying insulated food boxes, too. But Matt hadn’t chipped in, not even to carry any of it, and it didn’t feel right to help himself. He had his sandwich, after all, and he was pretty sure it would be tasty.

“Come on, have some dim sum! And bao!”

“I don’t…”

“Stop it with the martyr face, Murdock. There’s food; we eat. You can keep your sub for dinner.” Jessica pushed some boxes in his direction. “You know Danny can afford it, right? It’s their problem if they decided to carry it all on their own. Now eat.”

So he finally took the chopsticks Luke was holding out to him, dug in, and found he was, in fact, ravenous.

What Matt had thought was enough to feed ten had, in fact, been enough for four, and there wasn’t a lot left over. Once they were done, Danny made neat little piles and wrote their names with a sharpie that Luke extracted from his jacket, and Luke gathered their trash and took it to a can like the community-oriented man he was.

“Let’s hit the orchid show,” he said.

Matt wasn’t too enthusiastic about a greenhouse filled with too many competing scents but Danny, of course, was all for it. Thankfully, Jessica insisted they got coffee first, and Matt backed her. He felt a bit more upbeat after the meal; a full belly apparently doing wonder for his mood, not that he’d admit to it out loud.

So first they went to the coffee shop, Luke queuing for them after taking everyone’s orders, and when he came back with six cups (two Americanos each for Matt and Jess, a spice- and sugar-heavy concoction for Danny, and one tea for Luke himself) Jessica produced another flask from a pocket and doctored her, than Matt’s, drinks. Luke sighed, but he didn’t say anything, only handed back the booze he’d confiscated earlier.

“See, Matt? I behaved, and daddy thinks I deserve to get my candy back.”

“Are you allowed to call him daddy?”

She slapped Matt’s arm, and after finishing their (or most of, in two cases) drinks they sauntered to the giant greenhouse that housed the orchid show. Matt braced himself and focused on the smell of coffee and whiskey lingering in his mostly empty cup; Luke handed their tickets at the booth, and they were in.

It was, Matt reflected later, a mixed blessing he’d already drunk most of his coffee. It meant the smells made his stomach roil even more, yes, but also that when he dropped his cup, it didn’t spill coffee everywhere on his clothes.

“Holy shit,” Jessica said.

Danny was just as surprised: “Is that…? Isn’t she…?” He never finished his question.

Luke only sucked in a breath.

And Matt, well. Matt had stopped moving, breathing, and his heart had possibly stopped beating. Time, he was certain, had truly stopped.

“Matthew. Fancy seeing you here.”

He made a sound, something between a squeak and a sob. Not his finest moment.

“What’s she doing here?”

“Ms. Jones; always a pleasure. And I’m doing the same as you are: getting an education.”

Jessica grabbed Matt’s arm and yanked him back. “You’re not supposed to be here. We had a deal.”

Matt tried to speak again, and failed again. A deal?

“Well, I only agreed to your terms because they were convenient. I didn’t even break them willingly; I came here because why not, and I never imagined your little ragtag band would come here.”

“I don’t,” Matt finally managed.

“Oh, Matthew.” She stepped closer, and Jessica jerked him further back again. “I came to New York for a job.”

“As a gardener? Botanist?” Danny sounded angry, which didn’t bode well.

“My mark isn’t a botanist and I’m not planning to change careers, but I do love orchids.” There were teeth in her smile, and probably many knives on her person.

Matt’s heart was beating again, and now it was way too fast. He was on the verge of hyperventilating; he could feel it. “You’re alive?”

“Shit,” Luke swore.

“But you said… didn’t you say?”

“They told you I was dead, Matthew, and they lied. They lied to you.”

“But why?”

“Because every time you end up near each other, you nearly die. She’s toxic, Matt. No!” Jess’s grip tightened on his biceps, and her strength, when she wanted you to stay put, wasn’t easy to fight.

“She’s not wrong, Matthew. You and I… it hasn’t really done you much good.”

“That’s not true. You showed me…” So many things. The highest of highs and the lowest of lows, love and hate, elation and despair. Life and death, too. Manipulation, yes, but also acceptance, even freedom. He shook his head; he had too many words and his mouth wasn’t cooperating. “Don’t leave again.”

“I’m only here for a hit, Matthew. I can’t stay. I won’t; I’d rather leave than hurt you again.”

“That’s… kind of sweet. And sad.” Matt sensed Danny’s chi powering down and realized he hadn’t even felt him turn it up before, but his hair was standing on end and the air tasted like ozone. No one seemed to be aware of the tension, the crowd flowing around them like they would have around any chance meeting between people; maybe they couldn’t tell how on edge the five of them were.

Matt could.

He shook Jess’s hand off and walked to her. To… “Elektra.”

“Matthew.” She didn’t step any closer.

“Let’s walk.” He held out his arm, cane held in front of him in his other hand, and finally – finally – she moved. To him. His fingers slid up from her wrist to her elbow, and he felt so much lighter suddenly.

“A walk and talk, eh? How quaint. I trust your very protective friends will make sure I don’t push you into the carnivorous plants corner, yes?”

“There aren’t carnivorous orchids, right?”

“No, Danny, there aren’t.”

“We shouldn't let her – ”

“Fuck off, Jess; I’m not your problem child.” He’d fight her, if he had to; he’d fight any and all of them. “I can make my own decisions about my own life.”

Jessica drew in some air to reply but Luke moved – he grabbed her shoulder. “Let them be, for now.” He crouched to pick up the empty cup Matt had dropped earlier before adding, “We’ll be around.”

Matt’s nostrils flared but he only tugged on Elektra’s arm, and they walked in further into the orchid exhibit. He didn’t know what to say, where to start; he was pinballing between anger and joy, and it made him all tongue-tied. He needed to put his thoughts in order, so once they were a little bit away from Danny, Luke, and Jess, he said: “Tell me about the flowers.”

She didn’t seem surprised, and he focused on her voice to anchor himself to the new reality of her being alive and to push away the sensory assault of so many plants in one enclosed space.

He cut off her mid-sentence, while she was describing… flowers. He’d been listening to her voice, not so much the words. “A hit. You said you were here for a hit.”

She didn’t reply right away, taking her time. “I did.”

“Who?”

“No one you need to worry your pretty head for.”

“Elektra…”

“I mean it, Matthew. They are not worth your concern.”

“You can’t just kill people!”

“I can, and I will; you know that. And this is why you and I…” She sighed. “I am weeding out who’s left of those cults that stole our lives, and my death. This is revenge, pure and simple, and I’ll take it. You can’t stop me; I won’t let you.”

“But I thought – I thought you wanted this. Us.” He heard his voice waver, but it didn’t crack. He wouldn’t let it.

“This is not about what I want. What I want, what you want, isn’t what we need. It’s not what I can be. I do not know, I will never know, if Stick chose to train me because he saw what I could be, or if the training made me this way. He left you, Matthew, because the training would have destroyed you. You couldn’t be his soldier, but I could. I will always be a killer; I started on that path even earlier than what Stick expected. I was precocious. You, Matthew… your heart won’t allow you, and I will not let you destroy it for me.”

“You leaving again will destroy me.”

“You survived before; you’ll survive again. You are not alone: you have friends; you have your church.”

“They’re not you.”

She turned him around so they faced each other. “I love you; I always will. This is why I am making that choice: because you can’t make it yourself. Because I have that ruthlessness you don’t, because your heart guides you but mine doesn’t me. Do you understand?”

He planted his feet more firmly, as if he was a rock and nothing would make him budge. “No.”

“You’ve always been so stubborn,” she said.

“That's why you love me.”

“I wouldn't say that’s why, no.” But there was such fondness in her voice that Matt didn’t believe her for one moment. “Oh, wipe that smug grin off your face, Matthew. I stand by what I said.”

“No.”

They stayed there, almost in a stand-off, while the crowd parted and flowed around them like a river. Three familiar heartbeats came closer, and finally Jessica spoke.

“Are you about to fight?”

“We’re going to the…” Danny paused to, from what Matt could tell, check a paper map. “The Benenson Ornamental Conifers. Like, Christmas trees? We’re going to the Christmas trees garden. Wanna come?”

“Elektra,” Matt said.

“No, your murder kitten girlfriend isn’t welcome.” Jessica took a step forward and Matt took a step backward, closer to Elektra. “She shouldn’t even be here.”

“Murder kitten?” Elektra was delighted.

“Stop it, the both of you.” Luke had had enough. “We can talk about it like adults.”

“Oh, we can, can’t we?” Matt pointed a finger at Luke. “Like how you all decided what was good for me, without telling me? That ‘we’? I’m not a child.”

“We were worried, and not only us. Claire was worried; Foggy was worried… We only want to help.”

“No. You don’t. I don’t need you to save me from her! I don’t need to be saved!”

“Oh, Matthew. They’re not saving you from me; they’re saving you from yourself.”

“And you agreed to it.”

“I did.”

“Because you thought I couldn't make my own decisions.” Even Elektra. He stepped away from her, too; they’d all betrayed him.

“Look, you died, man. Or, we thought you died. You stayed there; you chose to die, and we’d just met! That’s not cool. Don’t do that again.”

“Danny took it particularly hard,” Luke added.

“I didn’t! We all did!”

Matt turned his back on them all and shook his head. “Don’t follow me,” he said. “I’ll know.”

And he left the Garden.

He walked out of the giant orchid greenhouse, asked for directions to the exit, and listened. Really listened. He knew the city; the sounds of it - the river, the cars, the people, the trains… He could tell North and South, East and West; the sun was high enough it was easy to orient himself. He could tell where home was.

Once he knew what direction to take, he started to walk. Hell’s Kitchen was a long way away, but walking would do him good; he wasn’t up to the subway or the bus anyway. He needed air, and maybe he’d take to the roofs in a moment; for now he just strode straight ahead, his cane clearing the way before him more than telling him about any obstacle. He didn’t need some helpful idiot to come and ask if he needed help; he wanted people to see him and think Whoa, I’m going to get whacked, and steer away.

He was furious. They’d… conspired, conspired to keep him – hah – in the dark, thought they knew better than him. Thought they were protecting him. And it made him even more furious because he’d done that himself. He’d done that to Foggy, kept things from him because he’d been afraid of his reaction, of what would have happened if he had told him about his senses, about his fighting.

He hadn’t, and he’d almost lost Foggy.

And then he hadn’t told him he was alive, and that had been another terrible choice.

But it was par for the course, after all; many people in Matt’s life had kept things from him. Many had lied to… protect him, they would say, and in the end just make him hurt more. Who would be surprised he’d done that himself?

He walked; he walked for more than two hours until the city noises got too much for his already heightened state and he flagged a cab.

“Clinton Church,” he said.

He needed quiet, and the familiar underground space where the stone, the close walls and low ceiling, the smell of wood and incense and damp would give him some peace, or at least he hoped so.

Maggie found him sitting on the crypt floor, leaning against a stone bench, his head resting on his raised knees.

She stood for a moment, presumably looking down at him, before sitting on the bench.

“Rough day?” she asked.

“I don’t want to talk.”

“Hm.”

Slowly, as they were silent together, his limbs loosened. She didn’t say anything, but somehow he felt the tension drain out and he lifted his head up a little.

“I’ve got potatoes to peel. Come and make yourself useful, Matthew.”

So he got to his feet and followed her to the kitchen.

When he walked back home, he felt – not happy, but at least more… settled. Matt could understand how they’d felt they were helping, how his not-quite-death had rattled them. If he were to be honest with himself, which yes, Foggy, he could be sometimes, his history with Elektra in particular wasn’t really an example of level-headedness and self-preservation; that was what made being around her such a thrill.

Meeting her again, knowing she’d survived after all, and then finding out she’d agreed to hide it from him… It was a lot for one day. The comforting smells and noises of the church, the repetitive motions of peeling and chopping, those had soothed him; now he was looking forward to some meditation and maybe going out later in the night, although things had been quiet enough lately he might just stay in and work on some cases for the firm.

He knew she was there as soon as he got to his floor.

He’d half-expected it, of course, but it still made his heart beat faster, his breaths quicker.

He opened the door, took his time folding and hanging his cane, taking off his coat; once he was done he went to stand in front of the couch where she was sitting. Waiting for him, really.

“Are you here to decide for me again?” he asked.

“I am here because I want to decide for myself, and take what I want.”

“And what is that?”

“You.”

“I thought you’d agreed otherwise.”

“Well, I didn’t have much of a choice back then; they were determined to save you from me, and I was still… ah. Not fully myself. I couldn't have fought them all, not in the state I was in. And back then, they were right.”

He sat on the other end of the couch, closer but not – not yet – touching her. “How so?”

“I was just out from under the rubble, still weak, still confused about who I was. I remembered you; I remembered bits of myself, but I needed time to regroup. I agreed, and then I left.”

“And now you’re back in New York, for a hit.”

“Well, also for a hit.” The smile in her voice was obvious. “I am certainly invested in uprooting what’s left of the Hand and the Chaste, and appropriating their assets while I’m at it, but it would be a lie to say I didn’t want to see you again. I’ve missed you.”

Matt shook his head. Elektra juggling several goals at the same time, yes, that was her to a point. But her saying she’d missed him… he didn’t want to be manipulated again. “I want to believe you, but…”

“We are free. We are both free; what was true before isn’t any longer, Matthew. I know who I am now, and I am only accountable to myself. This is the first time that we can truly see what we could be, you and I. Aren’t you curious?”

Oh, he was. He didn’t reply out loud; he was pretty sure she could tell anyway.

“Then let us try, Matthew.”

“You travel all around the world; you like expensive things and you fight to kill. I have never left the city; I’m still paying off debt and I hope, I really hope, I’ll never intentionally kill anyone. Can we do this, Elektra? Can we do this, and not crash and burn?” He wanted to believe, but he didn’t dare.

“I want to find out. Don’t you?” She reached out to take his hand, tug him closer to her.

He did. God have pity on him, because he did.

The next morning, Foggy called.

He’d seen the local news, and it was all talking about the same thing: when he went out that night, Daredevil wasn’t alone. Foggy said the picture of him kissing a mysterious lady that he’d, of course, recognized right away, was cute enough, when you didn’t know about Elektra's stabby tendencies. But he did, and he worried.

“I am not cute, Franklin.”

“Aaaaah! Oh my god, she’s with you. Let me talk to her!”

He threatened her with legal fisticuffs, grumbled some more at Matt about not getting in over his head with ninjas and occult shit again, but finally Matt cut him off.

“I know, Fogs; I’ll be careful.” He smiled at the ceiling and took Elektra’s hand under the cover, thought about Luke, and Danny, and Jessica, thought about Maggie. Elektra squeezed back. “But I’m not alone, yeah? If there are ninjas again, we won’t be alone.” She was right; things were different now. They were different. “I promise I won’t make the same mistakes again.” He paused. “New ones, maybe. Keep you on your toes and everything.”

“Please don’t, buddy.” Foggy’s voice softened. “Just… you take care, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, you will. Promise. Bye, Fogs.”

Elektra took the phone from him and put it on the bedside table before leaning over him, her long hair brushing his face.

“So we’ve got an entire day to do as we please, right?”

“Yes.” He settled his hands on her hips. “Exactly as we please.”