Chapter Text
Ringing silence reigns in the room as Daredevil storms out, his last words a late gunshot after a volley of gunfire. Clint can see how everyone’s chests are heaving, as the force of Daredevil’s words… no, the power of Daredevil’s anguished voice, leaves everyone breathless. And sitting in Clint’s mind are flashes; the split second of blind panic on Daredevil’s face when asked to read a screen, him staring at a wall as they fought over him in that debriefing, silent as the grave...
A figure in red seemingly about to be held up by a bloody hand around his throat, his arms loose and unmoving by his side, and his knees already starting a fall towards the ground as Clint’s arrow leaves his bow.
‘What the hell does he mean he’s perfectly capable of reading?’ Tony’s voice is a whipcrack through the silence; loud and making everyone unprepared for it flinch. ‘Seriously, what the hell?’
‘Of the things he said,’ Clint finds himself saying, his voice soft but a cutting edge that has Nat giving her equivalent of a wide eyed look, ‘ that’s what you’re focusing on?’
Tony blinks at Clint, his jaw creeping towards the ground. ‘What do you mean? Out of everything he said that was th-’
‘It was our fault,’ Bruce interrupts, causing everyone’s attention to snap to him. ‘Daredevil’s injuries. They were our fault. That’s what you should have taken from what he said.’
‘How’d you figure that?’ For all Tony’s arrogance, there’s a note of confusion in his voice. ‘It’s not our fault he made a stupid choice.’
‘It is our fault he was in a position to make that choice in the first place,’ Bruce snaps , and Clint takes an instinctive, sharp breath, dropping down from his perch on the bar so he can move back. Like a wave, his movement spreads through the room as everyone backs a step away from Bruce; standard practice in the risk of a Hulk event. Bruce insists.
But he seems to have it under control, not even a hint of green in his face or body. He just stares at Tony for a long moment, then turns on his heel and storms out much like Daredevil did not minutes earlier.
Maybe not so under control after all.
Steve sighs, his body sagging as he collapses back onto the couch. ‘We fucked up,’ he says in a voice that should be a whisper but it carries in the silent room.
‘Well, we might have made some unfortunate assumptions,’ Tony says.
‘We. Fucked. Up,’ Steve says in his confident, frozen Captain America voice. He’s pissed . ‘We fucked up and to not admit to it is as bad as what we did in the first place.’
‘Steve-’
‘Do you know what it’s like to be ignored?’ Steve asks in a quiet voice, quieter than Clint’s ever heard, that seems to echo in the room. ‘Do you know what it’s like to have your worth as a person, as a human, judged not by what you can do but by what you can’t? Have you ever had anyone, subtly or overtly, tell you your skills and abilities are worth less because you’re not capable of doing what everyone else is doing?’
There’s a tension in the room, everyone holding their breaths at the depth of emotion, of empathy and pain in Steve’s voice. ‘I do. And… and I forgot. I let you make assumptions… I made assumptions myself, and that caused a good man, an ally… it caused Daredevil to experience what I swore I’d use my new body to exterminate. So yeah. We fucked up. I fucked up and we’re going to make sure it never happens again. We’re going to make sure he gets what we denied him.’
‘What was that?’ Nat asks, her voice softer than anything Clint’s ever heard from her.
‘Respect. Respect for him, with no changes and no denials; no matter how hard we find it. Maybe then, we’ll actually be the heroes we all claim to be.’
********
Steve’s speech - dramatic, yet to the point - knocks any fight out of Tony… of all of them. They drift to their floors to think, to remember…
To wait.
Clint takes his aids out, fiddling with them as he sits on his bed and thinks. This is all his fault…
‘Seriously though, what did you say to Daredevil Cap? He took off like a bat outa hell.’
‘You’re not funny Barton.’
‘I’m hilarious Stark.’
‘I think he was embarrassed about being nervous of the bomb and misreading the timer.’
‘Geez, Daredevil seems to have bad luck with written things…’
Words have power, Clint knows that. Voices and sounds can make people do and think so much and for a lot of his life, he never quite got that. Spoken words are sometimes denied to him, even if he can work around the problem. The written word is and always been a sanctuary for him. But what does it mean to have that sanctuary and yet seemingly not be able to access it?
He made the assumption Daredevil has issues with the written word. They made the collective assumption this was because he was illiterate. But he’s not, he’s said so. Which leaves only one option…
Clint’s not the only ‘superhero’ with a disability out there.
And he’s the reason the other person is suffering.
If he hadn’t first put voice to an assumption, would it have lead to a theory? If he’d not helped find evidence, would they have called it a conclusion? If he’d spoken up a little louder, would Tony have been as obsessed with ‘fixing’ the ‘problem’?
If he’d been decent and stopped, just for a moment, to think, would he have realised he’s not the only disabled superhero around in time to spare Daredevil from the cruelties of the ignorant?
His hearing aids have no answers and turning them over and over in his hands only makes them warm.
********
Daredevil made it clear the moment he stormed out despite being barely able to walk, what he thinks of the Avengers. Clint doesn’t blame him at all; even he screwed up, presuming to speak for the man despite knowing basically nothing about his needs. Just because Clint’s deaf, doesn’t mean he has the right to speak for anyone else. He might not have been as ableist as the others but he did still screw up.
Leaving Daredevil alone until he’s ready to talk is the hardest thing Clint’s ever going to do. But he’ll do it, because it’s been made clear any other action is not helping.
So walking into the common room the morning after Daredevil’s dramatic exit, Clint feels something hot and heavy running through his veins at the sight of what Tony has on the screens.
‘What are you doing?’ He asks, in a voice he usually reserves for dangerous and insane marks.
Tony barely glances at him, caught up as he is in the many images on the various screens that make up their ridiculous and somewhat over the top home entertainment system. ‘Security camera footage. Cellphone photos. Artist renderings.’
‘Daredevil,’ Clint sums up, examining a photo of Daredevil in his old black suit, clearly taken from a dodgy security camera.
‘Daredevil,’ Tony confirms. ‘He said he can read but somehow he can still figh-’
‘You’re an idiot,’ Clint says with a growl and Tony turns to look at him outraged. ‘Firstly, you’re doing exactly what he called you out for last night and invading his privacy illegally.’
‘He’s a vigilante, that’s not exactly a position he can argue legalities from.’
Clint swipes the picture he’s examining away, pulling up one of the ‘Information Wanted’ posters that occasionally pop up, asking to bring in Daredevil. ‘Are you going to turn him in? Because that’s the only vaguely justifiable reason for you to break the law in pursuit of his identity.’
‘I don’t want to know who he is,’ Tony lies, his eyes giving the deception away. ‘I just want to know how he does what he does.’
Wait, how he fights? ‘Like I do?’ Clint says, confused. He buries the slight pain in his heart, not letting a flicker of it into his voice. He’s not going to be hurt by Tony assuming disabled heroes need something extra to do their jobs, even when the problem doesn’t affect their work.
Tony blinks and gives Clint a perplexed look. ‘What do you mean like you do? You can read, you’ve never put your life in danger for pride. You’r-’
‘Disabled. Like he is. Did you miss that point last night?’ Clint can’t keep the note of complete disbelief out of his voice. He knows that sometimes Tony can be oblivious to things, can overlook the obvious when making enormous leaps of genius, but this has to take the cake. He’s looking for something that doesn’t exist in order to solve the wrong problem .
‘Wait what? Disabled? But he’s nearly a superhe-’
Disgust sinks into Clint’s stomach and he turns with all the speed and grace his years of training can give him. ‘If you think you can’t have a disabled superhero Tony, you’re not the man I thought you were, deep down.’
Behind him, he can almost hear the sound of Tony’s brain whirring away, processing what must have been a bombshell to it, but Clint can’t find it in himself to care.
He walks into Steve on the way to his room, a collision only minor because of Steve’s reflexes. ‘Clint? You okay?’ Clint raises an eyebrow at him and he smiles. ‘Okay, bad question. What’s up?’
‘Stark. He ah, missed the implications of last night’s little talk with our resident vigilante.’ Steve’s face drops and a hard glint comes into his eyes. ‘He’s looking over footage, trying to figure out how someone could both be able to read and not able to read; but also how they could fight in spite of it.’ He laughs, a dead and unamused sound. ‘I also think he’s trying to track Daredevil down.’
The glint is now a glare. ‘I’ll talk with him. I’ve already talked with Thor this morning though he at least seems to realise we screwed up.’
Clint bites his lip then adds, ‘I think we should talk to Daredevil… make sure he realises we got it, what he said last night. And… and that we’re going to change.’
Steve turns that hard glare onto Clint and for a moment he fights the urge to fidget under the patriotic glare of Captain America. Then his eyes lower and he nods. ‘Yes, we should. I know he’ll not want to see us but…’
‘But we need to talk to him.’ Clint considers it then swallows. ‘You go.’ At Steve’s raised eyebrow he elaborates, ‘You’re faster and I doubt he’s going to be in the ‘come and chat’ mood. No way can I catch him in Hell’s Kitchen, but you might have a shot.‘
To Clint’s relief, Steve gives him a careful nod. He manages to keep his shoulders raised and not sagging in delighted relief at the realisation he doesn’t have to face Daredevil.
Face what he did.
********
It takes Steve nearly three weeks to track Daredevil down.
The first week is the worst, with no sightings of the horned vigilante leading Clint to internally panic about having killed the man. Only once he starts surfacing in the second week does this panic dissipate. It’s probably the first time in Clint’s life hearing about violent beatings and terrified crooks is a good thing.
Okay, the terrified crooks are always a good thing. Violent beatings, not so much.
Steve comes in the ninth night, practically marching with the resolve in steadiness of his shoulders and measured steps. Somehow it’s a signal to the team, with everyone assembling in the common room - the very same one Daredevil had chewed them out in.
‘You found the hornhead?’ Tony asks, his eyes tight as he ignores everyone’s stares.
‘Yes. He had a message for us, about what he wants.’
‘Finally! Give it to us.’
‘Leave him alone.’ Steve’s words are like a lightning bolt into the room, everyone pausing and holding their breath as they wait for the thunder. ‘He needs nothing from us, so we’re to stay out of Hell’s Kitchen unless he calls.’
It’s silent for a long moment, two. Then the thunder comes, in the form of Tony speaking. ‘So wait, what if we have business in Hell’s Kitchen? Do I have to avoid that whole ten blocks on my commute or is that a free pass?’
‘He means,’ Nat says, her words precise and bitten off, ‘that he wants the Avengers to stay out of Hell’s Kitchen. Tony Stark can go as he pleases; Iron Man is not welcome.’
Tony opens his mouth to speak but Thor beats him to it, his booming voice one no one could speak over. ‘It is a difficult request to honour, to ignore a shield brother we have caused such pain to but it is his request?’ Steve nods and Thor returns it. ‘Then it would be a dishonour if we were to ignore his desire. What form shall the call take?’
‘Clint’s phone,’ Steve says.
‘Ah, the cellular devices. Reasonable.’
With that, Thor walks out. It’s clear he sees the issue as simple and solved. Until Daredevil calls, leave him alone. Easy.
Clint just hopes it is.
*********
It’s not easy.
It’s not about not being able to follow Steve’s orders - Daredevil’s really, just passed to them by Steve - and staying out of Hell’s Kitchen. Staying away from Daredevil. It’s about the personalities they have, and how they deal with problems. Namely that waiting to confront one is not a solution any Avenger would think of.
Clint’s never been one to think much on his decisions or actions, much to his teammates’ displeasure. Given a choice, Clint would rather act than choose to wait.
An odd mindset for a marksman and a sniper but Clint’s never claimed to be ‘normal’.
And he’s not alone. None of the Avengers are the type to run from a problem; if they were they probably wouldn’t be here. Bruce runs to protect people from himself, taking the problem with him to solve alone; Tony will seem to ignore the problem until either he has a solution or it’s no longer a problem; Steve and Thor have never heard of this ‘running’ you speak of; Sam does everything Steve does but slower; and Nat… well Nat causes problems or solves them, she doesn’t run.
Clint, he’s just too dumb to run and too impulsive to think of it anyway..
But Clint knows this time confronting the problem isn’t going to help unless they confront the right one. And right now, Daredevil - he has no right to call him Mike, not anymore - has made it clear it’s all of them.
Well, that’s what Clint thinks until he gets the call a month after Daredevil’s demands.
********
Clint doesn’t check the caller ID before answering, aware the only people with his number are his teammates who are all here, as far as he knows. ‘You know I’m in the kitchen right? Just ask J.A.R.V.I.S where I am, I’m sure he knows.’
Nothing but silence greets him, so complete that Clint finds himself checking that yes he has his aids in and yes there’s a call, he’s not ima- Oh.
The caller ID reads Daredevil. ‘Daredevil? You there?’
‘Ah, yes. I am. Guessing from that you’re not busy then?’
Confused delight spreads through Clint, a warmness that has him smiling. ‘Not overly, no. Just debating if stealing Tony or Nat’s food will be more amusing.’ Both are notoriously territorial over their food and likely to kill Clint for stealing it. Well, Nat is. Hmm, maybe better to steal Tony’s then; less risk of bloody death. ‘What do you need?’
‘I have… I got word,’ he says, frustration clear in every syllable, ‘of a shipment into Hell’s Kitchen. Old weapons and technology, stolen during the fall of SHIELD. ’ Something cold races through Clint’s veins at the thought of half of the things SHIELD had in their armoury loose on the streets of Hell’s Kitchen. ‘I interrupted it,’ Daredevil continues and there’s an amused note in his voice at the understatement, ‘ but now I have containers of items I cannot leave but there’s too much for me to take.’
‘What do you need then?’
A long pause then, ‘ Someone… someone trustworthy to help me destroy as much of this as I can without risking lives.’
Clint has to grin. ‘You want me to come destroy shit? Hell yeah! Where am I going?’ He can’t keep the delight out of his voice and doesn’t try to. This, this is definitely his thing.
Daredevil rattles off an address, right in the centre of Hell’s Kitchen. Which tempers Clint’s delight… quite a lot actually. Some of the SHIELD tech is dangerous and prone to blowing up; SHIELD always kept their weapons secured. And now it’s sitting in the middle of an urban population, guarded only by a guardian devil.
‘I’m there. Don’t move anything if you can.’ Clint pauses then adds, ‘It’ll just be me, un-’
‘ That’s all I want.’
‘Then that’s all you’ll get.’
*********
Daredevil’s left the door to the apartment - one of maybe ten in the building, one of the nicer and definitely not abandoned ones around - ajar. Clint slips in, having made it to Hell’s Kitchen in record time.
‘Took you long enough,’ Daredevil says, his back to the door as he runs a careful hand over one of the many boxes crowding the apartment. It’s a nice place; bare of any furniture in order to have space for all the boxes. So many boxes. Clint didn’t think SHIELD had this much tech lying around to be stolen honestly.
‘Well, you know traffic this time of night,’ Clint quips back. ‘And you’d have looked a right idiot if that wasn’t me.’
Daredevil cocks his head, giving Clint the distinction impression he’s smiling. ‘Knew it was you.’
‘Bullshit,’ Clint jokes as he kneels down beside Daredevil. ‘What have we got?’
‘This crate is guns, I think,’ Daredevil says as he stands. ‘Most of them are. Those I can deal with myself, or leave for the police.’
‘Lead me to what you need my help with. That’s why I’m here. To help.’ Clint straightens too, reading over the labels on random boxes. He pauses, noting a pale blue label on a black background. Why does that look familiar?
‘Clint?’
‘What’s that one, labeled lab parts?’ Daredevil shifts to stand beside it and together they get it onto the floor and open. Clint hisses in anger at the sight of glass vials, sitting innocently and wrapped only in bubble wrap.
Daredevil cocks his head. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Biological samples. In bubble wrap . Are they nuts?’ Clint can’t help the anger racing through him leaking into his voice. Oh God this has suddenly become a thousand times worse. As far as he can see none of the vials have been broken, but that’s only what he can visually confirm; the sheer amount of bubble wrap is distorting everything to the point where he can barely tell that the liquid in the vials is a deep, dark red. He’s going to end up in a decontamination shower, he knows it. Or worse.
‘Wouldn’t they be dead without refrigeration?’ Surprise races through Clint at Daredevil’s insightful comment, followed quickly by shame at his surprise.
‘Not if they’ve been engineered to not need it. Which-’ Clint trails off, shame choking at his words.
‘Which SHIELD did,’ Daredevil finishes. ‘Get them out of my city,’ he growls.
Clint nods. ‘I’ll call… I’ll call the FBI; the CDC. Everyone. Your choice if you stay or go…’ If these have been opened we’re both dead, he thinks but doesn’t say.
Somehow Daredevil knows what he’s thinking. ‘They’re not broken.’
‘What?’
‘The vials. None of them are broken. And this is the only box in here that doesn’t hold some form of weapon.’
Blinking in confusion, Clint turns to stare at him. ‘How can you tell?’ he asks in a mild but confused voice. A second later he realises he just doubted Daredevil and his heart picks up in fear and disgust.
To his surprise, Daredevil just smiles. ‘I can tell. I’ll… I’ll leave. Get myself decontaminated.’ He bites his lip, looking uncertain, then rises.
He’s halfway out the door before Clint can get an answer to his lips. ‘You have a decontamination shower?’ he manages to say and that gets Daredevil to pause.
‘No, but I’ll do my best anyway.’
*********
It’s five in the morning, a mere half hour from sunrise before Clint manages to escape the clutches of the CDC. Daredevil’s claim proves to be true; none of the other crates have biological samples and none of the ones they do have have broken. They’re also, on a second examination, blood samples not viruses. Still dangerous but not as dangerous as first thought.
Clint manages to avoid a decontamination shower.
Pleased with his luck and skills, he decides to take the short way back to the Tower, racing along the roofs of Hell’s Kitchen. It’s been too long since he used his Parkour skills and he’s starting to see why this is Daredevil’s prefered method of transport. The roofs here are a lot more fun to play on than the ones near the Tower - and with less grumpy rich people.
Two blocks from the building he spots a figure in black, hiding from the rising sun in the last shadows of the night. He finds himself stopping even before it fully registers in his mind, slowing his movements so he stops on that roof.
‘Daredevil?’ He asks and the figure half steps out of the shadows. It’s enough for him to see it is Daredevil, wearing his old ‘Devil of Hell’s Kitchen’ get up. ‘Gone back to the old days?’
‘Figured I didn’t need my suit right now. I’m not expecting a fight.’ His voice is soft and nowhere as deep as usual. ‘You’re alright?’ There’s also a note of amusement in his question, as if-
Clint groans. ‘You knew it was blood not viruses, didn’t you?’
Daredevil shrugs but his lips twitch. Asshole is seconds from smiling, Clint can tell.. ‘I had an inkling.’
‘I was worried.’
‘I know.’
‘This is revenge, isn’t it?’
It’s the wrong thing to say. Daredevil’s shoulders stiffen, his head tilts up and his breathing picks up. ‘Revenge?’
‘For fucking up,’ Clint says. ‘Because I seriously fucked up and you’re welcome to as much revenge as you want because I deserve it.’
Daredevil’s head tilts, his shoulders dropping slightly. ‘You know what you did wrong.’
It’s not a question but Clint answers anyway. ‘Yes. I know. I might… I might not have done what the others did but I spoke for you and I fucked up.’ He gathers all his courage into a deep breath and whispers, ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Okay.’
He turns on his heels and walks directly towards the rising sun. Clint tries to follow his path but the sun bites at his vision and he throws up an arm to shield himself. By the time he gets his arm into a position where he can see what’s happening and still have shade, Daredevil is gone.
*********
Thus starts a somewhat unusual period of Clint’s life.
Well almost as unusual as the period of his life where he’s the deaf, ex-carnie on a team of superheroes who regularly save the world. Though since he is still that life period, does this count as being a part of that period of his life?
Okay, metaphor got away from him there. Anyway, things get odd. Daredevil - ‘call me Mike, Clint, I said that was fine.’ - doesn’t call a lot but he does call. Most of the calls boil down to: ‘I’m about to go beat someone up who’s bigger than me and my people worry. Wanna come beat them up with me so my people will worry less?’.
Clint’s not one to say no to beating people up in the name of justice. It’s a hell of a lot better than killing them, and he’s done his fair share of that; sometimes for the wrong people (SHIELD is now the wrong people, and it hurts more than anything so Clint ignores it). No one comments on his bi-weekly or monthly disappearance act, but Clint’s not dumb enough to think it goes unnoticed.
He doesn’t care though. He’s too busy hanging with D- Mike, who turns out to both have a wicked sense of humour and possibly be a complete dork .
Clint’s never felt so delighted to be making a friend. Even when it leads to situations like this.
‘You alive down there?’ Mike asks, amusement in his voice as he peeks over the lip of the dumpster to look down at Clint.
‘Laugh all you want, I’m where I meant to be.’ Struggling to sit up, Clint takes the hand offered to him. ‘Better in the garbage than a pancake on the ground.’ With a groan, Mike hauls him out of the dumpster and they stumble to the ground.
‘Man, I’m glad we’re alone right now.’ Looking around, Clint realises he’s not actually sure that’s right. ‘We are alone right now, right?’
Mike lowers his head for a second, a moment Clint’s seen a thousand times before then nods. ‘We’re alone.’ He tilts his head then adds, ‘Well except for the assholes you let sneak up on yo-’
‘I did not let them sneak up on me!’
‘Then why’d they push you off the roof?’
Clint sniffs, outraged. ‘I wasn’t pushed, I jumped. Be-’
‘Yeah, I know. A piece of garbage than alleyway pancake.’
Smirking, Clint goes to throw an arm over Mike’s shoulder but the man dodges away in a smooth and rapid motion. ‘Oh no. Your garbage self stays over there.’ Smirking even more, Clint takes another step towards him.
Mike’s halfway up the fire escape in the next breath, Clint right on his heels. It turns into a game of chase that Mike easily wins, vanishing into the darkness of Hell’s Kitchen.
Defeated, Clint takes a seat on the edge of a roof and starts talking. He knows Mike’s not far off but he’s beginning to think Mike’s hearing is such that he’d hear him even if he wasn’t close.
Clint’s vaguely envious. ‘So I’ve been thinking a bit recently - don’t laugh, I know you’re laughing. Don’t need to see you to know you’re laughing. Anyway, I’ve been thinking that, if you want and I understand if you don’t, but maybe you should meet Thor. I know you’re still mad at them and they deserve it - I do too - but Thor’s a golden retriever in human form and he… he doesn’t judge.
‘Mostly because I don’t think Asgard has some of our world’s hangups about abilities and disabilities for warriors - what he calls us, not my word - but it’s kinda refreshing anyway.’
‘Bring him,’ Mike says, and Clint jumps. Mike’s there though, grabbing his shoulders and stopping him making a second roof jump tonight.
Heart pounding with his near escape, Clint smiles up at him. ‘Thanks.’
‘Welcome. Bring him,’ Mike repeats. ‘I’ll meet him.’
He’s gone in the next second, sprinting across the next roof. Clint doesn’t chase him this time.
********
Thor takes one look at Mike and beams. ‘Ah, you are the warrior Daredevil! I have heard your skill in battle is matched only by your skill with words!’
Though the mask hides his eyes from view, Clint gets the impression Mike is blinking in confusion. ‘Ah. Thanks?’
‘You have no need to thank me, I speak only what has been spoken to me. Now, are we to find a glorious battle in this Kitchen of Hel’s or pass our night in the glorious exploit of ‘Parkour’.’
Clint bites his lip to try and help swallow the laugh bubbling up his throat. Sometimes he could swear Thor plays up the ‘alien from a warrior culture’ just for the reaction he gets. But then sometimes he seems genuine and Clint starts to doubt himself.
Mike seems thrown. ‘Ah, battle? Though you’re not exactly subtle-’
‘Says the man wearing horns .’
‘It’s a symbol,’ Mike snaps, a smile on his face at the familiar argument. ‘And Thor, call me Mike?’ He starts to run for the next roof. Without prompting, Clint follows.
‘Michael. You honour me with your name.’ Thor’s thunderous steps follow them and Clint steps aside so he can pass and Clint can see what happens next.
It’s not what he expects.
Mike stumbles , his usual grace disappearing at the sound of his full name in Thor’s booming voice. He’s fortunate that he’s still a few feet from the edge of the roof, but it’s still the most thrown Clint’s ever seen him - well, since that night.
‘Mike,’ he corrects, turning to face the confused Thor.
‘Michael, yes.’
Frustration appears in Mike’s voice. ‘No, Mike. Please listen to me.’
‘...I have dishonoured your wishes. My most sincere and deepest of apologies… Mike.’
Mike’s shoulders drop and his chest heaves; he seems relieved. ‘Okay.’
‘Why not Michael? If I can ask?’ Clint asks, drawing Mike’s attention.
He shrugs. ‘It’s… it’s a loaded name for me. I’d prefer not to answer to it.’
‘But it’s not your actual name.’
Mike smirks. ‘Not even close,’ and Clint… Clint somehow gets the feeling he’s lying.
‘Come on then,’ Mike says, ‘if I’m to find you a glorious battle.’
The sight of the three of them ends up scaring off every criminal they come across, often before they’re even in speaking distance. Finally a laughing Mike sends Clint for what he calls ‘decent pizza’ which they eat on the edge of a building that Mike says no one’ll care they’re on.
It’s a good night.
********
Pizza nights with Thor become a weekly ritual when possible - Thor won’t let it be anything less. Mike jokes that he appreciates the break as every criminal in the city seems to disappear into their bolt holes the moment Thor enters Hell’s Kitchen. No one wants to face an annoyed thunder God - even if Mike and Thor sometimes end up arguing talking religion.
It turns out that Mike is a devout Catholic. How the fuck that works, Clint’ll never know but it leads to some interesting conversations. Whatever issues Mike has with written words, it’s clearly not stopping him reading a variety of things - he has a fondness for twentieth century political figures, especially this one judge - that he loves to quote when arguing. Completely lost on Thor, who’s still working his way through Disney movies, but making Clint more and more sure the Avengers did Mike a huge disservice when they made the ridiculous leap from ‘has issues reading screens and words’ to ‘illiterate’.
More than a disservice, they were ableist assholes.
It’s heavy thinking and Clint’s starting to make his peace with the fact that Mike’s probably never going to trust them ever again.
And that’s fine.
********
‘Mike! Thought we agreed pizza night tomorrow?’
There’s a dazed silence on the other end of the line, one so similar to the first call that Clint’s already reaching to check his aids are in. ‘ Clint?’
‘Mike. What’s wrong?’
‘I...I think I need a doctor.’ Clint can barely hear him and he’s not sure if that’s his hearing or because Mike’s actually that silent. ‘ I’m… I need a doctor. ’
Clint’s already moving through the Tower, headed for the labs. ‘Thought you said you had someone to patch you up.’
‘ Did. Gone.’
‘Gone?’ Clint’s veins must be full of ice, judging by the cold racing through him.
‘Family. Out of town.’
Relief floods Clint, so strong it makes his legs wobble for a moment. ‘Okay Mike. Would you like Bruce to come?’
A considering silence fills the line. If he says no, Clint’s going to go himself because Mike sounds awful and he’s asking for help . That never happens. ‘ Okay. ’
Clint’s knees couldn’t hold a feather right now, let alone him. At least not by the way they’re wobbling, almost making him too weak to stand. He staggers into the lab, where Bruce looks up from an experiment.
‘Clint? What’s-’
He holds out the phone. ‘Daredevil. He needs a doctor, wants you.’
Bruce takes the phone without pausing. ‘You know I’m not a licenced practitioner, right?’ His face spasms as Mike speaks. ‘Okay, I can be there in fifteen minutes. Your friend’s conscious? Okay, keep doing that and make sure you don’t neglect your own injuries - yes, I can tell you’re injured too. I know your type.’ He hangs up and passes the phone to Clint.
‘You’re going?’
‘Alone,’ Bruce says, a hint of the Hulk’s growl in his voice.
Clint holds his hands up. ‘Hey, not arguing that. I’ll be distraction, you go save our Devil.’
********
It turns out Bruce didn’t really need Clint to play distraction as later, after hearing about the call, Tony tries and fails to track Bruce on various hacked cameras. He’s a ghost though, disappearing almost as quickly as Mike can and his stubborn refusal to even reveal the address he went to, let alone the injuries Mike had means Tony gets absolutely no new information for his search.
Neither does Clint, but he can’t be assed to care. If Mike wants to tell him, he will. Something he tells Mike, three pizza nights later, when asked if he’ll be dropping in unannounced at Mike’s place of work.
‘That would mean I knew where you worked,’ Clint says through a mouth full of the best pizza he’s ever had.
‘But if you know where I live, surely you can figure out where I work?’
‘Don’t,’ Clint grunts, annoyed at having to give attention to this talking thing when pizza. Beside him, Thor is happily hacking his way through his third pizza, charged straight to Tony Stark’s credit card. Clint wonders if he even notices the weekly charges.
Mike stops. ‘You don’t?’
Clint swallows his pizza and resists the urge to eat more before he’s said his bit. ‘Nope. Bruce won’t tell anyone anything. We’ve not even got confirmation you live in Hell’s Kitchen as Bruce lost any camera trails Tony threw at him within a block of the Tower. He’s good .’
‘Did you want to know?’
With a shrug, Clint steals the last slice of pepperoni from Mike’s box. ‘Don’t care. If you wanna tell me, you will but until then, I’m happy so long as you keep finding pizza like this, sweet baby Jesus.’
‘Blasphemy,’ Mike mocks but there’s more delight in his voice than their usual joke could ever generate.
‘I’m a heathen,’ Clint agrees through another mouth full of pizza.
‘Your manners certainly are.’ He pauses then adds, ‘If Dr Banner wants to come into the city, I’m not going to chase him out.’
Clint pauses. ‘Want me to pass on the message?’
‘If you could.’
A part of Clint really wants to know what happened that night, to make Mike so accepting but he’s also certain asking will get him nowhere. ‘I’ll invite him to pizza night.’
‘Only if your manners improve; you’re not fit for civilised company.’
‘And what’s Thor then?’ Clint roars, slapping the Norse God on the shoulder.
Thor looks at Mike over Clint’s head. Then they both look at Clint and say, ‘Uncivilised company.’
Clint’s laughter startles a flock of sleeping pigeons into a nighttime flight.
********
The only downside to Mike removing his restriction on Bruce, is the effect it has on Steve. Of all of them, he’s the one person who seems to be taking what happened as more than the personal failure it was. To him, it’s not just a personal failure but a sign that perhaps he’s allowed the power of his transformation to go to his head.
He’s been moping around the Tower. It’s kinda awful.
‘Seriously awful.’
Mike ducks under the punch of the mugger he’s fighting and kicks his legs out from under him. Another punch delivered to the face, and the mugger is out for the count. ‘And [I? bye?] care?’ he calls up to Clint, tilting his head to make his lips visible. Clint, perched on the side of the building above Mike so he can watch for cops, is grateful. Tony’s repairing upgrading his aids tonight which is good for tomorrow but bad for right now. At least his skills in lipreading are still (mostly) intact.
‘Oh you shouldn’t,’ Clint calls back, sure his voice is near silent. It doesn’t seem to matter to Mike, who’s responding no matter how loud Clint tries to pitch his voice, so he’s been speaking faintly to avoid accidental yelling. ‘Just saying. I never realised a grown man could be so guilty . You’d think he was Tony not Steve, in terms of what he thinks he did.’
That gets a heaving chest that’s probably Mike laughing as he climbs up to Clint’s level. ‘Police[’ll???] [be bee?] here [in] a minute. Sirens,’ he adds, after Clint’s bemused look. ‘Okay [maybe?] five minutes. [They’re? There? Their?] not hurrying so [we?? we’ll?] have time [to?] escape.’
‘Nice of ‘em,’ Clint mutters as he follows Mike over the roofs.
Mike doesn’t reply until they’re seated on a different roof - the same one they had their first and honestly the majority of their pizza parties on. Clint’s sure it’s near Mike’s home but hasn’t bothered to ask. ‘Some of [them?] like [me? be?],’ he says from his seat on the edge of the roof, sitting sidewards so he’s facing Clint. ‘A [few? ewe? you?] less since your rumours, but some.’
Clint doesn’t manage to hide his flinch at the reminder of what they did. ‘If I said sorry again would it be annoying or what you want to hear?’
‘Bit of both,’ Mike admits, his lips quirking upwards. ‘But [by? bye?] all means, feel [free? tree?] to apologise endlessly.’
‘If I wanted to do that, I’d get Steve in here. He’s the one feeling a world of guilt right now.’
‘Are [you? ewe?] trying to [guilt maybe?] trip me?’ Mike asks, his shoulders hunching forward and his nostrils flaring.
‘Shit. No. No, no, no. I’m going to shut up now.’ Clint waves his arms round and isn’t surprised when he starts to signs what he’s saying. Mike’s already mentioned he can’t seem to get the hang of sign, apologies in every part of his body, so Clint barely cares that Mike doesn’t even look at the gestures.
‘Good.’ There’s a long pause that leaves Clint fidgeting on his ledge while Mike taps his fingers on the knee of the leg dangling over the edge. ‘[How’s?] Steve’s Parkour?’
A smile starts to creep across Clint’s face. ‘Pretty good for a ninety year old.’
‘We’re better [though? bow?] [?]’
‘Loads.’
‘Better bring him to check then.’
********
The first thing Steve does when they’re on the same roof, two days later, is march up to Mike and say, ‘I’m sorry. We-’
‘Don’t apologise for your teammates Captain,’ Mike snaps, cutting Steve off. ‘If they’re not willing to say it, they don’t get you to say it for them.’
Steve looks down, nodding. ‘I am still deeply regretful of my actions.’
‘Good.’ Mike walks towards the edge of the roof, keeping his back to Steve. ‘One day I might trust you mean that.’
With that, he takes a few steps back then charges at the edge of the roof, jumping moments before he runs out of space. Landing on the next building with a neat somersault, he’s on his feet in a graceful move that always makes Clint envious.
‘Come on then Steve,’ Mike calls and Steve stands taller, his eyes brightening, ‘show us what you’re made of!’
*********
Parkour with Steve only happens once in a blue moon, when Mike’s feeling a bit playful and Steve’s available to do it. Steve loves every moment of it, often saying various versions of: ‘This is like the assault courses we had to do in training! With less mud.’ and somehow not sounding like a grumpy old man when he says it.
Sam comes along once, at Mike’s request. He goes to copy Steve’s apology but Mike cuts him off before he starts.
‘I told Steve, and I’ll tell you. Your words are meaningless and you have to stop taking the blame for your teammates.’
Holding up his hands, Sam says, ‘Hey, I’ve said before, I do what he does just slower, apologies included.’ He lowers his hands slowly with a sigh, ‘And I do need to majorly apologise. I’ve been trained to deal with this stuff, to realise when I’m being ableist. Shouldn’t have left my training at the door when I got involved with this mob.’
Mike eyes him, as if examining his insides. Clint’s not a hundred percent sure, but he thinks whatever disability Mike has, it’s something to do with his vision. Little things, like his occasional failure to track movement with his eyes, and the way he rarely seems to react to facial expressions, combine with the almost opaque eye coverings, to form this conclusion. He’s not going to voice it aloud; he’s already made that mistake and isn’t going to repeat it. Clint tries to avoid repeating mistakes.
Course, Clint could be wrong and it’s something completely different. Doesn’t matter, he’s not going to change his behaviour either way. Been there, fucked that up spectacularly.
Anyway, Mike finally stops eyeing off Sam, for whatever amount of eyeing he’s capable of. ‘Feel free to come into the Kitchen then,’ he says. ‘There’s a bunch of homeless Vets that hang out round 53rd and 10th, since no one wants to own the Fisk building that brought him down. Our local VA counselor doesn't give a shit; maybe you’ll do better.’
‘I’ll certainly try.’
That’s how Sam finds himself in Hell’s Kitchen weekly, trying to fix another man’s mistakes. Clint’s certain he’s having a ball doing it and one of the local law firms, a Nelson and Murdock, offers free legal advice.
It’s kinda awesome, honestly.
********
Of the entire team, Clint’s sure that Nat would have been the one to push a loophole in Mike’s instructions and enter Hell’s Kitchen. Tony might’ve just bulldozed his way in but everyone’s made it clear if he does so, he faces the consequences alone and Daredevil has enough of a reputation as a brutal and unforgiving vigilante to make even Tony Stark think twice.
That and Pepper’s on his case, keeping him out of the Kitchen even if she has to make him take a longer route home. Between that, and Mike’s reputation, Clint’s not been worried Tony might ignore Mike’s wishes.
But Nat. Nat. Nat’s entire life is living in loopholes and manipulations. If she’d decided to enter Hell’s Kitchen, Clint has no doubt she would have found the justification for her actions.
Thankfully she’s seemingly decided on a different path.
‘Have you noticed our little spider problem?’ Mike asks, breaking a long silence. Well, speaking silence as beside Clint, Thor’s thunderous snores are their own rock concert. Clint’s not sure how he’s going to get Thor home; the God ate an unholy amount of pizza just to prove he could - much to Mike’s amusement - and drifted off to sleep minutes later, using Clint’s jacket as a pillow.
But that’s not what Mike’s commenting on. ‘I might have, yes. Bit of a deadly one.’
Mike’s lips quirk in his usual half smile. ‘At least it seems Hell’s Kitchen is spider free. The problem hasn’t crossed the border.’ He tilts his head south, to where Clint can’t see Nat but is one hundred percent convinced she is. ‘The borders might be having some issues but technically not the city.’
‘A technically good enough for you?’
‘I get the feeling that’s more than anyone else would get.’
Clint smirks at Mike’s astute observation and nods. ‘She’s not normally one to be told not to do something, if she wants to do it.’
Mike just hums in agreement before leaning over Clint to poke at Thor. ‘He’s definitely out,’ he says with a smile.
‘Oh yeah. I’m going to have to carry him home, just watch.’
The smile on Mike’s face is now a grin, but not the dangerous one Clint often sees. This one makes him look young and dorky, despite the intimidating horns. ‘That’ll be a sight to see.’
‘What, me being crushed? Great sight I’m sure.’
Laughing outright now, Mike nods towards Nat. ’Why not ask for help?’
‘You’d allow that?’
‘Might as well.’
Nat’s at their side minutes after Clint calls, her steps across the roof clipped and slow. She’s nervous , Clint realises, though he doubts Mike has the skill to tell - even Clint’s struggling to notice it and he knows Nat as no one else alive does.
‘Hey boys,’ she says in a light voice. ‘Heard you needed someone big and strong to move something around.’
‘Do you understand why I’m angry with you?’ Mike asks, his voice dropping into the deep register he uses while fighting. Clint’s not heard it directed at him in months.
‘Yes,’ Nat says, her voice losing every drop of its lightness. ‘I treated you like the woman I manipulate men into thinking me to be. I underestimated you, and that’s my mistake. I shouldn’t have assumed I knew… that I was best.’
Mike just stares at her, until she shifts minutely. It’s a movement so small Clint only just catches it but Mike’s shoulders relax. ‘That was nearly a genuine, one hundred percent apology. How much do you usually give and mean?’ There’s a hint of amusement in Mike’s voice that has Clint relaxing.
‘Nothing.’
With a hum, Mike turns his back and walks away. ‘Get Thor home,’ he calls over his shoulder. ‘I don’t trust you Miss Widow, but I’m not going to stop you entering my city.’ He lands his jump, perfect as always, then calls over his shoulder, ‘You’re not completely awful.’
Nat turns to him, a single raised eyebrow conveying her surprise. ‘That’s quite a compliment,’ Clint says. ‘He’s not normally so forward.’
Laughing, Nat hauls Thor to his feet and gets one of his arms over her shoulders. Clint takes the other side and together they start to drag the still snoring man to the fire escape.
‘I hope you brought a car.’
‘If we don’t somehow wake him getting down from here, I’ll pay for the taxi.’
********
Nat pays for the taxi.
********
‘I don’t get you,’ Clint says, wrapping the last bandage around the wound on Mike’s arm; a lucky strike from a mugger. Clint had matched the injury on the attacker, before putting a second arrow in his side.
He’ll live but it’ll hurt.
They’re on their usual roof now, with a box of first aid supplies Mike ducked into the building to ‘borrow’. Clint’s fairly sure this is Mike’s building but he’s not going to press.
‘What do you mean?’ Mike hisses, biting his lips against the pain.
Clint finishes his work, grateful it wasn’t bad enough to need stitches. ‘You’re a Catholic-’
‘I’ve said before-’
‘No,’ Clint cuts in, ‘not the vigilante stuff. That’s a contradiction I’ve figured is just you.’
Mike smiles, shifting his arm and pulling on the hoodie he’d also ‘borrowed’ from inside. The top part of his suit rests beside him and Clint grabs a wet wipe to try and get some of the blood off it before it stains. ‘You don’t know the half of it,’ he says with a smirk. ‘Oh, don’t bother. You’re missing half of it.’
‘The fact you can tell that while not looking should be more disturbing than it is.’
‘I know you.’ Mike shifts the suit, so it’s on the ground before swinging his legs around to dangle over the edge of the roof. ‘What did you mean then?’
Oh yeah. Clint closes up the first aid box and takes a seat beside Mike. It’s not early enough for the sun to be rising but it’s late enough for the night’s darkness to be fading. ‘You’ve never said you forgive us.’ Mike tenses, a motion he feels more than sees and Clint adds, ‘We don’t deserve your forgiveness and you have no obligation to do so. It’s just, I thought Catholics had to or something.’ He shifts and sighs. ‘My grip on religion is shaky at best.’
‘I did get that. Heathen,’ Mike jokes and Clint huffs a soft laugh. Then it’s Mike’s turn to sigh. ‘I should have. Forgiven you all. If I was a good Catholic but then… I’m not really.’ Clint goes to protest and Mike holds up a hand. ‘No, please don’t. I’m not… but that’s the point almost? No one deserves forgiveness, not on this Earth. But God gives it to us anyway, because he loves us and we’re supposed to follow his example.’
‘But we fucked up so bad-’
‘“And forgive us our trepasses as we forgive those who trespass against us,”’ Mike quotes and Clint frowns as he tries to place it. ‘Lord’s prayer,’ Mike adds, reading Clint’s confusion… somehow.
‘Yeah, that.’
Mike laughs, a soft sound that Clint’s not sure he actually hears. ‘I think I’ve mostly forgiven you, well ‘you’ as the collective Avengers,’ he says. ‘I just don’t trust most of you.’
‘That’s fair. I wouldn’t trust us either.’ Clint takes a deep breath then adds, ‘If you’re ever free Thursdays-’
‘Movie nights?’
Surprise floods Clint at the words. They keep their movie nights a secret, so no one can take advantage of the information that they’ll all be in one spot on a schedule. ‘Yeah. How’d you know?’
‘Stark mentioned it. Before… before giving me a tablet I can’t use to fix a problem I don’t have.’
Making a face at Mike’s tone Clint says, ‘Right. Well, if you ever want to come, you’re welcome.’
‘Stark’ll be there.’
‘I know,’ Clint says with a sigh. ‘And I get that you don’t like him. You have every right to, he’s been awful and ableist and a jerk - which honestly sums up the worst of Tony - but… movie nights are for the team. And you’re one of us Mike, or near enough to it.’
‘...Matt.’
Clint blinks. ‘What?’
‘It’s Matt. Not Mike.’
The name ‘Matt’ sounds familiar in connection to Daredevil but that’s not what Clint’s focused on. ‘...Fuck I knew you were lying when you said it wasn't even close to Mike.'
That gets Mik- Matt to laugh, an open, delighted noise. ‘Michael's my confirmation name though,’ he adds through his laughter.
‘You fucking liar .’
Matt pitches forward a bit and Clint grabs him so he doesn’t fall off the roof. ‘Oh no, I didn’t lie. Bent the truth a bit maybe.’
‘If that’s what helps you sleep. You liar .’
********
Matt turns up to movie night three weeks later, dressed in his old black clothes but wearing the new mask.
‘Nice choice,’ Clint says as he leads Matt upstairs. ‘I’m still not sure how you saw out of the last mask.’ Mi… Matt turns his head slightly and Clint adds, ‘Which would make watching a movie hard.’ He eyes Matt’s get up. ‘We’re watching The Princess Bride by the way.’
‘Oh?’ Matt says, a laugh in his voice.
‘Oh yeah,’ Clint says, walking into the already full common room. There’s a pair of seats left right in front of the T.V. just for them. ‘Steve and Thor haven’t seen it and no way are we passing up the chance to watch it with a real Dread Pirate Roberts among us.’
That gets a full laugh from Matt and Tony, walking into the room startles. ‘Holy shit, he laughs.’
Matt cocks an ear in his direction. ‘Well, you’ve not given me much of a reason to laugh Mr Stark.’ He goes to walk past him but Tony steps in his way.
‘Look, I… I want to start again. Tony Stark, Iron Man and man who made an ass of you and me.’
‘Yes you did Mr Stark,’ Matt says, ignoring the hand Tony’s holding out. He steps around him, taking one of the spare seats.
Tony shrugs and perches on the arm of Pepper’s chair. ‘Okay Hornhead. I get it. Call me Tony.’
‘Of course Mr Stark,’ Matt says with a touch of his usual humour in his otherwise cold voice. ‘And I’m sorry miss, you are?’
Pepper raises an eyebrow at Matt’s failure to recognise her. ‘Pepper Potts.’
A genuine smile appears on Matt’s face as Clint sits down beside him. ‘Mike,’ he says and holds himself still as if… as if waiting to be corrected.
Well joke’s on him, Clint’s keeping his name to himself. ‘So Mike, you ever seen this?’
‘Used to watch it as a kid with my Dad,’ Mike says softly, turning his head so Clint alone can see his lips. ‘Haven’t seen it since then.’
‘Well you’re seeing it now,’ Sam says as he turns the T.V. on. ‘We can’t let Steve exist one more hour without seeing this.’
That makes Matt grin for some reason, like he’s laughing at a private joke. ‘Yeah, can’t have that.’
********
While he’s not there every movie night, Matt starts to make it to at least one a month. Tony takes care to not talk to him unless talked to - Steve’s many talks on what he did wrong seem to have sunk in - and they’ve almost fallen into something of a truce. A truce that might not be the friendliest - Matt taking a seeming pride in calling Tony ‘Mr Stark’ no matter how the man protests - but it is a truce.
It’s six movies in, when Matt drops the bombshell Clint’s sure he’s been hiding.
‘What are we watching this time?’ he asks as he walks into the room, the last to arrive as usual.
‘Some Pixar movie!’ Clint calls from the kitchen, throwing the last of the popcorn he’s cooked into a bowl. ‘What some?’ He offers as he passes Matt on the way to the couch.
Matt wrinkles his nose as he follows. ‘Not if you paid me. Which movie is it?’ he asks Steve, who’s certain to know or at least know who knows.
‘Good Dinosaur?’ Steve asks, turning to Sam. Sam nods and Steve turns back to Matt. ‘The Good Dinosaur,’ he says with more confidence.
Clint finishes pass the bowls of popcorn around and drops into the seat beside Matt. ‘If you’ve seen it no spoilers.’ So far Matt’s somehow seen all the movies they’ve watched, though to be fair as they’re trying to catch Steve and Thor up on pop culture the choices have always been commonly seen movies.
‘No, I’ve not seen it,’ Matt says, that note of amusement back in his voice.
‘That’s a first,’ Tony says as he takes the final seat. ‘Pixar not your thing?’
‘Just a new movie I’ve not had time to see.’ Sam picks up the remote to start the movie but Matt holds up a hand to stop him. ‘I’ve ah, not seen it yet.’
Everyone in the room is looking at him now and something is poking at Clint. Wait… ‘So?’ Nat asks in a soft voice.
‘Does this have audio description?’ The note of amusement in Matt’s voice is basically a laugh now.
‘Oh,’ someone says, or maybe everyone says, as what Matt’s asking for - what he needs - dawns on them. Though he can see the surprise in the faces of his teammates, Clint’s barely feeling any. Matt being blind makes everything Clint’s noticed make sense and he just feels relief to not have to reach a conclusion based on the evidence he has. He’d probably get it wrong. Again.
As the knowledge settles, Clint finds himself remembering the figure in red, falling to his knees as an arrow buried in his attacker’s shoulder.
No, the figure in red dropping to his knees before the arrow hit. How keen must Matt’s hearing be to compensate for his blindness and let him hear an arrow fire when he’s half dead.
‘Blind,’ Tony breathes and Matt tenses. ‘Blind. I can f- no.’ He cuts himself off before anyone can comment, looking at Matt’s tense body. ‘Okay. Blind. Cool. You need anything; tell me. Stark industries is at your disposal.'
Matt beams , there’s no other word for it. ‘I’ll keep it in mind Tony.’
A light enters Tony’s eyes and he opens his mouth a couple of times, clearly unable to speak.
‘Oh good work,’ Nat says. ‘You’ve got him gaping like a fish and completely silent.’
‘Didn’t think that was possible,’ Steve adds.
Tony finds his voice. ‘Oh screw you two. And you too. I can be silent.’
‘No you can’t,’ Bruce says mildly as Sam flicks through the audio options. ‘J.A.R.V.I.S., any audio description?’
‘There will be momentarily,’ J.A.R.V.I.S says, a note in his voice that Clint takes a moment to place. It’s the same note Tony gets when he says ‘There will be’ but actually means ‘There will be soon because I’m going to either make it myself or find it for you’. ‘My apologies Mr Mike, for not having it ready earlier.’
Matt lowers his head, hiding his smile from the room. ‘It’s fine Jarvis. Usually Fo- a friend of mine does the description.’
A mini fight breaks out as Steve, Thor and Tony all declare they can do the commentary. Watching the fight, Clint starts to wonder. Blind and named Matt rings a bell…
Daredevil’s take of Fisk had involved a law firm, Nelson and Murdock, and Clint remembers the endless articles and media reports on blind Matt Murdock, who’d become a lawyer despite all the odds against him. Become a lawyer good enough to help bring down a crime lord even; look at how awesome he is. Best kind of inspiration porn; the type the media ate up.
Smiling himself, aware he knows everything he needs to about Matt and isn’t going to say a word, he turns to look at his friend. ‘Think they’re getting the hang of this?’
‘Maybe,’ Matt says with a shrug. ‘Time will tell.’