Chapter Text
It was too close. Matt has to admit that.
This…this was not supposed to happen. Not like this. His life…Daredevil and Matt Murdock…they are supposed to be separate. Supposed to be a line between. One that cannot be, should not be, crossed, no matter what.
But that is not up to him, is it? Not really. Not how it works, in his life. Not when he tangles with the kind of people and things he does. There is always the chance of that line being blurred, being crossed. He should have known. Hell, he had received warnings enough, hadn’t he?
And this… If he had been even a moment too late… God, Foggy and Karen…
Calm down. Nothing happened. You were in time. They are fine. Poindexter is in intensive care, soon to be in jail. Everything is fine. For now.
Well. That is what he can’t really shake off, isn’t it? For now. There could be a day when…
“Stop it” Foggy interrupts, tossing him a beer from the pack.
“Stop what?”
“I’m rolling my eyes at you. Stop what? Matt, you got your signature broody Daredevil look on.”
“I don’t have a signature broody-“
“You definitely do.”
“Don’t”
“Do-“ Foggy catches himself, chuckling. “I swear, you somehow manage to bring the collective maturity level in the room by a decade just by being there”
“You mean I keep you young.”
“I can print your name on every grey hair I got” Foggy pauses “Matt. Really. You know that wasn’t your fault, right? Bullseye-“
“He wanted me. You guys were targeted because of-“
“What if we were? Has it even been a month since you got shot rescuing me from that wannabe hostage drama guy? That time you got hurt because of me-“
“That’s not-“
“How not? I wasn’t taken then because of Daredevil or Matt Murdock or anything Mask related. Just wrong place wrong time. And you got hurt because I was taken.”
“It’s different and you know it.”
“Why, ‘cause you’re Daredevil? Get with the plan, Matt. We talked it over, right? I knew what I was getting into. So did Karen.” ‘
Matt shakes his head. “Foggy. Don’t pretend you don’t hate this.”
“I don’t love it.” Foggy admits. “But the thing is… Matt. We both know you are not actually going to quit.”
“I…”
“Yeah, I know you are thinking about it now. You think about it every time there is a close call, and I guess that is…good? Better think it over. But you are not going to quit. Not for real. Not forever.”
Matt frowns. “Do you think I am…”
Foggy sighs “I kept trying to get you to quit, didn’t I.”
“Well…”
“The thing is, I do still want you to quit. But I know you won’t. can’t. Not the way things are, out there. And the thing is… I love you for that and hate you for that.”
“Foggy…”
“C’mon man, lemme just get this all out, okay? I’ve just got in the sweet spot of beers, no way I’ll manage to say this piece over again.”
Matt laughs, but waves his hand in a go ahead gesture. Foggy sits up straight
“You are Daredevil. I love it and I hate it, but I now know that is how it is going to be. I can’t have Matt Murdock without Daredevil. You may quit for a bit. You’re thinking of it now, you’ve tried it before. But even if you quit… something is going to come up. Something is going to go wrong – something always goes wrong – and… Someone will have to set it right. And you will be in the suit again. Only, you’ll be out of practice because you had quit for a while.”
“I don’t have that much of a hero complex, do I?”
Foggy shrugs “The thing is… I don’t know if I wouldn’t do the same, you know? If… If I could hear it all. Hear everything that is happening and knew I could do something about it. Even if I knew it was idiotic.”
He has to admit that, remembering Foggy rushing out with a baseball bat to confront apparent mob shooters. “You are saying you are okay with…this?”
“I’m scared. But I was scared before, too. When we turned down the job offer. When we started out on our own in Hell’s Kitchen of all places. When we – not Daredevil, just Nelson and Murdock – got started on cases that got mob bosses and the Kingpin gunning for us literally and figuratively. The thing is, I’m scared as hell. But…it’s still worth it.”
Matt hesitates “Foggy, you don’t have to…”
“I didn’t have to get into criminal defence. I didn’t have to start my own firm. I didn’t have to do a lot of things I chose that puts me in the line of fire completely separate from anything Daredevil does or doesn’t do. But I chose that, okay? I am no man without fear, I’m scared shitless half the time, but I chose it. ‘Cause it is still worth it. ‘Cause someone has to do it and there aren’t enough people who can and will.”
“And Daredevil is…more of the same?”
“Well, more colourful anyway. And leads to more interesting dates.”
That’s not all that funny, but it gets both of them cracking up like schoolkids. Probably reaction after that mess with Bullseye.
And maybe something else, a voice whispers in Matt’s mind. There is something else, something is wrong and you don’t even know what that is.
He shakes his head, trying to shake the whisper off. It has been there, in the back of his mind, all day. That he has forgotten something. Something vital. Something…something he should remember. He can’t figure out what.
“We are okay” Foggy says at last, catching his breath. “Get that, Matt? We are okay. You are okay. We will be. Nelson luck, remember? It runs in the family.”
…………………………………….
“Something is wrong” Danny comments, without even looking up from his sundae (how the hell does the guy eat like that and still look like hundred pounds soaking wet?)
Matt rolls his eyes (yeah, glasses, Danny can’t see it, but it is the principle of the thing) “You picked the restaurant.”
“Not that” Danny does look up now. “What’s up? Is it about Bullseye?”
“Why do everyone keep asking me that?” Matt groans. “I mean, okay, maybe I was a bit too rough, but…”
“You know that’s not it.”
Matt sighs and turns his attention back to his breakfast. There’s no way to head Danny off a subject once he got started on it. Just answer in monosyllables and let him get it all out.
“Matt. I can see you all…”
“Brooding? That’s what Foggy said”
So much for monosyllable answers. But this is kind of getting to him. It’s one thing for Foggy to overreact and play mother hen, but when freaking Danny Rand is trying to play therapist…
“Not brooding” Danny shakes his head, frowning slightly “It’s just… something’s got you worked up. And it’s not just that mess with Bullseye. I mean, I’ve seen you after bad fights, ones that went even worse than this did. This time no one got hurt – other than Poindexter, I mean – even you got out without taking any major hits. So that’s not it.”
“I told Foggy and I am telling you. I am fine.”
“Okay, I don’t exactly have heartbeat-lie-detection powers, but I do have empath powers” Danny points out “And you’re like…on the verge of boiling over, Matt. I haven’t seen you like this for ages now. Not since the team really got into gear, you know?”
For someone with supposed empath skills, the Iron Fist clearly lacks the ability to know when to keep quiet. Matt shovels more toast into his own mouth to prevent any wrong words from coming out.
“Matt.” Danny’s tone is uncharacteristically serious “You… You know you can tell me, right?”
The thing is. There is nothing to tell. Really. That is what gets to him the most, especially with everyone hovering. There is nothing to tell, nothing to explain why he can’t shake off the feeling of impending doom.
He briefly considers whether it is another episode, but he knows how those feel like. He knows those warning signs, and this is not it.
This is like those early days, when his senses were acute enough to warn him when something was wrong, but not precise enough to pick up what exactly was wrong.
There is something lurking just out of range, he can feel it. Something hanging over him, maybe hanging over them all. But he. Just. Can’t. Remember.
He can feel Danny’s eyes on him, feel the concern radiating off the younger hero. Dammit. This is going to go over the grapevine. He knows it. It isn’t that Danny doesn’t exactly have a respect for privacy, it is that he is… Well. Danny.
Luke will know by evening. So will Jessica. From there to Claire. Peter will manage to overhear, the way that kid always does. Strange isn’t exactly one for gossip, but he always manages to know whatever is on the grapevine, one way or the other.
“I am keeping my appointments with Drumm” he points out, maybe a bit more curtly than intended. “And yes, I am still taking my meds properly.”
Danny, to his credit, looks apologetic “Matt, that’s, that’s not what I meant. I swear. Just… I thought you looked worried, that’s all.”
Sincere. Dammit, he is too much on edge lately. Should have known Danny is not the type to go there.
“Sorry” Matt sighs “It’s just… There’s been a lot going on, you know?”
There isn’t, not really. Not right now. Things are actually going pretty well, by their standards. Maybe that is why he is on edge? Everything is too quiet? That sometimes happens.
“You still on for the training session?”
Matt shrugs “Sure. You think the others will all show up?”
“Well, probably. I mean, Doc isn’t on a predictable schedule, but the others are on.”
The group training sessions are a recent development. The Defenders aren’t exactly a team in the normal sense of the word. Not like the Avengers.
They’re just…a bunch of people who got caught in the same mess and…well. Kind of realised they like to hang out together now. He’s still not sure just how that turned into being a more or less steady team.
Probably has to do with Strange. He likes the Doctor, but there’s no denying that the man is given to playing chess with living pieces. He can’t help but be a bit on the edge around him. Especially given how the Sanctum invariably messes with his radar.
But given the number of supernatural threats that have been popping up recently, they can’t exactly turn down the aid of the Sorcerer Supreme.
Somehow, the Defenders, the non-team that was supposed to last only as long as it took to take down the Hand, has ended up as the go-to one for things that go bump in the night.
…………………………………………..
He whistles a tune as he shaves, trying to keep his mind from…from what? That is the question, isn’t it? It is always something sensed ‘out of the corner of one’s eye’, so to speak.
He can’t shake the feeling that whatever it is has to do with Bullseye. No, not exactly him, but that attack. That night.
A night that went surprisingly lucky, given the circumstances. Getting out of a close quarters combat with Poindexter with no casualties and no major injury? Luck, God finally deciding he was owed a little break, whatever…
But he can’t shake the conviction that something did go wrong. That there is something he is missing, something vital.
He goes over the fight again, as he has done too many times already. Analyses each move, each word. Nothing. Nothing to explain the cold dread that hangs over him. Nothing to explain the phantom smell of blood that seems to linger, even now.
He tries to dismiss it from his mind, tries to redirect his thoughts to the most recent case.
The razor slips in his hand. A stinging line of pain opens down his face, blood spurting.
The next few minutes will find themselves filled with muttered curses, hurried fumbling at the first aid kit, and attempts to salvage the now blood soaked shirt. It will take a few minutes before Matt gets to think back to the accident, to what caused it.
He will try to tell himself that the razor slipped. That makes sense. That is embarrassing, such clumsiness from Daredevil, of all people. But that is normal. People cut themselves shaving. That happens. Normal human experience. It slipped. That’s all.
If he remembers – or seems to remember – his own hand doing it, twisting the razor into the wrong angle, he will tell himself that is a mistaken memory. That simply makes no sense.
It simply makes no sense that for a couple of seconds there, his hand did not seem to be his own, did not seem under his control. That is nonsense and he has enough of it in his life as Daredevil, without injecting more of it when out of the mask.
For seemingly no reason, he thinks about how many seconds there are in a day (86,400).