Notes: The world has expanded. Matt's world has expanded. Naturally, Nelson and Murdock were at the front of the legal response when the government announced its plan to register and license all costumed vigilantes. Naturally, Daredevil was involved in the fight on the street against the NSA, Hydra, and any number of quasi-government thugs. It was ugly, legally and in terms of property damage. Nobody came out unscathed.
The US Supreme Court's decision that the Superhero Registration Act was unconstitutional and in violation of civil rights was almost an anticlimax. The battle had been won on the streets and in popular opinion well before SCOTUS got around to weighing in.
~
A party seems inappropriate, given the circumstances, and their small gathering feels more like a funeral. Some of them have lost friends-- to death and to bitter feuds-- and nobody feels much like celebrating their Pyrrhic victory. Matt's not even sure how they all ended up here, at Steve's apartment in Brooklyn. They just seemed to all drift there together.
He sits on the balcony in the dusk and marks the time by the way the air temperature drops along with the sun. It's too crowded inside, too many heartbeats and breaths, and under it all the lingering stink of fear. Any one of them still relying on their identity being unknown could still be exposed. Some of them already have been.
Matt's one of the lucky ones. Although his identity is an open secret amongst the people in that room, he's lived in fear for the last few months that it would get out. He'd probably be disbarred. Possibly arrested. Definitely sued. Steve, Sam and the others are already facing civil suits. The nightmare isn't over yet, not by a long shot.
He lifts his head as footsteps approach the door and it slides open. Smell of soap, whisper of cotton broadcloth, and a deep, even breath. Steve.
"Cap," he says, lifting his beer.
"Matt."
Steve comes out, tiny shifts in air pressure, and Matt leaves his head cocked. A slight uptick in Steve's heartbeat. He holds a breath and then lets it out. Matt waits for him.
"I wanted to thank you, for everything," Steve says.
Matt shakes his head. "You don't need to thank me for doing the right thing."
"It's not that. You put yourself on the line for me-- for all of us. I spent a lot of sleepless nights wondering if I was going to wake up the next day and see your other name plastered all over the papers."
The railing rings ever so slightly as Steve rests his arms on it.
"You and me both," Matt says with a smile.
His attempt to inject some levity into the conversation falls flat. Steve is motionless, breathing through his nose the way he always does when he's tense.
"You keep clenching your jaw like that, you'll break your teeth," Matt says, trying again.
He takes a sip of his beer, and this time he knows Steve smiles. He can hear it when he speaks.
"You know, that's still a little weird," Steve says.
The scuff of his feet on the floor, a creak and the slightest change in air pressure as he sits down next to Matt.
FILL (MCU post Civil War, destined to be jossed)
The US Supreme Court's decision that the Superhero Registration Act was unconstitutional and in violation of civil rights was almost an anticlimax. The battle had been won on the streets and in popular opinion well before SCOTUS got around to weighing in.
~
A party seems inappropriate, given the circumstances, and their small gathering feels more like a funeral. Some of them have lost friends-- to death and to bitter feuds-- and nobody feels much like celebrating their Pyrrhic victory. Matt's not even sure how they all ended up here, at Steve's apartment in Brooklyn. They just seemed to all drift there together.
He sits on the balcony in the dusk and marks the time by the way the air temperature drops along with the sun. It's too crowded inside, too many heartbeats and breaths, and under it all the lingering stink of fear. Any one of them still relying on their identity being unknown could still be exposed. Some of them already have been.
Matt's one of the lucky ones. Although his identity is an open secret amongst the people in that room, he's lived in fear for the last few months that it would get out. He'd probably be disbarred. Possibly arrested. Definitely sued. Steve, Sam and the others are already facing civil suits. The nightmare isn't over yet, not by a long shot.
He lifts his head as footsteps approach the door and it slides open. Smell of soap, whisper of cotton broadcloth, and a deep, even breath. Steve.
"Cap," he says, lifting his beer.
"Matt."
Steve comes out, tiny shifts in air pressure, and Matt leaves his head cocked. A slight uptick in Steve's heartbeat. He holds a breath and then lets it out. Matt waits for him.
"I wanted to thank you, for everything," Steve says.
Matt shakes his head. "You don't need to thank me for doing the right thing."
"It's not that. You put yourself on the line for me-- for all of us. I spent a lot of sleepless nights wondering if I was going to wake up the next day and see your other name plastered all over the papers."
The railing rings ever so slightly as Steve rests his arms on it.
"You and me both," Matt says with a smile.
His attempt to inject some levity into the conversation falls flat. Steve is motionless, breathing through his nose the way he always does when he's tense.
"You keep clenching your jaw like that, you'll break your teeth," Matt says, trying again.
He takes a sip of his beer, and this time he knows Steve smiles. He can hear it when he speaks.
"You know, that's still a little weird," Steve says.
The scuff of his feet on the floor, a creak and the slightest change in air pressure as he sits down next to Matt.
(tbc)