daredevilkink | Daredevil Prompt Post #11

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Daredevil Prompt Post #11

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Making fun of him for being "big built and bristling with weapons" or a pickup line or something.
Just something about "Castle" being "built".
Make'em Punny.

OMG yesssss

I kind of hope it's Karen? Being silly but also sort of complimentary and he does NOT know what to do with that and gets kinda flustered :-D

Frank Castle is an NCIS agent with a tragic past and a tendency to shoot first and ask questions later.
Erik Lehnsherr is the Mossad liaison officer with a tragic past, a tendency to shoot first and ask questions later, and a taste for pink pullovers. Together, they fight crime.
(They also argue, shoot things, spar, drink, bond and argue some more.)

The next morning, Foggy was not excited to see Matt’s name on his caller ID. It was the first time in his life he hadn’t wanted to talk to Matt. Foggy was an adult, though, and he was happy that the idiot was alive.

“Hey Matt.”

“I’m really sorry, Foggy. I didn’t have my phone on me and got caught up.”

Foggy was glad that the man was alive, really, but that was just the kind of vague nonsense that Matt had been giving him for a little more than two weeks. Right. Two weeks of a new friend and no time for the previous time-filler. Matt didn’t want to go to their favorite Thai place or take a walk or stop at Josie’s because he had a girlfriend now.

“It’s fine,” Foggy said. It wasn’t a lie. Nobody thought ‘fine’ meant anything beyond ‘it’s terrible but I would rather not discuss why.’

Matt didn’t say anything. Foggy was too annoyed to let the silence hang.

“I met your girlfriend,” Foggy said flatly. “I know that we’re not… I didn’t understand boundaries, before, but I get it. You don’t have to tell me anything.”

“My… Foggy, Karen isn’t my girlfriend.”

If Matt was going to argue semantics, Foggy was hanging up. “She’s sleeping in your bed.”

“I’m sleeping on the couch,” Matt replied quietly. “I should have said something, I know it, but Karen was having some trust issues. She said that if you come over for lunch she’ll make lasagna, though. She said that she didn’t realize how it looked until she woke up in the morning and you were gone. I’m sorry, Foggy.”

He was such a sucker. “I haven’t heard of anyone making lasagna in years, Matt, I accept your bribe of pasta someone else cooked.”

Karen was immensely more likable when she wasn’t Matt’s stunning girlfriend. Foggy and Karen quickly found out that teasing Matt was fun enough alone. The two of them together actually left Matt blushing.

“I am keeping Karen,” Foggy declared. “Matt, however…”

Karen giggled. “It’s my fault,” Karen wheedled. “I- um. Well, I’d rather not go over the whole story,” she said, abruptly so pale-faced she looked like a ghost. “Someone tried to kill me. I was scared and didn’t know where to go. Matt- found me, and he’s been helping me straighten things out.”

“What kind of straightening out?” Foggy asked. “Do you need anything else?”

“A lawyer, I guess, but I don’t know who would want my case.”

“Doable,” Foggy said happily. “Rosalind is still thrilled with me for dropping out of undergrad—long story short, I accidentally ended up working for Alias Productions as an acting coach. Rosalind finds this fantastic and more importantly is the most terrifying lawyer that I know.”

“Doesn’t Alias do porn?” Karen asked hesitantly. “You don’t need to use a euphemism if you don’t want, Foggy.”

Matt looked embarrassed, but nothing too extreme. It was too late to stop the laughter bursting out of Foggy anyway, because this was the funniest thing he had ever heard. “Jesus Christ-sorry Matt, accident. But really? Rosalind would take the case just for that.” Foggy finally composed himself. “Ah, no. Not a euphemism, I work as the director’s right hand man and also do makeup.”

Karen looked from Foggy to Matt and then back. “You’re coworkers, aren’t you?” Suddenly it clicked and she stared at Matt, who was fiddling with his fork. “Wow. Um. Well, I’ve heard good things, but it’s not like I ever built up a DVD collection.”

“Sorry, Matt,” Foggy said repentantly.

“It’s alright.” Matt was smiling, a real smile that for once was lingering. He didn’t seem to mind that Karen was giggling again. “If anything, Jessica is going to track Karen down and try to figure out how she hasn’t cornered some section of the market. She likes to be thorough.

“It’d be better than hiding in Matt’s apartment,” Foggy said thoughtfully. “Really. It’s a good group, Karen, and Jessica has literally thrown someone through a window for threatening someone under her protection. Plus you can meet up with Rosalind there. If she doesn’t take the case herself, she’ll find someone she deems worthy.”

Rosalind and Karen and Matt took over the cramped conference room at the back of the Alias studio. Just as Foggy had imagined, the moment Rosalind heard the story of Foggy accidentally outing Matt as a porn star, she demanded that she wanted to meet this not-girlfriend of Matt’s.

Foggy wasn’t sure about Rosalind’s intensity when she looked Karen over, but it had worked out find. Karen had repeated that she wasn’t Matt’s girlfriend, she was just staying at his place until her apartment was safe. Rosalind believed Karen, apparently, and was immediately friendlier in a way that mystified Foggy.

Jessica and Trish demanded their own retelling. Foggy supposed it probably wasn’t that funny to accidentally out someone as a porn star, when he’d thought about it further, but Jessica was never shy about calling someone out on a misstep. She actually was more worried about Foggy which made no sense at all. Foggy wasn’t the one with a mysteriously unsafe apartment.

Trish distracted both of them with the script for yet another movie centered on Frank and Matt. Brett had turned down the lead role and insisted they rework it for Frank, keeping Brett only for cameo appearances. Foggy was continually surprised how gracious the rest of the stars were with talking through who would be best suited to particular movies and themes.

“Alright, so this first scene leads into the new sofa that Jessica dragged in here,” Trish said, looking dubiously at the mostly-flat expanse firm black leather. “I am not cleaning that monstrosity.”

“It’s fine, Trish, I got slip-covers,” Jessica said, pointing to the large stack of wrapped covers over in the break area. “Nice ones, too, so Matt doesn’t need to run back to his robe between every shoot.”

Trish’s smile was indulgent. “You just like it when Luke pretends that he’s jealous, but Matt will appreciate it.” She glanced over at Foggy. “Matt will never admit it, because he’s ridiculous and doesn’t think he deserves nice things, but he’s really texture-sensitive.”

That explained silk sheets a little bit more. Right, not thinking about Matt on said silk sheets, Foggy was at work. “So, what’s our first scene?”

“Haven’t found the inspiration just yet,” Jessica said with a broad shrug.

“Luke’s off visiting family,” Trish stage-whispered.

Jessica smirked. “As I said. So I figured we could try and get the Nelson touch all the way through the film. What do you think, Foggy? I’m the bendy one so I have dibs on sorting out Matt’s part of this. You tell me how to set this scene up.”

Trish had her concerned expression. She looked gentle and calm and ready for the person who left her concerned to tell her how to make things better. Her concerned look could shut down an entire scene within moments without a word being said.

Foggy had never been the subject of it before.

It wasn’t like he was a sex symbol, but he had been working with them for a while now. He had seen a lot of movies and he’d even had Jessica demand input on the blocking a few times. He’d started having very elaborate fantasies, now, and apparently all it took for him to say them out loud was Jessica Jones smirking while Trish tried to rescue him from telling Jones exactly how good Matt would look if they would try an obliquely overhead camera that was not only the tool of hacks, Jones, experiment a little.

“You know what? I think I will,” Foggy said. “Just pretend I look a lot more menacing and I’ve got Frank’s side of this.”

Trish’s concerned face could not hold up when her jaw dropped. Foggy didn’t take more time to notice her expression, though, because Jessica had tossed herself lazily back on the couch and was trying to mimic the usual Mike Murdock smirk.

By the time Foggy and Jessica had negotiated out a scene that would rely on very different camera angles and maybe some reinforcement to the back of the couch, Trish had started furiously taking notes complete with sketches of just how Foggy directed exactly how he would picture transitions within the scene itself. It felt extremely odd, picturing Matt while he and Jessica posed while they both were fully dressed and debating lighting prompts to hand on to Gwen, but the result would be worth it.

Jessica sprang up from their completed scene with a very wide smile and high-fived Trish on her way back to the conference room.

Abruptly back in the wide space of the studio instead of the hypothetical living room with Matt, Foggy blinked in confusion at Jessica’s retreating back.

“Foggy Nelson, you are a man of many talents,” Trish said finally. “You really have a handle on Matt’s favorites.”

Foggy was used to blushing on set. The full-body flush that provoked made him feel overheated and like he’d been tricked into exposing too much of himself. “I- um- just based it on the previous films. And the camera angles that Jessica and Peter usually avoid, because trying something new helps.”

“It’s really good.” Trish looked like she wanted to set her notebook down and hug him. “Really, Foggy, that was amazing.”

Foggy wasn’t sure he could stand for anyone to touch him just yet. He still had his shoes on, he hadn’t taken a single piece of clothing off, but he still felt like he was the one standing naked in the middle of the set. This wasn’t what he had signed up to do.

Jessica ordered takeout. Foggy couldn’t taste the gyro that she handed him. He made his excuses, after, and couldn’t bring himself to wait until Karen and Rosalind and Matt left their huddle in the conference room. He stammered out an excuse and ran.

When his phone rang for the third time from a number he didn’t recognize, Foggy reluctantly accepted the call. He’d been having a very important afternoon of huddling on his couch feeling like the world didn’t quite have a space for him anymore. He couldn’t fit into his own skin. Which was stupid, all he’d done was talk and it wasn’t like he’d had sex, and he definitely hadn’t been unfaithful to Matt because they weren’t even dating. And it wasn’t sex.

“Foggy, this is Karen.”

There was no trace of the shy woman who could barely form words about someone chasing him. She spoke very clearly and without a single shred of pity. That made it easier for Foggy to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “Hi Karen.”

“I don’t think you should be alone right now,” Karen continued. She still was talking to him like a friend holding a loving intervention that could not be ignored. Gentleness would have burned inside. “I already have a ride back to Matt’s place. Would it be okay if Matt visited you?”

“He doesn’t have to.” Foggy was dragging the words out from deep inside of his ribcage, down where the heart should be. “He can if he wants, though.”

“He wants to.” Karen sounded as if she was reminding him that the sky was blue. The clarity helped the world feel a little less grey. “He’ll be there in fifteen minutes or less. Can you unlock your door when he gets there?”

“Y-yeah,” he said. He could leave the couch for Matt. Even though most of the grey had come from a mess of confusing thoughts about Matt and couches and hard black leather blending into the soft brown couch in Foggy’s apartment. He missed what Karen said before she ended the call, but that was okay. He was still trying to work up the energy to leave the couch and the safety it promised when there was a fast, loud group of knocks at his door. Foggy could stand, then, and stumbled over to the door. He looked bad, probably, but Matt couldn’t see that. Matt couldn’t see the entire DVD collection, either, even if he ever did set foot in Foggy’s bedroom.

“Foggy,” Matt said, reaching out to hug him right in the doorway. It was nice, Foggy decided. Outside of times when they were drunk and touchy, or when Matt took his arm for longer walks, they didn’t usually get that close.

Matt’s cane was digging into Foggy’s hip, but that wasn’t a bad feeling. It was grounding. It helped even after Matt had nudged the two of them inside and fumbled through locking the door. “I don’t know your apartment, Foggy, but you need a glass of water. Juice. Something,” he said.

“I have orange juice,” Foggy said slowly. “It has pulp, though. I got the wrong kind.”

“You like pulp,” Matt replied. “You need to drink something, okay? For me.”

He tasted orange, orange like the fruit and color, and wondered how long it would take to forget colors. Matt took the empty glass away from him. It felt like sleepwalking when Foggy settled down on the couch, Matt sitting next to him.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t… you didn’t need to come.” Foggy shouldn’t feel like this about not even doing Matt’s job.

“Yes, I did,” Matt corrected softly. From Matt, soft was okay. “Jessica should not have surprised you with that. The first scene is always really intense, Foggy, even if you’re just imagining through it. You were so focused in that you couldn’t tell that it wasn’t your thing.”

“More the… after? Couldn’t get a grip.”

“I should have been paying attention.”

Foggy wasn’t sure if he had been meant to hear that. Probably not, because it actually made no sense. Matt couldn’t have looked through the little window in the conference room door and it hadn’t been all that loud. Just… quiet. At least before Foggy tried to figure out what Jessica was after, looking triumphant and wild with it, and felt like his crush wasn’t a treasured secret as much as a pathetically obvious torch. He very belatedly understood why Trish had been worried. Everybody knew Foggy was gone on Matt, probably even Matt, but everyone else had been kind enough to stay out of it. If it was open season on the entire group openly knowing about Foggy’s useless infatuation… yeah, maybe it was for the best he’d ran away and left them to sort out limits.

Matt looked a little worried, but not disgusted. Matt had still come over to Foggy’s apartment.

“I’ve been meaning to invite you over, but my natural state is slob so the floors are a bit of a disaster and it smells a bit musty even to me,” Foggy said, realizing that he’d hoped for a little better introduction than this. He had kept trying to keep the floors clean and puzzle out the best layout so that Matt would have room to move. He’d also maybe wanted a glass-fronted DVD cabinet, since it would make for a nice display piece, and maybe he could accidentally lock up his porn collection before Matt came over because it was really embarrassing when the real person was right there.

“Invite me over some other time when you’re ready for the tour. It’s mostly a lot of trying to form a more permanent map of where you keep things.”

Foggy nodded before remembering just how invitations for Matt had worked out lately. After the string of polite refusals for Josie’s or dinner, Foggy hadn’t dreamed of inviting Matt over to his apartment. “Karen’s okay, right? She said she didn’t want to be alone right now.”

“She’s fine. She… Karen said I should tell you.”

Foggy waited, not sure what else to do with an opening statement like that. It could mean anything from ‘Karen and I are dating now’ to… anything, really. “You can tell me anything, Matt.” Except that this is goodbye because clearly Foggy cannot be a professional and actually remember that off-duty fantasies clearly need to never cross boundaries again or Foggy will need to quit. The old idea about finishing his bachelor’s and applying to law school had turned into ‘being a lawyer with Matt,’ but his uncle would still take him as an apprentice at the family butcher shop.

“Foggy.”

Right. “I’m with you.”

Matt nodded and took him at his word. “Karen said that she was on the run. She didn’t tell you that it was from the police. They were hurting her in the interrogation room at the precinct. She couldn’t call a lawyer because they hadn’t charged her with a crime yet. That night, someone tried to kill her, but…”

Foggy waited. He didn’t know what to say, really, but Matt wasn’t done.

“The man in black got her out of the cell. She needed a place to stay, she ended up staying with me,” Matt finished.

“Wow. That’s… no wonder she was so nervous,” Foggy said. “It’s a bad day when the bomber is the good guy.”

Matt flinched. “I don’t think he set the bombs. Karen doesn’t, either.”

On a better day, Foggy might have a chance of working out just why this was so important to Matt, but maybe he didn’t need much subtext. The guy had saved Karen’s life. Foggy couldn’t argue with those results. “You and Karen think he’s okay, I’ll back you this time. The Man Without Fear, Scourge of Muggers really didn’t seem the type for a coordinated terrorism anyway. I’d expect a better outfit and a name at the least if he wanted to make it big-time.”

“I didn’t think there were that many pictures.”

“The internet loves pictures, Matt. There are a few blurry shots of a guy in black that have been photoshopped doing everything from fighting the Queen of England to crossing the Delaware with George Washington.”

Matt blinked. “Fighting the Queen of England?”

“Don’t be fooled, the woman may live forever. And speaking of the Queen, want to walk over to the new British pub? They have a patio so it shouldn’t be too loud and a very wide variety of snobby beers.” Foggy felt solid again, finally, and ready to see something past the walls of his apartment.

Just as Foggy thought, sitting on a patio with snobby beer was a winner. “Sure. Can you text Karen, though? Let her know you’re okay?”

Foggy tapped a quick message to Karen’s number, adding her as a contact afterward. Before Karen responded, a message came in from Jessica.

Jessica had not texted him once except to warn about starting delays or the time that the power had been out. True to form, her message was straight to the point.

I shouldn’t have surprised you with a scene like that and I’m sorry. Next time you need help, remember I owe you one.

Foggy was still processing that offer when Karen sent a smiling emoticon. Later, he decided. He grabbed his wallet, Matt grabbed his cane, and the two of them went off to hopefully never mention just why Foggy had his first panic attack in years.

yes Foggy, that was totally everything Matt was intending to tell you right that moment

This is so good!

Hehe, so Matt is still a vigilante. Now I'm wondering if Frank, Jessica, and the others are too. Oh man, now I can't stop imagining that other Marvel hero catching wind that there is a porn studio full of vigilantes. Tony Stark would be all over that if he knew.

Loved this. Frank Tower lol. And moar nekkid Frank pls. Moar nekkid everyone. I love'em. I wanna marry your fic and suck its cock every night before bed.

Haha I bet there's that ONE person who always comments on all of the online news articles that come out about Daredevil. "UGH WHO WROTE THIS???DON'T LISTEN TO THIS GARBAGE! THAT MAN SAVED MY LIFE!!"

Haha yes!!

Okay, there's really not enough Frank/Foggy fic out there. So. How about post-season-two Foggy minding his own business one night when he comes across a fight. (Maybe he thinks it's Daredevil so he peeks but it's Punisher.) Turns out Frank's stopped a kidnapping, but he has no idea why they took this tiny baby or from who. Plot twist - one of the kidnappers has a badge! So cops can't be called yet, not until Brett's back from his plot-device week vacation, since he's the only one Foggy trusts.

Frank absolutely refuses to take care of the kid in the meantime, so Foggy takes it on. Cue Foggy's well-meaning misadventures tending to a kid, and Frank's reluctant 'you frigging idiot, have you never changed a diaper?' fatherdom creeping back over him. And both of them seeing each other in a new light, and eventually hot congrats sex because they kept the baby alive.

Bonus points for Matt's complete lack of presence except like the occasional care package of baby products left on the fire escape. Because you know he's spying.

A+ for the ship
A++ for the prompt
ALL the extra credit for that bonus!!

OK I really appreciate that you include the detail of one of the kidnappers having a badge. I love sudden-baby!fics, but the lack of logic regarding why they didn't just do the legal thing and turn the child over to authorities is rarely discussed. Thank you so much.

The diner smelled faintly of burnt food and old coffee, the smell of fresh cooking food hit his nose, over taking the older smells. Frank scanned the room. There was a pair of older women in one corner and at the bar two middle-aged men, blue collar from the looks of it. He took a seat at a booth and ordered coffee.

A few minutes late Jack entered with Matt. The boy had a hand on Jack’s elbow and his cane lifted. Jack spotted him and walked over. Matt sniffed as they made their way over. Jack’s recollection of Matt’s evolving sensory issues comes to mind however instead of complaining or commenting on the food Matt focuses toward the booth.

“Frank!” Matt greeted. Jack looked surprised as Frank felt but greeted Frank as well.

“Matt, Jack.”

“Matt you listen to Frank, okay?” Matt made a face but sat across from Frank. “I know Dad.” he whined. Jack turned to Frank and pulled out his wallet. “Frank, can you make sure he gets dinner?” He handed Frank money, too much for dinner. So Frank was being paid. First legitimate paying job since he got back was babysitting.

He’d returned the money after Jack picked him up but took it to get the man to go to his job. It would defeat the purpose otherwise. Jack introduced Frank to the waitress, who Matt greeted cordially and with an air of familiarity.

The waitress, Meredith, her nametag had made him aware when he had come first, looked at him seriously. If Frank were a creep he wouldn’t have escaped even if he tried, he thought. Frank greeted her warmly. He wasn’t hiding anything (yet) and him being creepy and vague would be more memorable than “Jack’s New Friend Who Babysat Once”.

Jack left with several glances back. Matt was running his hands over a Braille menu Meredith had brought over. Matt seemed to be reading slowly and Frank wondered how well he could keep track of the text. After a moment he seemed to decide if his reskim was an indication.

He didn't say anything. Frank looked at his own menu and decided on a burger. It was the least likely thing to get him sick or to disagree with him. He grabbed the money that Jack had him.

“Here kid.” Matt frowned.

“What?” He pressed his hand onto the bill fold. “What is this?” He ran his hands over the bills. “Money?”

“Yeah, it’s what your dad gave me. Keep it. I don’t want to forget to return it.” Kid made a face.

“My hands are dirty now.” Right. Sensory issues, God knows what he felt. Although now Frank wanted to wash his hands too. Maybe it was just a hygiene thing.

“Okay. Let’s order and then wash our hands.” Matt’s hand vanished under the table and reemerged empty as he nodded. “You sure you ready?”

“Yes. I know what I want.”

“Good.” An awkward pause and Frank tried to catch Meredith’s attention. The woman came over with a bored look.

“What can I get you?” Frank ordered. Her tone turned more pleasant and her expression softened as she spoke to Matt. “And you, Matty? The usual?”

“No, thank you, Merry. May I please have the six with no mayo and extra mustard?”

“Course.” She glanced at Frank with flinty eyes. She was watching him. At least Jack had good friends he thought. They added drinks and Frank awkwardly guided Matt to the restroom. They washed their hands and returned.

“Hey, Frank?” Matt said as they returned to their booth. Matt sat and swung his legs across from him

“Yeah?”

“What do you do? You said you used to be in the Marines but what do you do now?”

“I’m retired.”

“Oh. You get bored? Is that why you’re boxing with my dad?”

“Partly. Just need to get some training. I need to build up my strength.”

“You do that all day?”

“No. I do a few things here and there but I'm not working or looking for work.” Definitely not admitting what he did most days.

“What do you?” Frank shrugged then realized it was a meaningless gesture to someone who couldn't see.

“Nothing really. Trust me kid. My day would bore you.”

“I wanted to a boxer like my dad.” Matt said and Frank was struck by Lisa saying something similar seemingly ago. Matt didn't seem to think it was odd to comment given his situation because he added almost without preamble. “He doesn't want me to do like manual labor so I have to study a lot.” He made the universal face of children who did not want to do homework. “I think I want to be a lawyer.” He looked earnest. “I can still be one even though I can't see.”

“Yeah? That’s good.” And Frank meant it. It would be unfortunate of the kid’s full future were just arrested because of the accident. “You know what kind of law you want to do?” He was probably too young to actually answer that but shit if Frank knew many lawyers. It was possible the kid had a role model and had a clear course of action in his head.

“No. I want to help people though.” Very noble but kid had proven he wasn't just spouting bullshit. He thought as he took a hard look at the glasses.

“I'm not too familiar with lawyering but I'm sure you'll do fine and help people.” Matt seemed to enjoy the encouragement. “You doing good in school? You need good grades to be a lawyer.”

“Yes.” A bit petulant now, normal kid reaction Frank thought and realized he was smiling. Frank shook his head. “I’m not a baby I know you need good grades and I have to go to college and law school.”

“Not saying you’re dumb.” He said with a firm voice. “There was a reason I went into the Marines, kid. I had decent grades, but nothing special.” Matt seemed to think about it.

“Can I ask-”

“Order up!” Meredith exclaimed. Frank turned and saw her carrying their meals. He took his plate and watched her narrate the positions of the food and drinks.

“What did you want to ask?”

“What do you look like? You don't have to tell me. If you don't want to that's okay. I know it's weird.”

“It's fine kind. I'm not much to look at but I'll try to give it a shot.” He had to think and describe himself. He hadn't really needed to too before and he didn't feel comfortable describing himself like a target, it was too impersonal. He thought.

“Well I'm not sure. I'm kind of average. I guess? My hair is a bit grown out but I usually have it in a standard Marine haircut.” Kid pondered.

“Color?”

“Black, well mostly. Got some grey from life, my time in the Marines, marriage and kids. Mostly I'm just getting old.” Kid laughed at that. Frank smiled.

“My nose is a bit crooked. Got hit a bit too much.”

“Enemy combatants?” Kid asked a bit too interested and Frank was not heading that way for several reasons.

“Nah. I was dumb. Got into a few fights, lost some, won some.”

“You won't win against my dad.”

“Give me time. I'll get back into shape.”

“You'll still lose. My dad is a good boxer.”

“My dad is better than you.” He sing songed then made a go on gesture. “Anything else or are you all nose and a big mouth?” Frank laughed.

“No. Okay let me finish.” He tried to keep the tone light and was a bit exaggerating in describing himself but think it worked out. Kid was relaxed and happy by the time he finished. Good. His burger was half cold when he finished but didn't care too much.

Their conversation was light but Frank kept in mind his aim. He needed to know if the kid knew more about the chemical accident. If Frank was going to pursue it he needed to know all he could. Still it didn't seem like the right time to press. Kid was good and didn't seem to be suffering any sensory issues that Jack had mentioned.

He didn't know if it could be triggered by stress but he wanted to avoid it. There would be time enough for that later he thought. It wasn’t the most entertaining few hours but they had dinner, dessert and Matt was drinking a milkshake when his dad returned, a split on his right eyebrow but he didn’t seem to notice.

Kid greeted Jack with genuine enthusiasm and Frank felt his throat tighten for the briefest of seconds. He’d get his own justice and then maybe this one or die trying. He thought sternly. The thought was pushed away as Jack thanked him. Frank waved him off again.

Matt handed Jack his money back and Jack gave him this particular look. Frank wasn’t sure what he was thinking but didn’t say anything.

“You hungry, dad?” Matt asked as he returned to his drink. Kid had at least half a glass to drink.

“I’m fine, Matty.” Frank sat across from them. It felt awkward to just leave. “Thanks again for watching, Matt.” Jack said.

“Again, no problem. Kid was good company.”

“Yeah. I like Frank. He wasn’t boring.” Matt replied and then added. “Mrs. Cortes is boring.”

“Matt! Be nice.” Jack said with no actual venom, just exasperation. Matt smirked. Kid was trying to get a rise out of his dad.

“Well, at least I can die knowing I’m not as boring as Mrs. Cortes.” Frank added dryly. Jack laughed lightly. Kid grinned and kept drinking.

“How'd the fight go?” Frank asked, mildly curious. Jack hadn't seems too concerned when he'd mentioned it. Matt immediately perked up, sitting straighter in his seat.

“Yeah, did you win?” Matt asked enthusiastically. His father gave him a fond look but then Jack grinned, a savage thing.

“Yes.” A satisfied tone to his simply reply that hinted at more. Matt whooped.

“Wish I could've listened. We should have gone to a sports bar.” He said. Jack snorted.

“No. Not until you can drink.” Matt gave a sigh but this seemed to be an old argument. Kid wanted to hear the fight but a bar was clearly exotic and mysterious to him. A no made the least exciting places an automatically desirable to children.

“I knew you'd win.” Matt said. “Told Frank you’re good.” Jack preened at his son’s praise but shrugged it off with a simple rebuttal.

“The fighter any good?” Frank asked.

“Yeah. Young but good, a few more years and maybe he'll be a challenge.”

“You'll still win.” Matt replies confidently. Jack made a ‘go on’ gesture to his son and says.

“Finish your milkshake, Matt. We gotta go soon. I'm sure Frank has things to do.” Frank waved him off and added.

“Is fine. I don't have anything urgent or planned.” A large rumble startled him.

“You said you weren't hungry.” Matt said accusingly to a sheepish looking Jack.

“I wasn't.” He said. Frank laughed.

“I'll get something to go. Matt finish your shake.” Matt shrugged but obliged. He looked content.

“Burger was good.” Frank suggested as Jack caught the waitress’ attention. He placed an order for “the usual”. Matt excused himself to the bathroom for a moment, milkshake almost gone but a few sips.

“What's the usual?” Frank asked. Jack replied without a hint of humor.

“A burger.” Frank snorted. The cut to Jack’s brow caught his attention as the man peered in the direction his son had gone.

“You need someone to help with that?”

He motioned the cut.

“It's fine.” He said. “Nothing I can't handle. You really helped me today. Thanks.”

“It's not a problem. You have a good kid. Good to remember they are out there .” Jack made a pained expression.

“I can't imagine what you've gone through but thank you again.” Jack grinned and playfully said “seriously today was quite nice. My fight was easier than I thought. Good fighter but no real spirit. We sparred better rounds.”

“I'll get to the point where I will win. You'll see.” Frank said a bit of anticipation under his skin, looking forward to it.

“Matt would say otherwise.” Jack laughed. Frank scowled but without real feeling. They made plans to meet again as Matt returned.

He woke up with a suddenness that made him hesitant to believe he was awake. The fleeting remnants of his dream pressed against his mind in the vaguest of senses. He has the impression of Maria's smile, Lisa and Frankie's laughter, a thump of a punching bag and the reflection of light off dark lenses.It jars him.

He hasn't really remembered any dreams since the incident. He used to dream in some semblance of order or he had the impression. Now everything was disjointed, fractured and sometimes didn't seem restful.Sometimes he just had the impression of sun and the smell of blood so strong that he thought he was in the middle of a massacre.

He sat up in his dingy bed. His sight fell on a newly procured rifle. He grinned. Yes, this was worth the annoyance that came from waking up a bit perplexed. His trigger finger twitched and he felt a thrum of bloodlust. Soon. Soon he would be ready. Not right now but in the next few months he would be. His stamina was increasing and he felt less tired as before, his thoughts were less muddled.

Things were looking up for him given the shit turn his life had taken. He stood and rummage for the cash he had taken from several small time drug dealers. It wasn’t a large haul but he was finding sources of cash he needed for things he couldn’t otherwise obtain with a little money. In time money would be secondary in some respects, his own ammunition would help him build it by ambushing and taking out the filth before they even knew what hit them.

Still he needed money and needed it to build his stock pile. He looked over his notes. He had news of suspected Dogs of War activity in Hell’s Kitchen but the newspapers would only offer so much. Frank needed a police scanner to get a closer look at the communications coming from the authorities in that region.

Cops might be dirty shits in New York but they still acted on the law or at least the clean ones did. Was there anything like a honest cop? He wondered and went to make coffee.

New York was less lively during business hours. He made his way down the street, duffle bag at his side swaying with ease. It was empty but soon, soon it would be carrying just what he needed. A tap tap tap caught his attention and he turned, expecting and older man or woman using their cane.

He startled to see Jack with Matt at his side approaching the counter of a small store. Matt paused. He frowned and turned his head in his direction. Maybe he felt him staring, Frank thought but Jack immediately caught his son’s change and jerked his head up. The expression on his face was rock hard, ready to defend his son if necessary.

That expression melted into surprise and he smiled warmly. “Frank!” Matt’s expression also shifted from concerned to pleasant. He said something to Jack. Jack nodded and Matt tapped his way over to his direction, but a bit to the left.

“Hey kid.” The kid corrected himself and stopped when the cane tapped his shoe.

“What are you doing?” The asked with the innocence of a child. Frank didn’t think answering with ‘buying a police scanner so it can help me track down people to kill’ would go over well so he half lied.

“Shopping. Got to get somethings.” Matt nodded.

“You? Shouldn’t you be in school?” It was a Tuesday and not even ten. Matt made a face.

“Yeah but I had to go see a doctor.” He gestured to his cane. “I don’t have cancer still, so that’s good right?” His smile was strained. Frank gritted his teeth but agreed. Frank quickly changed subjects and motioned to Matt’s father who was almost done with his purchase.

“Late breakfast?” That cheered the kid up a bit.

“Yeah. I can’t eat as part of the exams for some reason but they’re done so we’re getting take out.” Matt looked like he was struck with an idea. “You should join us. Dad told me you don’t eat a lot of good food. Mama Tita’s have the best breakfast tacos. They don’t taste weird even after…” He gave a vague gesture with his cane.

Frank nodded then corrected himself. “Good to know, kid but I don’t think your dad would want me just imposing on your time.” He shrugged. “Besides I still have to do my shopping.” It was either now or very late. Lateness had its risks with more seedy elements moving freely on the streets, Frank wanted to avoid them if possible. He didn’t want the scanner to get damaged incidentally.

Matt pouted, a childish thing that had Frank smiling, but he didn’t argue. Frank wondered if the kid was going to his afternoon classes despite the doctor’s appointment. He heard approaching footsteps and saw Jack, who waved.

“Frank, it’s good to see you. You doing okay?” Frank nodded.

“Yeah, Matt was recommending the shop here.” Jack lifted his bag.

“He’s not wrong. You get good food for a good price.”

“Frank’s shopping.” Matt said with a tone that said he thought the idea was stupid. “Tacos are better than shopping.”

“Unless he’s buying better tacos.” Jack retorted.

“No one has better tacos on this street. I’d smell it.” Matt said. Frank shook his head in amusement. Jack rolled his eyes and took his son’s hand, which quickly made it’s way to the man’s elbow.

“We got to go, Frank. Good seeing you. We still up for tomorrow?” Frank nodded.

“Wouldn’t dream of anything else Murdock. You will go down.” Jack shifted, expression eager and infused with a hint of violence.

“Good, I have to make sure Matt’s prediction stays true.” Matt stuck his tongue out at Frank’s direction. Frank returned it without meaning to.

“He stuck his tongue out at you.” Jack said with a hint of laughter to his voice. Matt looked a bit surprised then laughed.

“No fair.” Matt replied and pouted but it dissolved into laughter again. Jack gave him a thankful look again. Then they were off and Frank went to get his scanner. It ate most of his fund but he felt right with the purchase. On his way back he stopped to pick up tacos for lunch.

The Murdocks hadn’t let him when it came to food might as well hope the trend kept going.

Matt met up with Foggy at a coffee shop. It was a public place and for the first time, he wasn’t followed. He wasn’t sure what it implied but he tried not to focus on it. Foggy was at least a bit more calmed down. He smelled new again – new clothes for his new job, ones that didn’t smell like a the secondhand clothing shop his old suits used to come from. “How are you? Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, Foggy.” He wanted to be reassuring, but he really wasn’t sure he was okay in the first place. Still, he felt like he made a good show of it.

“No more, um, pictures?”

“No pictures.”

“That’s good.” Foggy swallowed. “Karen wants to, um, apologize. For hitting you.”

“Apology accepted.”

“I didn’t know she did that, for the record. Though, sometimes you do things that make people want to punch you.”

Matt smiled. “I noticed.” He sipped his coffee. “What’s up with her and Frank?”

“You really are on a first-name basis with him.”

“Between punches, yeah. And kicks. And I think he threw me through a window.”

“I’m shaking my head,” Foggy said, because he was doing so. “You didn’t tell me you were pals with the Punisher.”

“I’m not. I only saw him once after the trial and that was – well, the fight with the Hand.” He didn’t want to specify that exact moment. It made his stomach clench. “But Karen – “

“Yeah, it’s weird. She hasn’t explained it. I don’t know if they’re together together – I don’t think they are. It’s just weird. Everything is weird right now, okay? I’m worried about her but I don’t want to look too closely.”

“You think he’ll hurt her?”

“Fuck no. If I thought that I would have sicced you on him,” Foggy said. “Maybe she’s a calming influence on him or ... something. I really don’t know. But she’s not taking questions about it.”

Honestly, he didn’t put it past her. She’d been obsessed with Daredevil and dated Matt. She had a type. “At least we know she’s protected.”

“Against Fisk?”

“I don’t think he really wants her,” he said. “She wasn’t Hoffman’s attorney.”

“That’s what this is all about?”

“We did put him away on Hoffman’s evidence. He holds grudges.”

Foggy sighed. “Has he said anything to you? I mean about, I don’t know, future plans?”

“He never talks business in the apartment. And he’s been out of town for the last few days.”

“So you’re alone in his apartment?”

“Vanessa’s there. And there’s a security – “

“Vanessa,” Foggy repeated. “He left you alone with his girlfriend? Did he not do any actual research on you beyond your education and your costume collection?”

“Foggy. Come on. This is serious.”

“Because clearly his research did not extend to the streak of female professors – “

“It was not streak.”

“ – that you happened not to have as teachers that semester.”

It was hard to come back from Elektra. After her, the law school students seemed immature, if in a different way. He leaned his head back. Good times. “They weren’t even professors in the law school, Foggy. I’m not an idiot.”

“You have your blind spots. You have a big idiot part of your brain that I used to just be filled with psychotic or more mature women. Now I know there’s punching and kicking and murder – “

“I’ve never killed anyone,” he said firmly.

“ – in there too. And okay, not Castle style, but not for lack of trying,” Foggy replied and Matt couldn’t totally deny that, not after Nobu. “My point is, part of you does not make good decisions. And now I’m sorry I might have put this idea in your head.”

“It was already there.”

“Ha! I knew it!” Foggy had cornered him. Verbally. It was how Foggy Nelson cornered people. “Just don’t – try not to make this worse than it already is.”

Matt could answer him honestly on this. “I’m trying.”

Karen knew something about why Matt kept coming in with bruises.

She brought in coffee for Matt on the bad days. The first few times, it had been a coincidence, but she let Matt deal with the studio’s coffee on days there weren’t any new bruises or cuts. (Karen was politely but firmly banned from making coffee at the studio.) She wasn’t saying anything, though, and neither was Matt.

Foggy had found the one thing that could stomp his crush like an ant under a boot. If Matt had ignored him, or politely explained that he wasn’t interested, then Foggy could have dealt with it until he finally found someone that could distract him away from it. Instead, Matt smiled and occasionally responded to Foggy’s invitations and did take the full tour of Foggy’s apartment. Matt laughed at his jokes and had strong opinions about organic produce and still texted him.

Matt wasn’t going to do a thing about Foggy’s crush, then, which was probably meant kindly.

Jessica apologized and didn’t fight when Foggy insisted that they should keep the scene. Trish had hugged him. Karen looked incredibly guilty every time Matt came in with bruises. Gwen and Peter didn’t say much about it either way, but both of them were increasingly reclusive and drawing nonsensical diagrams on their white-board. Gwen had actually hissed when Foggy asked how their tour of OsCorp had gone. It was nice to not be the center of somebody’s attention.

Foggy realized that coming to work wasn’t all that much fun anymore. Makeup was fun when Matt teased back and when Foggy wasn’t dedicating increasing amounts of time to covering bruises that varied from fresh red impacts to the sickly yellow tint of a healing bruise. Lately, Matt was quiet and Trish was worried and everyone felt too uncomfortable to fall into their usual bickering.

Registration to the next school year for Columbia would open up in two weeks. Foggy had a brochure about the law school’s undergraduate requirements in his back pocket and felt like everyone else could see that it might be time to move on.

Foggy was asleep when Karen called him. She said that Matt needed him. Foggy had been out of the building before realizing that he didn’t have his coat and wasn’t really that close with Matt recently. He didn’t slow down.

He’d pounded up the stairs to Matt’s stupidly high apartment, heart pounding so loud in his ears it nearly drowned out the worried guesses about why Karen had called him. When he knocked, Karen answered the door, pulling him inside by the arm before hurriedly locking the door behind him. Foggy opened his mouth to ask what was happening when he noticed a beautiful woman he’d never met before bent over a man dressed in black and sprawled out on the floor.

The Man in Black, by the mask. The Man Without Fear and Devil of Hell’s Kitchen had a fading bruise on the left side of his jaw that had been giving Foggy fits for a full week of shooting.

Claire, as she introduced herself, was pragmatic and clearly skilled at her work. She’d done those first stitches. It wasn’t some insane sex game with knives, it was some insane crime-fighting game going up against some Russian criminal syndicate and whatever other criminals had left those marks on him. Claire and Karen worked as a team to treat the worst of the injuries first. Foggy stood back by the door wondering just why he was here.

Claire left when her work was done. She hugged Karen and gave Foggy a curious but approving look. Claire managed to smile, a little, even though it was fully dark outside except for the billboard of doom and she’d washed blood off of herself up to the elbows.

“If I’d waited for the morning, he might have clammed up again.” Karen had her chin up. “I’ve known since I started living here, not that it was some sign of preference. A police officer in uniform was trying to murder me when the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen burst into the holding block and saved me. Officer Stacy let us out the back door and said that I should stay hidden until the internal investigation cleared up. So Matt took me to his apartment.”

Foggy stumbled over to a chair and sat heavily. “He’s a vigilante. Matt.”

Karen held up a bottle of some kind of clear alcohol. She poured for both when Foggy nodded fervently. “Yeah. Kind of a weird choice when he’s a celebrity and the mask isn’t hiding the cheekbones,” she said with a careless shrug. “He didn’t want to tell you because he’s convinced that would be the last straw. Then it turned into a full spiral of bad decision-making.”

“One heck of a spiral,” Foggy muttered. He very much wanted to yell and fume and demand a full accounting, but that wasn’t fair when Karen was pale and nervous. “You said he wanted me to come over?”

“I wasn’t sure he was going to live through the night.” Karen’s voice was steady. Her hands didn’t shake. All of her fear showed in her pallor and the uncertain twist of her lips, nowhere else. “He didn’t want to die without… Well. I convinced him while he was in terrible shape that if he didn’t let me tell you, then I would tell you without his say-so.”

“Claire didn’t sound much more sure that he was going to…” Survive caught in his throat so suddenly Foggy could have choked on the word. “I overheard part of what she was saying.”

Karen topped up his glass with another shot of the clear liquor that burned. “He’s going to need to call out of work this time,” she agreed. “I want to ask something. It’s not fair to you at all, but I’m still asking. If it’s not okay, then you can tell me, and I’ll stay here,” Karen continued in a rush. “But Trish said that I could stay with her tonight, if you’d stay with Matt. You deserve to hear why he’s doing this and he always wants you around.”

Foggy let his eyes wander and caught the slight tension in Matt’s hands. Someone that was asleep wouldn’t be able to maintain that partial grip, that full stillness that wasn’t relaxation. “We’ll be fine, Karen. If Matt goes and dies on me, I won’t forgive him for it, so there’s his motivation. Sound good, Matt?”

Karen shot a disapproving glance toward Matt before downing the rest of her drink and shoving her phone and charger into her purse. “Trish is just outside. Call any of us if you need something, Foggy. You’re everybody’s friend and it’s time that we were much more honest about that.”

Foggy kept that in mind through Matt’s halting explanations about having actual super-senses including a freaky sense of hearing that let him apparently work as a functional polygraph test. Matt didn’t guess like Foggy would about truths and lies and half-truths/half-lies. Foggy could look at someone’s face and posture and try to puzzle out a lie, but Matt would just know a lie. He could tell Foggy what he’d had for lunch the day before, even though Foggy had showered the night before. There was no need to ask if Matt could tell how long it had been since someone masturbated, there were some things Foggy was not remotely ready to hear.

He listened.

It might have hurt more, if he’d known Matt for longer or if they hadn’t started out as coworkers, but… well, it sounded insane. It sounded like the kind of super-senses that would get someone stretched out on a lab table for someone to dissect away just how to increase senses to the point that a normal human would break.

Foggy didn’t need the story about the little girl. He’d already decided, actually, but somehow Matt and his freaky heartbeat tracking hadn’t realized that Foggy wasn’t that easy to drive away. Anyone with evidence that someone was hurting a child would want to help. When the legal system failed… well, Matt hadn’t.

“You really need a better outfit, though,” he said after several silent moments. Matt still looked caught in limbo, still so sure that he’d ruined everything. Matt managed to look like the thought that Foggy would hate him was worse than nearly losing his bowels.

“I mean, Matt, I know that your eyes don’t work, but that’s not a great assumption for the world as a whole,” Foggy continued, warming to his topic. “Your face and your ass are actually incredibly famous, maybe when you work in some body armor or something try to find something that isn’t featuring both. I’m assuming right now that you aren’t stopping, and if we’re staying friends, I demand right of refusal on future costume decisions. Somebody with working eyes needs input, buddy.”

“I don’t think that I could stop. And I do want to stay friends. I know I haven’t... you’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Foggy. I couldn’t figure out how to tell you without losing you.”

The words sounded like they were being pulled out of him. Matt really hadn’t known Foggy for that long, altogether, and maybe he’d missed the part where Foggy was stubborn enough for three people.

“We’re going to figure this out,” Foggy said. It was a promise. Maybe Matt’s crazy heartbeat monitoring could pick that out, too. “Next time, though, when I’m wondering why you have bruises on top of your bruises, you are going to politely interrupt my hypothesizing about curvy women with anger issues and tell me that they were a mobster or something. And not the sexy kind.”

“R-really?”

“I’m still ticked,” Foggy cautioned, but at this point they were both half asleep. Matt had tried to prop himself up on the couch so they could talk, which was stupid on many levels. The man’s guts had been nearly hanging out and it wasn’t like Matt needed to be sitting up for a conversation, he couldn’t see. ‘World on fire’ or not, the idiot was working on some kind of bizarre sonar deal and too injured to be sitting. Foggy didn’t think either of them knew how that had ended with Matt half in Foggy’s lap, but neither of them was complaining, so he was willing to let it drop.

“That’s fair,” Matt agreed quickly.

“Very ticked,” Foggy said, half to himself. “Ugh, Matt, you need to tell people when you can hear private conversations all the way across a studio. Actually, does Jessica know?”

“I never told her?”

Foggy smiled. That was fair, too, Jessica seemed to know a lot of things that no one had told her. “She should know. At minimum Jessica.”

Matt nodded. Foggy took that agreement and ran with it, pulling his phone out of his back pocket and sending off a text message. Jessica replied less than thirty seconds later with a time and a place. When Foggy texted Karen with a request, she agreed less than ten seconds later.

“Alright, Murdock. You are staying here tomorrow because you are convalescing after somebody tried to pull out your intestines. Karen has graciously agreed to stay here and maybe sit on you if you try anything funny.” Foggy paused, taking in signs that Matt was still agreeing. “I’m talking to Jessica. She owes me one, after the disaster you definitely overheard.”

“I think I owe you more than one.”

“Probably,” Foggy agreed. Having Matt admit that he’d screwed up soothed some nagging worry of Foggy’s. It wasn’t that Foggy Nelson was a terrible friend who hadn’t done enough to try to get his friend to talk about maybe abusive relationships. He just hadn’t known his best friend the porn star and actually blind man was also the neighborhood’s new vigilante. “Your first job is to actually live through the damn night.”

“Tell me how I did in the morning?” Matt joked, visibly unsure of the reception.

Foggy smiled. “You know it, Matty. Now be a good half-mauled vigilante and go to sleep. Jessica owes me a favor and I’m figuring out just what I’m going to ask.”

Foggy was the second person at the studio. Despite the short notice, Jessica had managed to drag out the nicer couches that weren’t used in shoots without slipcovers. No one else had been there to help her, and at the end of filming the day before, both couches had been well back in the closely stacked storage area.

“You have super-strength.” The odd words felt right in Foggy’s mouth.

Jessica’s lips quirked. “Well, yeah, but mostly people ignore the smaller signs. I can kind of fly, too, but it’s more of a hassle than you’d think.”

“I was hoping that you did. I don’t know if I want to ask you to use super-strength to tie Matt down to his bed or to help him, but he’s the Man Without Fear.” Foggy hadn’t really expected Jessica to react to that, now that he was honest with himself. He was just so sick of being everybody’s favorite pet project that could never handle the truth. “He’s going against Fisk and he’s probably going to end up dead if he goes solo.”

“Living would be more likely if he had a little help,” Jessica agreed thoughtfully. “I like your idea there. Wanna call in your favor? I mean, probably dirty pool to tell you to use up your favor, but trust me. It makes my bargaining position halfway decent when I tell Murdock he will be accepting help.”

“Any debt between us is gone, absolutely. If anything, I owe you.”

“Foggy, we might shoot porno here, but it’s still a theater company.” Jessica smiled at him. It was as weird as the time Frank tried to hug him. “We love gossip and hearing it first. Karen is ticked that she’s on Matt-sitting duty, but she got herself signed up for that fair and square.”

“He broke into the precinct to save her.” Foggy still couldn’t believe the sheer nerve. Matt had gone into a police station in half a mask to save a stranger’s life. “Gwen’s dad helped Matt get Karen out of there safe.”

“We’ve got a lot of people on our side, Foggy. Fisk is going down hard and it is going to be one hell of a show.”

+ + +

If Jessica Jones had learned anything through Alias Productions’ incredible run of films, it was how to put on a show. Within the space of that morning in the studio, she had an entire team together and everyone was planning the successful takedown of one Wilson Fisk.

After a couple days, Jessica and Foggy decided Matt was allowed to leave his own apartment. Matt might have protested more if Foggy hadn’t been camping out there with his laptop and maybe a few changes of clothes. (Foggy had only lost the fight about taking Matt’s bed because blood-soaked silk sheets did sound like a terrible idea. His drycleaners might actually call the cops. Foggy did not actually mind being in Matt’s bed, really, except the part where Matt was recovering on the couch.)

Matt had contact information for better outfits, and his friend Melvin Potter was going to have several extra customers. With Jessica leaning hard and Trish looking on expectantly, Gwen and Peter confessed just what had happened during their tour of OsCorp and demonstrated some sort of wrist-based line shooter. Jessica went right from mildly puzzled to incredibly interested in the space of one shaky video of Gwen in action, swinging between buildings in a full-body pajama suit with an oversized hood.

As promised, Foggy had input on Matt’s new and improved outfit. The red was very nice, even if the horns were a bit silly, and it wasn’t quite as clinging as the all-black look had been. Spider-Man and Spider-Woman (Foggy did not know how the two of them had stopped there and not even tried for some kind of mythologic or geeky inspiration) also looked fine, but Foggy still thought they were too young to be on the set of a pornographic film. He definitely thought they were too young to destroy Fisk’s operation but he didn’t have right of refusal.

Marci sweet-talked her way into a few days shadowing a senior associate at Landman and Zack. She made sure to pick the most horrendously sexist attorney in the place through “unhappy accident” (Rosalind told her just which man to write down) and by the end of the first day the entire staff of receptionists and janitors was doing her bidding. By the end of the second, she had a large stack of copied papers in her previously empty briefcase. By the end of the third, she wrote down the number for Rosalind’s desk and handed it out to a few of the legal assistants who were tragically undervalued.

Taking down Fisk wasn’t Rosalind’s sort of case, really, but she had very good ideas about how to ruin Fisk best in a court of law.

Luke Cage was also joining the merry band of vigilantes and promised to bring his friend Danny along for the main event.

By the time Matt was healed enough that Claire agreed that the superheroics should go on, the entire team was ready to move and had even picked their favorite journalist. Ben Urich had exchanged occasional e-mails with Karen and the two of them planned to work together more after Fisk went down hard.

Ben Urich called them the defenders of Hell’s Kitchen. The Defenders’ first outing was almost disappointingly easy given the presence of so many people that very much wanted to punch someone. Matt, Jessica, Luke, and Danny were enough for a small army even without Gwen and Peter flying above and the occasional cover from a concealed sniper’s nest.

In the end, the Defenders won handily, Wilson Fisk and his lieutenant were in police custody, and Alias Productions abruptly stopped filming. Running a wildly successful porn empire with money won from Kilgrave in a civil suit had been satisfying. Punching criminals in the face was even better. Besides, its core members were busy.

Frank had already given notice that he was working on his final film. He’d gotten into porn mostly accidentally. PTSD had made him reluctant to touch people outside of highly controlled conditions, and after one too many comments about how PTSD clearly interfered with his sex life… well, he took double-dog-dare as a life directive. He liked Alias and he liked Jessica and he liked his costars well enough. He even liked the idea of occasionally providing cover for very big deal jobs.

Frank was in love with a woman named Maria. Leaving Alias was his decision, not hers, but felt right when he was dragging Trish to jewelers to give opinions on engagement rings.

Peter and Gwen were going to college together, dating, and working together as vigilantes. They were moving over to Queens but solemnly promised to check in before they got in too far over their heads with classes or vigilante activism.

Trish accepted an offer from a radio station to start her own talk show. She already made her co-stars an open offer to stop by and say hi on air whenever they liked.

Brett had been accepted into the police academy and had already accepted a lifetime of jokes about the cop who used to be a porn star.

Mary Jane Watson had a lead role in an off-Broadway play. Jessica bought out the front row for opening night and had everybody she liked and several people that MJ invited for her big Serious Actress With Clothes On debut. (MJ laughed herself sick at the card that Jessica made everybody sign and stuck it right on her mirror.)

Jessica and Luke (and sometimes Danny) were figuring out what to do when they weren’t busting heads. Jessica occasionally did private investigator work to keep herself entertained.

Karen was thinking about maybe going into journalism after she and Ben Urich published three straight articles together. Maybe she’d let Jessica talk her into managing publicity and licensing for Alias Productions’ films.

As for Matt and Foggy…

Foggy had both his laptop and his cellphone in constant use while Matt and the rest of the group were out against Fisk. He tracked their progress from the first mentions on twitter to shaky video clips from cell phones to local news stations taking notice of the story happening right in Hell’s Kitchen. Foggy watched it all from Matt’s couch. He knew that the Defenders were good, and he knew that it was immeasurably better than Matt taking Fisk down alone, but it was still hard to play Lois Lane.

Foggy still was ready to make Lois Lane-ing a full-time job.

He double-checked the Columbia application while he waited for Matt to come home. Fisk was in custody, now, but Foggy was not willing to relax until he personally made sure that Matt was okay.

Foggy would never know why people made tiny spaces in forms for things like phone numbers and addresses. He’d been careful to use his clearest penmanship working all the numbers and letters into place just right. The work history section was laughable, really, but it made more sense to just stay with ‘Alias Productions’ and put down Jessica’s office line. She was keeping the publicity segment open and making increasingly large bribes to let Karen run the entire thing.

Matt knocked before entering his own apartment, because Daredevil or not, he was a giant dweeb and Foggy loved him for it anyway.

“Hi Foggy,” Matt said as he peeled the mask away.

“Welcome back. Fight looked good on television,” Foggy said. Maybe he was smiling wide enough that people outside might notice, but that meant Matt might be able to tell. He still wasn’t sure how good his sonar was. “Get yourself a drink, Murdock,” he chastised when Matt looked ready to collapse on the couch. “And maybe get some non-vigilante clothes on.”

Matt was still far too battle-high to look sincere when he rolled his eyes up. “Yes Foggy.” A few minutes later, though, Matt had rinsed off in the shower, changed into sweats, and downed two bottles of water. He also was munching on the organic hipster trail mix Foggy had found at the street fair a week ago.

Foggy nodded, studying his effort. When superheroes kept their internal organs internal, they didn’t appear to be that hard to look after. He’d just need to make sure Matt stayed hydrated and keep snacks around in convenient places. It probably was similar to the law student in his natural environment, really, from what Marci said.

“Matt. I have an idea,” he said, patting the couch next to him. When Matt and his superhearing sat next to him, Foggy held out the application. “You said you can make out words if they were pressed in with a pen, right? At least some of them. Because I want you to check over this application to Columbia next semester.”

Matt looked as if he didn’t know what to say. He seemed to choose and discard four different responses before wordlessly tracing the paper with his fingers. He only got through the first word before he stopped and started again.

Foggy smiled. MURDOCK MATTHEW M was obviously not what Matt had expected. “We talked about it last week, but you and everyone else wanted Fisk taken down before too many distractions. So I thought that I’d scribe one out for you since the online interface is awful. I also spent two days last week down with the admissions department securing permission for you to live off-campus, as you’re already settled into your current apartment. I promised to not notice a few issues with ADA compliance around the university for at least another year in return, but they should be fixed up by then.”

“You’re going back too?”

“I’m ready if you are, Matt,” Foggy said. “I’ll get a master’s degree or just dual-degree my undergrad while I’m waiting for you to catch up, because I am not going to law school without you.”

“Y-yeah. We’ll take over together,” Matt said, fingers stuck on his name. “I always thought I’d have to go back sometime. My dad used to brag all the time about how smart I was. He wanted me to go to college.” He set the application aside so carefully it seemed that the paper would shatter under rough treatment. “I know there won’t be time for much besides studying in law school. Jessica already said that we all take care of Hell’s Kitchen together and refuses to let me hog the criminals.”

Foggy grinned. Jessica was occasionally his second-favorite person. Plus, Jessica had sat him down two days ago and told him exactly how she’d asked Luke out, and exactly how scared she had been, and exactly how well it had worked for them. “So. One more thing. This does not impact any prior agreements,” Foggy said, left foot tapping slightly against the floor.

“Yeah?”

Jessica was right. When you had already decided that you would say it no matter how stupid it sounded, you lost a lot of pressure looking for the right words or the right phrasing or the right time. You just took your chance and went for it.

“I’d really like to date you,” Foggy said bluntly. “I’ve done the pining thing, but expecting to pine from afar and have everything magically work out is stupid, so I’m asking you. I want to take you out to a restaurant on a real date and stay dating until you decide it’s a bad plan, which could be now, and then I will do my actual best to stop—“

“Yes,” Matt interrupted. “But not the stopping part. The… Foggy, we should date. We should date and go to Columbia together and maybe be the worryingly co-dependent couple that share a law firm.”

“Murdock and Nelson? Because we are not hyphenating if we’re sharing a firm the judges would actually murder us.”

“Nelson and Murdock,” Matt corrected with a smile. “It sounds better. I thought… well, you know. You and Marci were together. Most people can’t get over the previous partners issue. Or they just want bragging rights, or to try just once.”

Matt’s smile was flagging. That was unacceptable. “Matt. A lot of your previous partners are on film, buddy, I’ve known about them a while now,” Foggy coaxed. “I am absolutely not interested in ‘just once,’ to be honest, but would one hundred percent brag if we were dating because why would I not. If we’re doing the uncomfortable topics thing, I own every single movie you’ve ever been in, and before I ever met you I thought you were gorgeous.”

“So… we’re dating,” Matt said slowly, smiling brighter when the words seemed to sink in. “I had the stupidest crush on you, Foggy, and couldn’t believe you’d be interested.”

“Too late now, Murdock, we’re dating.” Foggy’s smile was starting to hurt his cheeks and he didn’t even care. "We met at work, anyone who wants more detail has to start admitting something."

“Fair." Matt tilted his head, a classic Matt Is Thinking pose. "You’re a pretty accepting guy. I don’t suppose you’re too traditional on three dates before sex?”

“N-no, all for breaking traditions.” Foggy knew perfectly well that Matt—his boyfriend Matt—could not see, but he still felt the weight of Matt’s focus even as his eyes were slightly to the right.

“I want to try out every fantasy you’ve ever had. Just tell me where to start.”

Foggy put his hands on Matt’s shoulders before his ridiculous boyfriend (Foggy’s boyfriend, he was not over that yet) could overthink matters. He leaned forward and pecked a kiss on his beautiful lips. “You’re already here, Matty. We’ll figure it out together.”

+ + +

Thank you to all of the lovely commenters! This is the first time I’ve tried the mutual pining/ridiculous shenanigans keeping the two sillies from confessing trope and it was really really fun. Thank you especially OP for the incredibly entertaining plot-bunny.

Disclaimer:
Please do not take the ending as a moral judgment, it just fell into place that Jessica had accidentally lost most of her named cast/crew to other jobs. I do not think people who do porn for a living need to leave to be happy, but I wanted to tilt back toward canon because it’s fun and this is (in the end) a fluffy story. Frank meets Maria this far into canon because Frank/Happiness is an underrated event. He will be too busy with his wife and adorable children for full-time Punisher work but occasionally plays sniper from well-guarded locations. He probably gets mostly replaced by Kate Bishop (bb!Hawkeye) and rolls his eyes a lot and fights with Clint Barton about guns vs. bows. Matt/Happiness is also important. Foggy and Matt will be avocados at law. Mrs. Cardenas can be a client later. She didn’t have lawyers to back her up, so she reluctantly moved out of her apartment after bad man shenanigans and later will get Foggy and Matt as the best lawyers she ever adopted. Gwen and Peter are Spider-Woman and Spider-Man at the same time because so there, Spider-People/Happiness too. Money doesn't buy happiness, but Jessica Jones got a large bundle of money in her civil suit against Kilgrave and financial stability is a happy thing.

I just got an image of Foggy using a spray bottle to clean the baby and when Frank walks in, he's horrified.

Foggy: Don't worry, I'm using warm water! And this way, the baby can't drown! :D :D :D

Frank: D:

Daredevil Prompt Post #11

Frank Castle name puns

Re: Frank Castle name puns

Cracktastic NCIS AU Magneto&Punisher preslash or slash or bromance

Fill: Such a Crush 7/13

Fill: Such a Crush 8/13

Fill: Such a Crush 9/13

Re: Fill: Such a Crush 9/13

Re: Fill: Such a Crush 9/13

Re: Fill: Such a Crush 6/?

Re: Networking

Re: DC Crossover, Matt Gets Lasso’d (Matt/Foggy)

Frank/Foggy baby in a dumpster

Re: Frank/Foggy baby in a dumpster

Re: Frank/Foggy baby in a dumpster

Fill 6- Revised/? : Frank/Jack Murdock: Matt gains another father

Fill 7/? : Frank/Jack Murdock: Matt gains another father

[Fill] Fisk Pities Matt (17/?)

Fill: Such a Crush 10/13

Fill: Such a Crush 11/13

Fill: Such a Crush 12/13

Fill: Such a Crush 13/13

Re: Frank/Foggy baby in a dumpster

Re: Frank/Foggy baby in a dumpster

Re: Fill: Such a Crush 13/13

Re: Foggy/Matt "Foggy's heart doesn't sound right"