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daredevilkink2016-04-21 06:34 pm
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Daredevil Prompt Post #11
HEAD OVER TO PROMPT POST #12.
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Fill 3/? : Frank/Jack Murdock: Matt gains another father
(Anonymous) 2016-05-04 05:26 am (UTC)(link)“Come on, Frank. That all you got?” Jack taunted as he dodged his punch. Frank glared and advanced. Murdock grinned, eager and excited. Frank feigned left and struck. Murdock’s grin was bigger. Frank had a moment to appreciate it before Jack moved, fast. Frank was on the defensive again.
The fight lasted longer than their previous ones but in the end Frank succumb to his lack of endurance. Jack preened in victory, his smirk just irking Frank to agree to another match.
“Your kid here often?” Frank asked when they finished. He hadn’t seen the kid the last two times they had sparred.
“Sometimes.” Murdock said and shrugged. “I can’t find or afford a babysitter sometimes. He’s with a neighbor at the moment.”
“Wife work a lot?” Murdock stared and then, after a momen,t answered honestly.
“I don’t have one. Just Matty and me.”
“Ah, sorry. Didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”
“It’s all right. I know I brought up bad ones earlier. You were honest with me so I’m honest with you.” Frank nodded. Though his discomfort was mostly an act.
He had found surprisingly little on Jack Murdock. His family appeared to be long time residents of Hell’s Kitchen. He found the idiom about their family interesting but it didn’t seem to point to a criminal family in of itself.
A few here and there had been in crimes but so far nothing on Murdock himself. Murdock worked as a boxer and on the ‘off’ months did manual labor when not training. He found one wedding announcement but nothing more on a family life. A divorce made sense given the circumstances.
He was honestly glad that his new sparring partner was relatively clean. It was nice to not worry about outsiders potentially ruining his plans for a fight or having to look for a new partner. That would mark him in the memories of more people. Frank was trying to stay low.
Jack was really the only person he was ‘friendly’ with and that was still part of his overall plan. He was getting back in shape and an opponent was good, even if he did stick to boxing. Jack was actually quite good at varying his fighting. It made him a fun opponent.
Jack leaned against the ropes of the ring. Frank took in his profile. The muscles of his arms were obvious even in a relaxed state and he caught sight of his torso as the shirt stuck where sweat had built up.
“So you want to catch a beer or a game sometime?” Frank snapped his gaze to Jack’s face. He looked nervous and a bit embarrassed that he had asked.
“A game?”
“Yeah. What’s your pick? Baseball, football, softball?”
“Only if I’m suddenly a six year old girl.” Frank snorted in reply. He considered the proposition. Frank should say no but he was tired and he wasn’t going to be doing anything soon. He’d get there but on these kinds of days––where he had run himself ragged getting in shape or tracking down information–– there was time.
There was nothing but time anymore. Time until he got to his revenge. Time until he took out the gangs. Time to build up his armory. Time until he was at his physical peak. Time.
All Frank did was go back to his shithole and not think. Pretend to watch television and not seethe. It was a distraction and Frank could plan.
Lay low but not socializing would also draw attention. The loner. The gunman. The psychopath. They would say. He fit their ‘profiles’. So he answered.
“I'm usually up for whatever is on. Marines didn’t leave me a lot of free time for a few years.” And it was true. Jack’s posture actually relaxed, small tension left his form and the smile on his face was genuine. Frank found himself returning it without meaning.
He needed herrings if he came up as a suspect or potential suspect.
It was nothing more.
The next morning Frank drank from his coffee and looked over the morning newspaper. There was a crowd at a new sandwich shop. Frank was eating in the small shop across the street. Greasy eggs, meat, and questionable coffee. His usual.
Same bullshit. Politics. Corruption in the police. Crime up in Hell’s Kitchen. He almost closed the paper when something caught his attention.
RAND CHEMICAL DEPOSITION SCHEDULED
...incident which left a local resident of Hell’s Kitchen, Matthew Murdock, then aged nine, blind from unsecured chemical barrels. Rand is under investigation for improper permits and transportation of dangerous chemicals. An out of court settlement was reached with….
Frank put the cup down. Anger stirred in him. Matt hadn’t always been blind then. It explained some of Jack’s actions, shaking his head then repeating the meaning out loud. It added a new layer of meaning to the odd way that Matt had displayed with the cane in the gym when he was clearly comfortable in the place. He wasn’t using it because he had to there because he needed to, it was practice.
Frank read the article. It didn’t give much information.
He would need to follow up on this.
Maybe add people to his List.
Re: Fill 3/? : Frank/Jack Murdock: Matt gains another father
(Anonymous) 2016-05-04 05:50 am (UTC)(link)Re: Fill 3/? : Frank/Jack Murdock: Matt gains another father
(Anonymous) 2016-05-04 04:33 pm (UTC)(link)Fill 4/? : Frank/Jack Murdock: Matt gains another father
(Anonymous) 2016-05-20 03:32 pm (UTC)(link)Nonetheless, someone who was trusted still over saw them and that person had connections, and that was Frank’s target tonight. The man was in his early thirties and looked like he could use a bullet between his eyes. He was berating a newbie on some job; maybe he didn’t bring enough dough or sold enough drugs.
Frank didn’t give a shit. He would take them all out in time. He just needed to make sure he connected all the pieces right. The dirt piles that killed his family came first before anyone else, if the Dogs of War weren’t the ones responsible then he had no plans on killing them.
Once he was done cleaning up, God knows there was still more to pick up after. First, it was strictly personal.
Yeah. Things were definitely adding. Up. His trigger finger twitched. A few more rifles, ammo and weapons. A few more recon sessions. Everything was adding up slowly.
Frank grinned, savagely, and put the scope away. Yes. Everything was coming together. He was missing pieces here and there but he’d get to them just like this.
He ran a hand through his growing hair. It wasn’t too bad but it irritated him. He needed a haircut. His hand skidded over his most recent gunshot wound. Another reminder of his mission.
He looked at his watch. He had to go meet up with Jack. He sighed. He needed cover and it was a necessary annoyance.
His body protested his walk away. Better than last time. He was tired nonetheless. Cover was acceptable use of recovery time. He reminded himself. He went to drop off his notes and changed at his safe house.
Frank met Jack at an empty bar. It was oddly loud from the blaring televisions on the walls. The noise buzzed in the back of his head. He doesn’t know how he did it before or tolerated it, this nonsense.
Jack came into view of his periphery. A beer fell onto the tabletop with a muted clank. Jack grinned
“You’ll see. They a good beer selection.” he shook his own bottle, a twin of the one in front of Frank. “You’ll see. This place is worth the beer alone.” He said asssuredly. Frank just nodded and took a swig from his beer. The combination of its flavors was almost soothing. It was good, just as Jack had promised. At least that had delivered.
“You’re not wrong.” Jack grinned in agreement and took another swig of his bottle. They talked about nothing really, but it distracted Frank enough to enjoy the alcohol. They finished the first beer fast. Jack ordered two more, different brew but just as good. By the time they were ready for a third the bar had filled more, not a weekend crowd but a presence that had Frank uneasy.
“You have to try the onion rings.” Jack said as he came back with the third. “The beer and rings are fantastic together. Matty loves them.”
“You bring him here?” Frank asked surprised Jack laughed and shook his head.
“No. I take them home. I’m a single father, not an irresponsible buffoon. I mean I know I look like one but come on.” He waved to his face. The faintest traces of a bruise shadowed the left side. Not Frank’s work, it was a recent match that Jack had won. Frank had watched.
It had been a good fight. It was one thing to spar with Jack; it was another to see him actually fight. Man was like a brick house. He wouldn’t go down. After a while it was just a matter of one-two-K-O.
Clearly he had been going easy on Frank.
“Some bars are grills in the day.” Frank answered instead of confirming the dig. Jack’s eyes narrowed. He knew what Frank had meant but he let it go. He drank from his beer.
“So what do you say? Yes or no to the rings?”
“Yeah. I’ll try them. You were right about the beer so might as well try the complete package.” Jack moved to get up. “I’ll buy. You got the beers.” And Frank didn’t have a son to support on an amateur boxer’s income. Frank grimaced, as he had to push his way through the crowd.
CHEMICAL SPILL IN HELL’S KITCHEN
RAND CHEMICALS DENIES RESPONSIBILITY IN HELL’S KITCHEN CRASH
LOCAL BOY SAVES MAN, BLINDED, IN RAND FIASCO
Frank read all the articles he could find after learning about the deposition. The glare from the lenses of the sunglasses in the gym as the read each article came to mind during each of them. The assured smirk. The goading little pain in his ass was a hero. Least he could do was help his father with onion rings.
He ordered two servings, one to go, and when the order came out he returned to the place at the bar next Jack. Jack raised a brow at the box but didn’t comment until Frank pushed it toward him. “For you kid.”
“You don’t have to.” Jack said and didn’t take the box. Frank rolled his eyes.
“Take them, last thing you want is your kid whining about not having brought him anything.” He lifted the beer. “Think of as a thank you for decent beer and food.” he took a bite of the onion ring. Huh. It was good. “Kind of been living off crappy take out.” Which wasn’t a lie. Frank didn’t have the time to be cooking when he could be working.
Jack stared at him. Then, after a moment, took the box with thanks. They went back to their talk, half nothing and half about an upcoming baseball game that Frank had somehow agreed to try and catch with Jack.
They split after that beer. Jack headed to pick up Matt from a neighbor and then home. Frank went back to his safe house. He felt sated even though the false calm from the alcohol was almost gone by the time he headed to sleep. It was worth the few hours of uninterrupted sleep he got from that.
Re: Fill 4/? : Frank/Jack Murdock: Matt gains another father
(Anonymous) 2016-05-20 04:17 pm (UTC)(link)Fill 5/? : Frank/Jack Murdock: Matt gains another father
(Anonymous) 2016-05-23 12:18 am (UTC)(link)He wondered what the footwork was like without the visual cues. Kid had an idea of what boxing should be like and had some training so he might have a pretty good picture. Frank blocked and smirked as he managed to get Jack into a corner. Kid jumped.
"No! Come on, Dad!" Frank concentrated on getting Murdock to acquiesce. So far Frank hadn’t won a single spar. Give him mixed combat and then he’d get something but boxing with rules? Yeah it was a good challenge.
One miscalculated move on Frank's part allowed Murdock to escape the corner. Kid whooped. Frank glowered and tried to corner Jack again. Jack evaded it with quick footwork and had him down again. Frank conceded. Jack would win again. Though he had been close.
Okay, closer.
The man grinned in triumph. Frank returned it because it had gotten his adrenaline thrumming. He wanted to suggest another match but Matt came to the ring and crowed on about his Dad's skill. Frank couldn't get annoyed because the kid quickly started asking questions making sure his visualization of the spar had been correct.
Jack glanced at him. Frank shrugged as he answered a question meant for his moves but aimed at Jack. It was fine. Answering together seemed to make it less awkward. The kid went from directing the inquiries to just his dad to Frank immediately.
“How'd you corner my dad?"
"Luck?" Frank answered half humoring and half honest. He hadn’t really planned it but had gone with the opening when he saw it.
"Liar. You just don't want dad to know so he can't prepare against it next time he goes up against you."
"Matt." Jack warned. "It was a good fight. You can't expect everyone to tell all their secrets. Besides if it was skill then that means I can up my game." Kid grinned. He looked excited.
“Then you’ll keep up your streak.”
“I will beat you, Murdock.” Frank said.
“Well I’ll be waiting for that day.” Matt stuck out his tongue. Frank laughed. Kid was a card. Jack rolled his eyes.
“I guess we should set up are next match.” They did and chatted a bit about. Matt felt his wrist. Frank saw a watch.
“Is it ten? Can we go home? I’m hungry.” Frank and Jack looked at the clock on the wall.
“Yes, it is. We have to go Frank. We’ll see you for the game?” Jack said and helped his kid get his things.
“Yes. I’ll let you know if I can’t.” Kid nodded as well and said goodbye as well.
The gym was empty now. He moved to a bag. His mind refocused. He thought about his aim tomorrow. He was getting acquainted with the black market of New York. He pounded the bag.
A few days later he met with Jack and Matt at restaurant-bar mix in the day. They watched and listened to the game over snack food. Matt seemed to indulge less enthusiastically in food than Frank would expect of a preteen.
Jack was eyeing his kid every once in a while but seemed content as long as his kid ate. Frank decided not to ask about it or look into it. Kid could’ve been a picky eater. God knows that his had their-had had their phases. It was a good game and ended with Frank paying after losing a bet on who would win.
The next time he saw them was at their sparring time. Frank was going against Jack and hoping to burn out his frustration. The last few days were unprofitable in terms of new information, new equipment and made him feel like he was going around in circles.
Jack’s greeting was terse. Frank didn’t think much into it until Jack aimed and didn’t seem to be pulling his punch as much as usually or holding back as usual. Frank had hell of a time and found he was struggling to keep up within the rules of boxing. This didn’t have the usual pace and Frank didn’t actually find himself liking it.
“Alright, let’s take a breather.” He rasped and for a moment thought Jack wouldn’t. His look on his face was furious and frustrated but Jack pulled back and immediately moved to a bag. Frank frowned and let him hit for a few seconds before stopping the bag.
“We going to have a problem tonight? If you can’t spar I can work alone.”
Jack glared at him. “No.”
“You sure because this isn’t the normal. I want to improve my fight not actually fight.” He gave Jack a knowing look. “I wouldn’t stick to boxing.” Jack gave a solid punch to the bag and Frank let go. Damn that was a hard hit.
“No, I’m not fine.” Jack took a breath. “Look, you’re right. This isn’t a good day for us to spar. I’m not in the right mind set.”
“What is it?” Frank asked because this was new and if it meant the end of their sessions he needed to know.
“Nothing. Just a fight I have scheduled.”
“The one against Alvarez?” Jack snorted.
“No, that one got cancelled and rescheduled with another fighter. I have one in two days. Half the pay.”
“Shit. You going to make it for the month?” Money trouble was a common issue in Hell’s Kitchen.
“Yes. It’s-I need to find someone to look after Matt.” He sighed. “My neighbor usually watches him but she’s out of town. I know he’s old enough to stay alone. It’s just he hasn’t been alone since his accident.”
“The chemical spill.” Frank added realizing he had said that out loud. Jack nodded.
“You heard then.”
“Yeah.”
“Do you know what was on those trucks? It is bad enough that, sometimes, industrial waste is passing on our streets but this was some secret new compound. Matt has to go to the doctors to make sure he doesn’t get cancer and God knows what. So far he hasn’t had any signs of poisoning or cancer, which I’m thankful for but it’s affected him.
“He can’t eat what he used to and sometimes having him get dressed is a pain because everything feels like sandpaper to him. His, his sense of smell has gotten better but I don’t know if that’s the chemicals or just because he can’t see anymore. You haven’t seen him collapse because he says he can hear everything.”
“You don’t want to leave him alone.” Frank said and seethed.
“Yeah but I probably will need to.” He sighed. “I trust Matt. I don’t trust what those chemicals are doing to him or did. I’m just worried he’ll be gone when I’m away and if he’s alone he can’t get help.”
“I’ll watch him.” Frank said. Jack paused. Frank didn’t know why he had offered. He hadn’t meant to. He seemed to be doing that a lot. He wondered how much more getting shot in the head affected him that he hadn’t realized.
“You don’t have to.”
“Look. I’m not going to bullshit you and tell you I know what you’re going through but I know what it’s like to worry about your kids. The worst thing my kids dealt with were sprained joints before but I can look after him for you just once.” Jack stared at him.
They hadn’t known each other long and it wasn’t something Jack clearly had expected. Hell Frank didn’t know why he had offered but he wasn’t going to turn tail.
“Let me think about it.” Frank nodded. “Thank you for the offer it’s just-“
“I get it.” Jack nodded.
“I think I can spar now. For real.”
“Good.” Their fight was better and Frank managed to work out some of the frustration he had brought with him. At the end of the fight Jack looked more collected and answered.
“I’ll take up your offer but under my terms.” Frank agreed. It wasn’t much. Just meet and stay at a dinner where Jack knew the people who worked there. Afterwards Jack would meet up with them. Matt would know not to leave and the workers would make sure he didn’t leave with Matt.
A matter of trust and a matter of concern, Jack was all that Matt had and visa versa. Besides Frank might be able to get a bit more out of the kid about Rand Chemicals. Once he was done with his business they were on the top of the list of scumbags to target.
He couldn’t take down the company with a gun alone but he could help maybe find something and slip the right words in the right ears. Until then Frank could help with babysitting.
Re: Fill 5/? : Frank/Jack Murdock: Matt gains another father
(Anonymous) 2016-05-23 03:04 pm (UTC)(link)Fill 6/? : Frank/Jack Murdock: Matt gains another father
(Anonymous) 2016-05-29 02:01 am (UTC)(link)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 kno w 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. They stayed until the kid finished, Jack ordered something to go, hunger having caught up to him during their wait.
Jack and Frank made plans to meet again.
Fill 6- Revised/? : Frank/Jack Murdock: Matt gains another father
(Anonymous) 2016-06-17 01:58 am (UTC)(link)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.
Fill 7/? : Frank/Jack Murdock: Matt gains another father
(Anonymous) 2016-06-17 01:59 am (UTC)(link)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.
Fill 8/? : Frank/Jack Murdock: Matt gains another father
(Anonymous) 2016-08-31 03:08 am (UTC)(link)“Could you be anymore of a Catholic, Jack?” He replied then grinned, a hard thing that was probably a bit viscous. “But yeah, I’m okay. You should see the other guys.” Frank unconsciously clenched his bruised fist. Jack’s instinctively looked towards them. The instant Jack’s gaze met his fist his nostrils flared.
“You get them? You need help?” Frank’s grin grew. Jack’s expression turned bright with a peculiar light.
“No, but thank you for the offer.” Frank unclenched his fist. Jack nodded,the hard expression on his face morphing into concern again.
“If you ever need help, Frank, let me know. I know this isn’t the nicest of neighborhoods. Sometimes you gotta defend yourself.”
“Thanks again but I handled it. I was a Marine after all.” He replied and gave a light shrug. “We still going to the game?”
“Really that’s up to you. You look awful to be blunt.” Frank smiled again. He had made the same assessment that morning when he saw his reflection. His left eye was swollen and he is lip was split but he could see and then there was what his clothes his, bruises and a few scrapes.
“I could use it after last night.” He said honestly. Frank needed to rest at least a few hours and reassemble. He could also admit he liked Jack. They got along well. It beat passing it at his safe house eating a can of beans for the next few hours–he also made a note that he needed to buy food.
Food also sounded good too. He rubbed a bruise under his shirt and motioned that they should get moving. A bruised torso was definitely worth the illicit cash and weapons he had taken. He also may have left a body or two. Maybe not, one shot one kill wasn't his goal that night. Fair was fair.
The game was an hour away but they were taking the subway. It would be packed and crowded. Good to blend in. A few people shot him a few looks but with Jack’s own slightly bruised face he didn’t feel too conspicuous. On the bright side, there was a bit of space for them in the subway, not too much because New Yorkers were New Yorkers.
On their way their Jack talked about how he apparently won the tickets in a bet. Frank was apparently the first person he had asked. To Frank this meant two things, either Jack didn't have many friends or he thought they were better friends than Frank thought.
“You rooting for any of the teams this season?” Jack asked. Frank shook his head.
“Not particularly just whoever is doing better. Like I said I'm pretty much unopposed to any game because it was either that or finding a book I hadn't read in the middle of nowhere.”
“Come on, not even the Yankees? This is New York!” Jack joked. Frank shook his head. “Frank, Frank, Frank, we need to cultivate some team loyalty while you're here. Otherwise it will be a lie when we wave our pennants.” Frank snorted and laughed when he had an image of himself with a Yankees cap while sniping.
Jack shot him a curious look. He shook his head.
"I just had an image of myself in a Yankee's hat and with my gun." He snorted. "While I was in the service, I mean."
"I don't think that's what Uncle Sam had in mind at any point." Jack said with a smile. Frank glanced at the station. Jack took a glance as well. "Soon we'll have some over priced beer, hot dogs and probably a hat since it's going to be sunny today."
"Great. Now if I sign up again my vision can be complete." He deadpanned. Jack laughed.
They arrived at the station and exited. Frank disliked the crowd and the pushing. It set him on edge but he tempered his reactions by concentrating on moving forward. Jack seemed to sense his dislike and tried to place himself as a buffer. Good man, knew there was as reason he liked him, Frank thought.
Finally they made it past the main crowd packed at the entrance. Frank followed Jack to the gift shop and helped him buy Matt some souvenirs with raised logos. Frank did end up buying a hat, it was sunny as Jack had commented earlier. He didn't need sunburn on top of his bruises.
They took their seats after standing in line for food. He thinks it would've been nicer before but everything before the Park was something like a weird dream where he had a family and home. Now he was a different person, alone and somehow making a friend who he sparred with in preparation for his revenge.
In time he would have to drop this friendship too. This was temporary. Everything was temporary now except for his mission. Frank knew there were only two ways it would end: his death or arrest. He tried to shake off the train of thought.
He focused on the game and eating the overpriced nachos he had bought. Beer helped as well. Instead of making him angrier he relaxed. Jack's enthusiasm for his team was a big part of that. Frank found himself complaining or rooting for the Yankees along with Jack.
By the time they left, one inning left but they didn't want to be sardines again, they had drunk a bit more than was probably wise for a hot day but they weren't shit faced and Frank knew his own tolerance.
“You heading home?” Jack asked him as they entered the train. They snagged two seats.
“Yeah.” He said.
“If you don't have any plans today you should head over to my place and eat dinner. Matty’s on an overnight field trip. I didn't really want him to go but he really wanted to go. Hope he's having fun.” Jack said.
“You worried about him?”
"Always.” Jack said with such conviction that if anyone had ever doubted Jack as a father it would have cast those feelings aside. “I always worry about him.” Jack leaned a bit towards him, shoulders touching. Frank didn’t really notice until he shifted a bit away.
“Yeah. Kids do that.” He said and tried not to think about his own. He shifted in his seat, there shoulders were touching again. Jack didn’t move away. Probably wouldn’t do any good, the seats were a bit small.
“Don't know how you do it.” Jack replied a moment later.
“I don't have a choice.” He thought about his plans, abstract as they were. “Everything I do now is for them. For their memory.” Jack nodded and they sat in silence for a moment. The heavy tension in the air between them before Frank replied:
“We can get dinner. I need to burn off this beer and I don’t have much for dinner except a can of beans.” Jack started to snicker before seeing his expression.
“You’re kidding.” Frank glared for a moment. “You’re not! A can of beans? Really? Even I kept more than that when I was a bachelor.”
“I was busy.” Jack laughed. “Okay, we’ll get dinner then. Won’t be much. Maybe a good sandwich. At least you’ll sober up enough to get more food after.”
“A sandwich is fine.” Frank replied and shifted in his seat. He was slightly drowsy from the beer and the ride was lulling him a bit. He needed to wake up enough to be aware of his surroundings. He was sure that the Dogs he had ambushed yesterday hadn’t seen his face but he couldn’t take the risk of being completely off guard in public.
"Hey, our stop is coming up.” Jack replied. Frank stood up. Their seats were immediately pounced upon by a few standers. They made their way to a residential street. The apartments were old in the building they entered, worn but not neglected. Jack’s apartment had the same appearance, it was worn but well cared for otherwise and a bit small.
"The man’s home was clean, not that he expected a sty. Frank was just expecting some mess that people normally had. Everything in a place and set in a way that reminded him of the kid’s blindness.
They had dinner. It was a simple sandwich but it quenched the hunger he had developed once the stadium food had passed. A glass of water had sated his thirst that had risen in the heat. He meant to leave after, thank Jack and leave but the heat, beer and activity from last night made him lag.
Instead he found himself sitting next to Jack on the couch and watching the late afternoon news before he felt sober and awake enough to head out. Despite his bruises they agreed to meet tomorrow for another spar.
Frank bought supplies and headed to his safe house. He turned on the scanner. The thing had already practically payed for itself last night. He lied down and listened.
Most of what he heard was nonsense but what wasn’t, code for drug and organized violence, helped paint a picture of territories and activity centers.
He had picked up enough to learn that the Irish were in the same line of business as the Dogs. After he had realized there was the Cartel, newish, but they were also moving heavily to gain traction in Hell’s Kitchen. They were all rivals. Direct rivals, not simply incidental ones, and they fought for territory.
There was a high probability they would meet and fight...not caring who was caught in crossfire…He fell asleep gazing at the weapons he had seized and the thought of buying more. His dreams were filled with the red of blood and the heat of the day’s sun.
***
“What do you think about mixed martial arts?” Frank asked Jack as the man tapped his newly bandaged fists together. Jack frowned.
“In what way?” Jack asked and leaned against the stage to the ring.
“In us fighting. You know anything else than just boxing?” Frank asked and wondered if he could teach Jack some more if he needed to spar with different moves.
“I know some but dabbling isn't really my area.” Jack answered with a shrug. “Don't really have the time or money for many other classes. It was useful in training but not really learning in depth. I’m a boxer.” Then he grinned. “You ready to call it quits, Frank?”
“Never.” Frank said emphatically then added “just thought we could use a change in pace. I will beat you, I'm close.” Their last round was a close call. Frank felt like he was almost, if not quite, back up to speed. Sparing seems to have helped a process he thought would take longer.
Jack grinned, eyes bright. “Close isn't it though but you know what? I'm game. We can try some other things.”
“You'll be the underdog now.”
“Trust me I'm used to it.” Jack said and dropped his gloves into his bag. He was going to work the bag. Frank pulled himself up from the edge of the ring. Jack helped him, laughing at his groan as his tired muscles protested.
“Go on home, Frank. We’ll do mixed but until you’re in top shape I think I’ll have less of an advantage than you think.” Frank feigned a punch in response, too slow and clunky to be serious. Jack blocked it with a laugh and feigned a hip check. It surprised Frank and he tumbled a bit
Jack grabbed at him to steady him. Hauling him up against him. Frank looked up. “Thanks.” he said. Jack nodded, his eyes locked on his with the movement. Frank realized how close he was to Jack.
A moment passed, they stood still, sweat dripping down both their faces and realizing they were the only two in gym that late in the evening. Jack licked his lips. To say something? He could feel Jack's breath. Frank wasn’t sure -
A siren rang, passing quickly, but it caused them to both jump back. Jack licked his lips again and looked at him. It was a curious thing, and Frank figured he probably wore its twin.
“Mixed martial arts. Yeah. We’ll do that.” Jack said. Frank nodded. He didn’t reply. They had plans to meet already.
Fill 9a/? : Frank/Jack Murdock: Matt gains another father
(Anonymous) 2016-08-31 03:09 am (UTC)(link)He glanced at his watch. He had to go soon. He grabbed his gym bag. He walked briskly to the gym. The heat of the day was dissipating as the sunset but it was still warm out. Frank caught his reflection on one of the passing buildings’ windows and knew he had a fine sheen of sweat on him.
Frank wiped at his brow irritably. He reached Fogwell. The gym was hardly any better temperature wise but strong fans around the room gave the impression of a breeze. That is if you didn’t mind if a breeze smelled like old leather, sweat and the faint scent of musk from the many men who spent their days there.
The room was almost empty. Most of the regulars left at sundown at the latest. He scanned the room. Jack wasn’t there yet. He went to the locker room and changed. The splashed some water on his face and wiped away the sweat. The water at least helped him feel cooler.
He exited the locker room. There was maybe one man still at the gym, doing a set of lifts and was clearly a beginner. He left a few minutes later. He didn’t bother throwing an inquisitive look at Frank. Had Jack cancelled? He wondered as the man left when he came back from the locker room. He saw a shadow forming on the door. Frank stood up.
“If it isn’t Mr. Victory.” Frank goaded as Jack entered the gym. Jack grinned, the shiner on his left eye looking worse for a moment. “Caught the fight. Good job. I had no idea you could hit that hard. O’Donovan’s face looked like he got hit by a brick in the slow mo.”
“I have been told I give a hit as well as I take it.” he said. He shook his head. “Sorry I missed a bus when picking up Matt.” Frank shrugged.
“It’s fine. Go get ready. Can’t warm up if you’re not ready. It wouldn’t be fair.” Jack rolled his eyes and eyed him.
“You got a new cut?”
“It was overgrown. You would think I was more of a punk that a former marine from that mop.” Jack tugged at his own hair, short and straight.
“I think it was like mine right? You call that a mop? Jeeze.”
“Marines.” He shrugged. “Go get changed.” Frank beckoned. Jack disappeared into the locker room. Frank started working on a few stretches. He remembered what it was like at first, when he first started out and wished he still had that physique without all the scar tissue as some of the stretches pulled on from not quite forgotten wounds.
Jack emerged. His shirt looked new. It certainly fit him closer than the previous items he sparred in. Those had been looser.
“That new?” Frank asked to confirm.
“Yeah.” Jack shrugged though he looked pleased. “I thought maybe it was better for today.”
“Yeah, that’s true.” He took a look at the shorts. They were good. Jack knew at least some basics. Good. They each worked on their warm ups. When they began to spar it was tougher than Frank had expected. When he thought he said he knew a little more of other techniques, Frank thought Jack had meant a cursory passing in some techniques.
Frank clearly should have asked for a better explanation when he has asked Jack. He pushed Jack away. The man grinned, a savage thing. Frank knew exactly why Jack knew more than a few moves. He liked to fight.
The Murdocks have the Devil in them. He recalled. He upped his game.
“That all you got?” Jack grunted from the floor. Frank grinned he had him pinned. Jack tried to wiggle out but Frank just readjusted his grip. “Damn. Fine. I give up.” Frank let him go. Jack fell back, on him for a moment, before rolling off, standing up and offering him a hand. Frank took it.
Jack smiled at him. He looked sheepish and laughed with a shake to his head. “You beat me.”
“Told you I would.” Though he preened he was honestly surprised by the victory.
“You did. You rest up for the day?”
“Nah. Just a good day, I guess.” Frank said and resisted the urge to touch his bullet wound. Scar now, but all the same he didn’t want to draw attention to it. He felt almost like himself again. He had noted the muscle gain and his increased stamina but nothing like before, still he wasn’t going to spit in the face of a good day. Frank stood straighter.
Jack smiled again and shook his head. “That’s good. I think we should celebrate. No? You finally beat me.” he grinned. “Though not at boxing.”
“You want to just out brawl, Murdock?” Frank asked half joking.
“Not today,” Jack replied.
“I still won. What do you mean by celebrate? A beer? I don’t think I want one right now.”
“No,” Jack agreed. “Something.” He didn’t seem to push on it. Since it was his win Frank guessed he was supposed to choose.
“Lunch? Next Yankees game?” Frank asked. “Might convince me to at least give them a better chance.” It would be in a few days.
“When’s the next game?” Jack paused to think. “Yeah, I can do that.” He frowned. “You mean at a bar right? I can’t really-” Afford tickets and food, Frank thinks he wants to say.
“Yeah. I don’t like shitty hot dogs that much.” Jack nodded. He seemed relieved. Frank wondered how often people got annoyed with him for that. He stretched and felt his muscles protest the movement. Looks like his wind had passed.
Jack followed the move and copied it. It seemed to help. “That’s fine. I gotta train a bit too.” He motioned for his bag near Frank’s. “Can you pass me my water?” Frank pulled the bottle from the worn bag. Jack drank appreciatively from it. Frank licked his lips and went to get his own bottle. Better.
“How are you upcoming matches?” Jack shrugged.
“Same ol’, same ol. Nothing I’m too excited about.”
“Your chances good?”
“Yeah. You looking to bet?” Frank snorted.
“No.” he laughed. “Just asking.” Jack smirked.
“I’m going to win.” his tone would be cocky on anyone else but as Frank had fought the man he knew it was truth. Jack knew his fighters too. If Frank were a betting man he would definitely place his money on Jack
Frank gave a faint nod. “I believe you.” He thought. “You know any good bars for my victory meal?” Jack named a few. They made plans. It was good. Frank took his time in loosening his fatigued muscles.
Jack hit the punching bag. Each hit was a precise move with calculated force. His muscles conveyed his power and in the ring it was clear he was also fast. Battlin’ Jack.
Frank wondered just how much of the Jack in the ring was with in the man he had spent time with at bars and with his son. Frank finished his routine and headed to gather his things. He walked out of it a few minutes later. Jack’s punches had the room resonating with the thumps from the bag
He neared the door. The thumping stopped. “Your new cut looks good Frank.” Frank nodded
“Thanks. Have a good night, Jack.” Jack wished him a good evening too Frank was halfway down the block before he realized he was smiling. It had been a good day.
The game was a few days away. Frank decided to give one hit on the local scumbags again. He could prepare for a few days and then strike. He needed to find more leads. Frank thought he had pieces of the right puzzle but didn't have the whole picture. He needed answers.
It didn't quite work out that way. Frank hit a local bar. He was listening to the chatter around him. He was pretending to focus on the screen in front of him when a couple of low level boys spouted shit about a recent shipment. It was in Spanish.
He knew enough to get the gist. Frank definitely got enough to confirm that the Dogs and Irish were direct competition. Yeah they were fighting over turf. How about Central Park. Maybe a bit about product? He didn't hear more.
He wanted to follow the punks when the screen in front of him changed. It was an old fight. A recap of Jack’s previous matches. He saw the same ferocity he had against the bag, he blocked, he worked well against his opponents.
He drunk his beer quickly. He lost the punks. Fuck. He left the bar. He had info but nothing new really. Except for that other dealer. He hadn't heard anything about them anywhere. The cops were keeping quiet about him.
Maybe he did have something. He thought. He went back to his safe house. He slept. !
He met with Jack at a small bar he noted a few tourists and relaxed minutely. A couple near the bar have him the distinct impression from Wisconsin. The male half of the pair turned and glanced outside. His green shirt had name of the state.
Frank took a small table. He glanced at his reflection on one of the mirrors on the wall meant to make the place look larger. He brushed his hair back and cast a glance at the door before turning to the menu.
Jack joined him a few minutes later. Frank brushed off his apology. Jack wasn't late. Frank had gotten there a bit early.
“You see anything you like?” Jack asked as he motioned to the menu. Frank nodded.
“Yeah. You? Let me guess you're a regular too.” Jack laughed.
“No, I came a few times before. They're good but not my kind of regular place. Too far from home for it.” He yawned. Jack looked tired.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. Long night. Matt couldn't sleep until two and then he woke up around five.”
“You need to be elsewhere?”
“He went to school -his choice, not mine. He will be tired but probably able to sleep tonight at least.”
Frank nodded. They ordered and turn to chat about the game. It was nice. His food settled in his stomach well and he really enjoyed Jack’s company. They were friends, he realized. If only for the moment.
He'd repay him for this slice of normality where Frank didn't need to be on guard all the time or at least fully. It was safe because it looked normal, was normal to any outsider not in his head.
The Dogs, the Irish, the Cartel, Rand and the new drug runner. Frank had a lot of shit to clean up. Just not now. He let the tension in his body easy and ordered another beer.
When evening came Frank went out to do a reconnaissance. He looked for dealers. It was easy to spot the small exchanges. Small time dealers didn't really know anything.
They were easy pickings for money and to scope out the territory of a group. It wasn't perfect but he had a rough overlay of the groups’ territories over a few square blocks.
Bikers were the Dogs. The Caucasians were probably the Irish- dressed more normal and less junkie stereotype. The Latinos were probably with the Cartel.
Like he said not perfect. He spotted several players he couldn't identify or was comfortable grouping into the others. Still he thinks the independent players he did confirm were that mystery drug dealer.
He didn't take them out. It was too risky still. He felt good and thinks he can take them (they wouldn't be too armed) but he would rather get more information. Luckily he had patience and money talked
He did a quick calculation of his funds. Yes money talked and walked. He turned and headed to his safe house.
He caught a punk mugging a couple and took him out of commission. It had been a good day.
Fill 9b/? : Frank/Jack Murdock: Matt gains another father
(Anonymous) 2016-08-31 03:10 am (UTC)(link)He met with Jack for sparring a few days later. In the corner was Matt, sitting with some school books. He scowled in his direction.
“Hi, Frank.” Matt greet dourly.
“Hi, Matt. How’s school?”
“Fine.” He replied and he could feel the full extent of the glare behind the glasses.
“Really? Doesn’t sound like it.”
“It’s *fine*.” He repeated.
“Where’s your dad, kid?”
“In the bathroom.”
“Uh huh. I’ll just wait for him.” Kid scowled.
“Dad told me you beat him.”
“I did.” He said proudly. “Told you I would.” Kid’s scowl intensified.
“Liar. You cheated.”
“I didn’t Beat him soundly.”
“You did! You didn’t box. That’s cheating!”
“Look, I’ll concede that I haven’t beaten your dad in boxing but I beat him in my own game.”
“Cheating.” He repeated.
“Matt!” Jack snapped as he came out of the locker room. Both he and kid jumped. “Don’t be a poor sport. You want to be punished?”
“Yes.” Frank laughed. “I want to learn more boxing.” Jack’s exasperated expression made it clear he knew he had messed up with his las punishment. “He cheated though!” He pointed toward Frank. He was off by a few degrees but he was still pretty accurate.
“It’s not cheating if I agreed to that fighting style. Otherwise it would be cheating if he switched midway through boxing.” Matt opened his mouth. “Homework.” Jack ordered.
“But-”
“Matthew.” Kid pouted and pulled out his books.
“Sorry about that, Frank.” Jack said with a smile. Frank shrugged.
“It’s fine. I know how it is.” Jack sighed, clearly not wanting to make the moment anymore awkward.
“You ready?”
“Yeah.”
“Beat him, Dad!” Jack’s disbelieving look had him laughing as Jack rounded and barked.
“Matthew Michael Murdock! Homework!”
“I am!” Frank lost the fight. Jack helped him up and slung an arm around his shoulder.
“Next time, Frank.” He called as the kid jumped and ran to them and crowing in support of his father. Frank smiled. When the kid reached them he realized Jack hadn’t moved his arm. He let it slip to direct Matt to a nearby bag, his tone serious as he started to scold him for poor sportsmanship again.
“You want to help?” He asked Frank. Frank blinked in surprise.
“You want me to help with boxing?”
“Can I learn something else too?” Matt asked, eager.
“That okay, Frank?”
“Yeah, I can help with a few moves, stretches mostly but it’ll help your form.” Kid brightened. Jack smiled at him. Frank grinned and helped Matt warm up. He wasn’t dressed for PE but he didn’t care nor Jack.
He couldn’t meet for the next week. He was disappointed. The sparring had improved his form a lot and he felt the difference as he stalked the neighborhood and learned more gangland territories. He was firmly able to identify a few dealers for a few gangs. It was good.
The unknown dealer had a more contested network. He couldn’t tell how he recruited them. He just knew he needed to be put down even if he wasn’t responsible for the loss of his family. He was dealing at a rate that meant the gangs were going to start openly warring with each other if past experience was any indication.
He couldn’t risk it. There were too many innocents in New York for all it was full of shit. (Innocents everywhere and God have mercy on all their souls.) He could almost make it through the night and he thinks he could take on several men alone without a gun. With a gun Frank was one of the best.
He almost tested it out. He had to get some downtime though, recover and process what he had. Exhaustion made people slip and fail to recognize patterns. Adrenaline would help but Frank wasn’t in a fight it was just reacon now.
“Can you believe Matt’s history teacher told me he wants to hold him behind? He doesn't think that Matt can do the work.” Jack groused. Frank shook is head and took a swig of his own beer.
“Matt is in top of his class despite the accident. Do you know how quickly he learned Braille? I mean he struggles like anyone who lost their sight would but he can read! My boy makes sure he understands what he reads. I’m not the smartest man but I can tell you Matt isn’t wrong. He has a print copy of his assignments so I can help him. He’s rarely wrong.
“And this stupid prick wants to act like Matty is some sort of struggling kid. If he were I would be thankful but he isn’t. People just see a blind kid and think dumb!” Jack throws his fist against the arm of his sofa. The whir of the fan dominated the silence that ensued when Jack took another swig of his beer.
“I take it you told him to fuck off?” Frank asked after a moment.
“You're damn right I did.”
“Good.” Jack looked pleased by his irritation. Then he stood up.
“I'm going to get another beer. You want one?”
Three down each, a fourth wouldn't change much. He glanced at the time. “Yes.” It was early enough. Frank noted he wasn't swaying. Probably the advantage of having to stay on his feet while taking several blows. Form was always good he thought as he trailed his eyes down.
Yes. Jack was a good choice in sparring partner. He was glad to have met him. He had helped his recovery. He opened the bottle which was why he was there. He needed to stay in Jack’s good side.
“What do you expect out of people now?“ He asked. Jack frowned
“You mean with Matt?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know. It’s the worst. Most people won’t care, treat him normal and help him but sometimes. You know I really pray to God for guidance and forgiveness then. You know?” He growled.
“I guess. God and I haven’t really been seeing eye to eye for a while.”
“Have faith, Fank. Have faith. It keeps me going.” He ran his finger along the neck of the bottle. “It keeps me going when everything is seems unfair. Matt will never pay for his medical care. We got that as a settlement. Our lawyer, which is another expense I have to worry about, says he doesn’t think anyone is going to get charged.” He looked angry.
“They said Matt is at fault too. He shouldn’t have saved the life of the man. Can you believe it? They bring those chemicals, unsecured, in our home. They drive their trucks which needed repairs here -the driver wasn’t found at fault, I don’t blame him- but they still blame my son!”
“Calm down, Jack.” Jack’s grip on the bottle loosened. “I think you’ve had a bit much.”
“I can drink more and be fine.”
“Yeah but I asked the wrong question.” Jack relinquished the bottle. Frank took one last drink of his own and went to dump them in the kitchen. He found two clean cups and filled them with water. When he returned Jack was reaching for the remote and turned on the television.
“Is it okay if I sit with you for a bit?” Jack nodded. He chugged the water. Frank drank his slowly. After a few minutes Jack spoke again.
“I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s fine. I understand. It’s not the same but I get it.” Jack closed his eyes. Maybe it was in prayer.
“Thank you for understanding.” He smiled at him, a strained thing.
“Don’t mention it, Jack.” Frank gave him a light punch to the arm. He was aiming at friendly but knew it was awkward. Jack caught it. He didn’t push it back. He squeezed lightly on it.
It was- Jack kissed him or maybe Frank kissed him.
It was - Frank found himself on unfamiliar ground for the first time since he woke up. He had had groundwork laid out. Now he had stepped off- lost off the course. They pulled back.
“Frank.” Jack breathed and this time Frank did initiate the kiss. He surged toward him and Jack didn’t push away. It wasn’t a make out session, maybe they were too old for that but it was-
Jack pulled away. He looked at the time.
“Frank. What are we-?
“I don’t know.” He replied. Jack licked his lips.
“I think we had too much beer.”
“We didn’t have much.” Jack took a breath.
“Do we-”
“Talk about it? I guess.” The alcohol was too prominent in his blood to make him comfortable.
“Later.” Jack said.
“Yeah.” He went to stand. Jack caught his arm and pulled him back down.
“Stay. You drank more than me.”
“You sure?”
“You asked the right question now.” Frank stayed. They sat next to each other, watching the local network. Jack didn’t have cable. It was comfortable, he realized. He was comfortable around Jack.
Jack placed a hand on his thigh. Frank didn’t move it. It was a lull almost. Just sitting there, he thinks they both felt the awkwardness of this change but it was nice.
Frank didn’t know what he was doing. The false calm of the alcohol faded after a while. He just felt raw. He thinks Jack may have dozed a bit because a loud commercial. He smiled at Frank, a bit strained but genuine.
“It’s fine.” Frank said, unsure of what else to say. Jack glanced at the clock and jumped.
“Shit. I have to pick up, Matt.” He murmured. “I’m going to be late.” Frank stood. Jack grabbed his keys. He juggled them awkwardly.
“Go get your kid, Jack. I’ll see you at our usual time?” He asked. Jack paused then nodded.
“Yeah. I’ll see you.” He licked his lips. “You still have to beat me.”
“And you beat me too, Jacky boy.” Jack smiled. He motioned for him to exit with him.
Frank went back to his safe house.