Rekindling friendships gets a little hard after you’ve been supposedly dead for about 3 months. They worked it out though, with time. The “Defenders,” as they had been dubbed, consisted of Matt “Daredevil” Murdock, Danny “Ironfist” Rand, Luke “Power Man” Cage, and Jessica “I don’t do superhero names” Jones. The Defenders were not a team (despite Danny’s claims). They had their own homes to look after, and that was it. Occasionally, a larger issue beyond them would call The Defenders back into a semi-begrudging alliance.
Such seemed to be the case on this cool night, as the gentle riverside breeze brushed along the thick armored suit Matt was gliding along rooftops in. It was a welcome feeling compared to the sticky blood which had begun to cake upon the fists of said suit, a result of an early patrol to warm up for this battle by the docks.
Heavy weaponry, potentially of a military degree, slithers its way through New York into the backyards of one alcoholic PI, two heroes for hire, and a blind guy with anger issues. These arms dealers would soon regret knocking on the wrong doors.
Jessica stalked around the east corner of the dockside warehouse, her fists clenching in anticipation. Her posture was casual, but on closer inspection, it was clear she was keeping an eye out for oncoming goons.
Meanwhile Luke was tasked with securing the west ground level entrance. He hung by the door and cast the occasional glance up and out towards the sky in wait for the resident ninjas to secure their topside entrance.
“We’re ready when you are, boys,” Jessica drawled out in a whisper. She didn’t bother looking up as she heard the gentle thump of feet upon the rooftop, paired with the youthful half whisper of one Danny Rand.
“We probably should’ve asked Matt how many were in there before we, y’know, took off?” He commented, waving at Jessica like an over-eager puppy. He slinked down off the rooftop and up onto the small staircase stretched up along the outside wall.
“Mm, he can just yell it out later. He’s probably telling Luke as we speak, anyways.”
“Nah he’s sitting on the roof like a dang gargoyle, I can feel it. The most those two shared was like- a head nod. A manly head nod, yeah.” Danny says in a confident whisper, his blond curls bobbing up and down as he vehemently nods.
“You are so fucking strange, Rand.”
“No, I am th-”
“If you say Immortal Iron Fist, so help me God, I will chuck you into the Hudson.”
He simply grinned in reply. Jessica in turn rolled her eyes, glancing out towards the pitch black river unlit by the blinding dockside floodlights. She cast a glance down at her phone, catching sight of a simple text.
Luke: All good over here. Matt says 14 total.
Rand: 👍👍👍👍 count of 3 then?
Luke: Sure.
She’s already put her phone away by the time Rand bursts through the upper entrance. The distant crash of wood to the west signaling that Luke has similarly made his way inside. She wastes no time in joining in, kicking in the metal door with her foot and immediately socking some poor sod in the face.
The Devil, dramatic as ever, makes his way in through a window. Shooting a billy club directly at the head of an unsuspecting arms dealer. Show off.
The fight should be simple, they’re already taking care of numbers fairly well, having caught the group by surprise. Things seem to be going in their favor, the drumming of fists on fists pairs well with the clink of a gun being dropped before it can even be fired. Amateurs, really.
Jessica grabs some brute with both her arms, swinging him into the rusting metal walls of the junky containers housing thousands of dollars worth of guns, and God knows what else. An easy smirk has spread its way onto her face. She’ll admit, she’s having fun.
Rand breezes past her, his fist aglow with his weird mystic magic whatnot. He slams it directly into the solar plexus of a goon who’d just begun spraying bullets aimed at Luke.
Luke himself is cracking heads as a runt tries to offload a very unstable looking semi-automatic weapon (definitely their first time using it, wow) directly into the man’s chest.
“Man, I literally just bought this sweatshirt. Thought it would last at least two patrols.” Luke sighs.
“Is this not a regular occurrence?” Jessica comments.
“Yeah, but it’s inconvenient every time.” He retorts lazily, approaching the man who has dropped his weapon. He kicks the weapon away after a single punch to the goon’s noggin. He crushes it in an attempt to decommission the damned thing, shaking his head at his newly ruined mustard yellow sweater.
It’s a consistent rhythm, in which A: gunman realizes he is holding a gun and actually uses the damn thing, B: one of The Defenders begins unceremoniously beating the crap out of them, C: they move on. Rinse and repeat. It’s the usual game, and Jessica is a-okay with staying on script tonight. But of course, she never gets what she wants.
She turns towards the rest of the mess to see how their resident Devil is doing, finding he is fairing well in his ass kickings as a billy club thwacks two men on their heads.
They bounce like sheet metal and crumple like bean bags. Matt turns his head up at Jessica, aware she’d been watching. His lips tilt up in a more pronounced smirk than the typical ‘I've definitely got issues, so I smirk when I beat criminals into a coma.’ Jessica only snorted at him in reply.
Something pulls his attention up toward the second story balcony. Jessica raises an eyebrow at him, but doesnt say anything. All the goons have been gonked, their toys dismantled.
Matt sucks in a breath, on his feet and shouting, “Jessica, get down!”
She hears something like a pin chink and hit the floor about 20 feet away from her, up above where large piles of cargo lay vacant. A sharp elbow rams into her and she's on the floor in seconds, letting out a gruff sound of surprise as she slams into the concrete. She looks up to see Matt standing where she previously was, a pellet the size of a baseball slamming right into his face. She finds herself scrambling to her feet as the pellet lets out a sharp mechanical pang like a gasket exploding. The device flashes an insane cyan hue, one lost on its victim as it releases some sort of gas into the man’s face, a plume of thick white smoke. Matt drops instantly, letting out a strangled noise as he breathes in the mist, no doubt in sensory hell with his bat-like ears.
“Shit- Matt!” She calls out against her better judgment. She glares up at the perpetrator, a man clad in military-esque kevlar and heavier gear. Definitely not just a goon. She grits her teeth, preparing to run up there and put the asshole in his place, when a pained groan from the floor pulls her attention back to her friend.
She falters, unsure if she should chase or check on the man curled up all but five feet from her, before her question is answered. Danny shoots past her, evidently aware of where the explosive came from. “I've got him. Check on Matt,” Danny grunts out, uncharacteristically curt in his tone. She doesn't even spare him a nod before she is down on the ground beside him, Luke running up to his other side.
“The hell happened?” Luke asks, leaning down and examining the writhing man. Matt has curled himself into somewhat of a fetal position. His hands are wrapped like claws around his ears as he begins to tear and scratch at them, as though to pull them off. He pants like a wild animal, gritting his teeth and growling as he tries to combat the pain. “What do you think? He–”
She falters. No time for getting sappy, Jones. “He pushed me out of the way of whatever that was, damn bat ears,” She mutters frustratedly. Luke sucks in a breath, shaking his head.
“We gotta get him out of here.” He decides.
Jessica nods curtly, and this seems to cue a reaction from the vigilante curled up on the floor. He lets out a pitiful moan before his breathing picks up rapidly. “I can’t see.” He declares.
“What?” Is all that Jessica can manage to exclaim, she’d be more concerned if he had miraculously gained his sight. But Matt’s sudden declaration doesn’t stop. “I can’t see- I can’t- I can’t see, I can’t see!” His speech is slurred as he claws at his mask uselessly.
“Sweet Christmas,” Luke whispers under his breath. The larger man nods his head at Matt’s incessantly clawing hands and Jessica reaches to pull them away from his face before he cuts himself up, even with half his face being shielded from his own wrath. The second she touches his gloved hands, she is reminded why he is called The Devil of Hell's Kitchen. Matt’s hands shoot up, throwing a punch square for her nose. Her head rears back in time for the wild shot to miss, but Jessica lets out a hiss of curses. “The fuck?”
After witnessing the rapid hook the blind man just attempted to throw, Luke himself backs away, looking warily between Jessica and the now rising Murdock. Matt stumbles like a baby deer, swinging wildly at the air around him. The typically graceful acrobat looks like a fish out of water as he makes a very crude attempt at a swing. The hook makes his head teeter forward and he begins to fall onto his face. Luke curses under his breath and shoots out a hand, catching the stumbling man and immediately wrapping him in a disarming hold with his arm sandwiching the smaller man’s back to his chest. Matt does not like this, and begins screaming bloody murder, trying to pull himself free with the wrath of nine hells.
“The hell is your problem, Murdock?! Chill out.” Jessica chides despite herself, brushing off dirt from her leather jacket. “We should get him to Claire. See if she can figure out whatever the hell is up with him.”
Matt has seemingly tired himself out for the moment, his head lolling as it drops, the curl of his horns facing out like a bull ready to charge despite his disposed state. She can hear him muttering something under his breath. Cage lets out a sigh, loosening his hold slightly. “I don’t trust him not to start kicking up again. You drive, I’ll keep him secure?”
“Sure.” And she’s off, hiding her nervousness as she races out to collect her car down the street.
Luke shakes his head, sighing once more as he glances down at the Devil in his grasp. “Man, it's always something with you, Murdock. Jeez,” he mumbles, taking in the disheveled state of the guy. He’s got a few abrasions from their previous fight, though nothing major, just some scuffs. The mist which had blasted him in the face hadn’t left much of a physical trace, save for the condensation shining on the crimson helmet and skin, mixed with sweat. Nonetheless, Luke could smell the remnant stink of the chemical. Synthetic and pungent. God, he can only imagine what it smells like to Murdock. That’s gotta be what’s driving him up the walls.
“You calm down yet?” He asks. Matt doesn’t offer him a response, instead he continues his half whines and delusional muttering. “Hey, Murdock,” Luke tries again. Nothing. He huffs in minute frustration before pushing his arm up, trying to ensure the limp vigilante in his arms doesn’t slide out from his grip. Matt does not seem to like this, and is immediately back to his previous state of kicking and flailing as he tries to fight Luke’s grip. “Shit- Calm the hell down, Matt!” Luke snaps. Matt does not stop, chuffing out a soft snarl before he actually leans his chin down and- “Did you just try to bite me? Dude,” Luke whines in disbelief.
A gentle thud pulls his attention away from the ravenous man in his arms as he looks up, catching sight of Danny and calling out, “Did you get the bastard?”
“Mm, nah. He took off, through the sewers, I think. Lost him after he tried to chuck another one of— whatever it is that conked Matt in the face— at me.” Danny shakes his head in defeat, his blond curls bobbing. “Is he ok? I could hear him from outside.” Danny says, walking down the stairs and trying to catch sight of Matt in his entirety while occasionally glancing up at Luke.
“Man, I have absolutely no clue what’s wrong with him. He’s not responding to me when I talk, but the second anyone touches him or moves him, he’s kicking and snarling.” He explains defeatedly. “We’re gonna take him to Claire. Jessica’s getting the car.”
“Mm, Lemme try something.” Danny mutters, eyes trained on Daredevil's masked face.
“By all means,” Luke says, relaxing his grip a little. This seems to be a mistake as Matt worms his way out of the grip, immediately wheeling around and trying to launch a haymaker directly into Luke’s chest. Obviously, punching a bullet proof man doesn’t work very well. He pulls his fist back with a howl of pain. Luke backs up, raising his hands in defense. Danny curls into a defensive stance, not exactly sure of why Matt is acting the way he is. He watches the crimson clad man, arched with his fists up towards Luke, swaying like a bag in the wind just by standing, as if unsure. Matt is never unsure when he fights. He’s rigid, all tics and brutal hits. This Matt? Well, he’s anything but. “You said he wasn’t responding when you called. Did he say anything?” Danny inquires softly, slinking behind Matt while maintaining a five foot distance.
“Yeah, I mean he started muttering, but when he went down, he screamed about how he couldn’t see. Which- y’know.” He gestures pitifully with a shrug in Matt’s direction. Danny nods in understanding, keeping his eyes trained on Matt, who stands in wait. He doesn’t even seem to know Danny is there. Oh. Oh! Danny suddenly takes a confident stride forward, breaking the five feet barrier. He slinks in front of Matt, grabbing his wrists gently.
He immediately fights back, trying to pull his hands away and out of the other man’s grip. “Hey! It’s ok, it’s ok!” Danny placates uselessly. He pulls against the struggling man, placing his hand upon his chest. Matt grips the material of his shirt, huffing and rearing his head as though trying to understand. His taut jaw pops open with confusion, an open frown lining his face. “D-“ he huffs, regaining his breath. “Danny?”
Danny doesn’t reply, instead tapping Matt’s wrist twice. “Danny.” Matt says again, as though confirming to himself. It doesn’t sound correct, as though he’s unsure how to pronounce it. He’s speaking too loud, despite Rand being right there.
“What’d you do?” Luke inquires, cautiously taking a step forward.
Danny glances back at him with a sheepish smile. “I think whatever hit him took out his hearing. That’s why he attacked you when you touched him; he didn’t recognize you.”
“Damn.” Luke breathes out. “That makes sense, yeah. How’d he recognize you?” Danny doesn’t respond immediately. Matt’s breathing had returned to hyperventilation with the sudden lack of stimulation.
Danny doesn’t waste a second, pressing Matt’s hand into his chest once more with a little force. Matt grabs the fabric of his shirt again, letting out a noise before taking the other hand and curling around Danny in a very estranged rendition of a hug. “Danny I can’t- I can’t hear. No taste, nose feels funny, face is cold, It's gone, the world on fire is gone.“ He trails off.
“Heartbeat,” Danny explains. “He can’t hear it but I reckon he can feel it. He explained his senses to me once- vaguely.” Danny returns the hug, giving a watery smile despite the nature of the situation. “He's got this sort of radar, works with a combo of like, echolocation and stuff.” Danny goes on. “I think he’s cut off. He said ‘It’s gone’ which I assume means the radar— he started mumbling about fire? Not being able to taste or smell? —Maybe it's a sensory suppressant. Looked real high tech when I had one sent my way.” He concludes sadly, his voice carrying softly with a sense of melancholy at his revelation.
Luke hums in understanding. He lets the air hang for a moment, listening to the sound of approaching wheels on asphalt. “I think Jess is here. Is he good to move?”
Danny taps Matt’s back twice, Luke watches as he drags his finger along the other man’s back, seemingly spelling something out before ending it with a question mark. Matt hesitates before nodding. “Yeah, he’s good.” Danny confirmed.
Luke nodded. “I can carry him if that would be easier.” Danny pursed his lips before writing on Matt’s back once more. This time, Luke watched carefully.
“L-U-K-E” Danny wrote out.
“Here?” Matt replied quietly.
“Y-E-S.” He made a motion with his hand, and Luke approached. The Ironfist pulled his friend's hand off his chest, inciting a hum of disapproval from the man. He placed it out towards Luke who kneeled down toward the approaching contact. Matt’s hand made contact with Luke’s torn sweatshirt, feeling the bullet holes it had left and accidentally making contact with smooth skin. He hummed, settling after being dislodged from the other heartbeat. Danny removed Matt’s other hand from his back, letting him latch onto Luke.
“U-P, T-A-K-E, T-O, C-A-R.” Luke instructed slowly, similarly writing out each letter on Matt’s back.
“Ok,” The other man grumbled. His voice was gravelly from all the screaming and snarling he’d been doing before. Luke gave him a warning with two gentle pats to the side of his thigh before he lifted Matt into his arms bridal style. Matt froze up for a moment, death gripping Luke’s already torn shirt and arm. He sucked in a breath before slowly relaxing, drawing a relieved sigh out of Danny.
Luke gave him a nervous chuckle before hauling Matt to the car.
–
“He's deaf?” Jessica asked.
Danny had his legs kicked up on her dashboard, earning him a glare. Luke was crammed in the back with Matt, halfway between falling asleep and passing concerned glances at the redhead who was clinging to the leather seats like a lifeline.
“Eyup,” Danny nodded, popping the p and glancing back at the pair in the back of the small automobile. “Might be more than that, can't be sure.”
They’d taken off Matt’s mask, sitting it down in the aisle between their legs. His meek and confused stature had changed drastically when they entered the car. He now sat taut as a bowstring, his wide unfocused eyes showed a tired distraction beyond sight, pointed emptily at the back of Jessica’s head. He looked uncomfortable, now aware more clearly of the events that transpired after his pushing Jessica out of the way.
“What a dumbass– why does he do this? I swear to God, any time the four of us try to do something as SIMPLE AS A WEAPONS BUST, his self sacrificing ass always finds a way.” She huffed, muttering tiredly under her breath a quick, “I need a drink”.
“Finish the driving part before you move onto the drinking part Jess.” Luke quips with a smirk. The driver flips him the bird, though she’s biting back a smirk.
“How’s he holding up back there?” She comments after a moment.
Cage glances at the stone still ninja before him. “Fine, looks real stressed though.” He drawled, sighing. “We almost there?”
“Yup, about to pull up. Called Claire while I was grabbing the car. She’s expecting us.” Jessica confirms, spinning the wheel and parking on the side of the road.
The walk up to Claire’s is awkward. They are a band of four decently well known vigilantes, hobbling an unmasked Daredevil up a flight of stairs— occasionally stopping because Danny had tripped not once but twice, “It’s very dark Jessica it’s not my fault there’s no hallway lights—“ “you are literally a ninja! How the hell-“ In the end though they manage to get up to her floor.
Claire is on the case immediately, all semblance of anything other than an overworked and very professional nurse fleeing her body the moment Luke leads Matt to the couch. She seems to have done this before, instantly putting Matt’s hand out towards her wrist so he can feel her pulse. Once sure he’s identified her both as a friend and well- as Claire, she begins examining his head.
Jessica hangs at her kitchen island, glancing around the apartment with apparent boredom before her eyes betray her and slink back to the couch, watching Claire tilt Matt’s head in various directions. She huffs, reaching into her pocket for her flask. She catches a sideways glance of disapproval from Danny and promptly flips him the bird. He’s all nervous energy, all but ready to pounce in to assist in healing Matt however he can. He’s perched up on a chair like a gargoyle- actually no, he looks more like a squirrel. Yeah. Jessica takes a swig from the flask.
Luke is trying just as hard as Jessica to hide any nervous energy. His fists clench nervously upon the wooden chair he sits in, watching from the small kitchen table adjacent to the open living room. The pressure helps release the mutual feeling of uselessness as the choking silence overwhelms them both.
Finally, Claire stands, sighing. “He’s got a concussion for sure, though I would wager his hearing loss is a result of the blast you said he faced, not from hitting his head. I don’t feel safe sending him home right now, especially since you said he lost it a bit at the slightest touch. Which— isn’t a medical concern but— you know.” She hums, frowning at Matt. He’s leaned into the couch, though he doesn’t close his eyes. His posture is definitely less rigid but the semblance of caution hangs on him like a thick coat. Claire claps her hands together gently, grimacing with sarcasm. “Now, you three. Any injuries?”
Luke shrugs, shaking his head curtly. Danny perks at the call to attention, fervently extending his arms to check for any lacerations before giving a thumbs up and an “All good.” Jessica snorts, rolling her eyes in Murdocks direction.
“He pushed me on my ass but the only thing that’s wounded there is my pride.”
This earns her a chuckle from the nurse, who shakes her head. Claire’s expression sobers quickly however. “It’s always him huh.”
“Reckless asshole.” Jessica agrees, raising her flask as if to say cheers.
Danny frowns suddenly, slinking over to Matt. He’s careful to warn the man of his presence, watching as the moment he sits down, the blind vigilante instantly curls into his presence. “It’s a pattern,” The Ironfist notes.
“What do you mean?” Luke inquires, raising a brow and shifting forward on his seat, leaning his forearms onto the table.
“He did the same thing at Midland.” Danny states quietly.
The relieved warmth which had settled over the group instantly freezes over with apprehension.
“What do you mean?” Claire frowns. “His purebred catholic savior complex turning up at every corner?” She remarks dryly.
“Mm, he took a hit he easily could have just deflected. That thing hit him square on. And I mean sure— maybe his senses caught on to it too late but Midland Circle? He would have made it up.” Danny meekly notes.
Jessica pulls her elbow off the island, her brow furrowed as she examines The Devil of Hell's Kitchen. “I haven’t really talked to him much since then, beyond y’know, finding out he was alive, and a few patrols like this one.” She started, pausing as though putting something together in her mind. “He seemed better than he did when we last saw him in that hole- hell even in the police station actually. But, he's got this look about him now. Sort of- haunted. It's his business but I recognized it under his cheerful- do gooder fuckin- charming lawyer shit.”
“What are you trying to say?” Luke says slowly.
“I think he tried to kill himself in that hole.” She says, her voice gravelly with intent. Luke inhales a sharp breath through his nose but doesn't say anything, his brow furrowing in thought. Danny bites his tongue, his grip on Matt tightening as his thoughts are seemingly confirmed.
Matt sits up suddenly, frowning and tightening his own grip on Danny’s wrist. He makes a startled noise. “Shoot,” Danny exhales. “It's alright Matt, just worried about you.” He placates uselessly, trying to pry the increasingly uncomfortable hold Matt has on his arm. Matt only holds onto it tighter, his brow furrowed as his absent gaze bores holes into the left of Danny’s face.
“Danny, he's out of it, he can probably tell you're nervous. Chill out.” Jessica snaps. Danny in turn gives her an exasperated look, clinging closer to Matt in an attempt to quell his protective delirium. “Jesus, even while he’s spaced he's thinking about everyone but himself.” He still looks confused and nervous, his lips parting and closing as though considering whether he should speak.
Danny seems to catch on and begins to write with his free hand upon Matt’s shoulder. “O-K?” Matt hums, his brow furrowing further in frustration. “Jessica, ‘is she ok?” He slurs gently, the consonances lulling together. She bites her lip, damn you Murdock.
Jessica sighs, motioning for the pair to scoot down on the couch. She sits on Matt’s left side, grabbing him directly by the hand and planting his hand over her wrist. “I'm fine, jackass.” She huffs. Matt takes a minute to recognize her but lets out a content hum. Luke snorts from his place at the table.
“Get in here Cage, if I'm getting touchy feely you are too, come on.” Jessica pats the couch with a sarcastic grin on her face. Luke huffs out a laugh, smiling despite himself with a mild eye roll. He slots himself next to Danny, making a noise of amusement as the smaller man squeaks at the weight shift on the couch. Matt perks his head but turns his attention back towards Jessica.
An amused chuckle pulls itself from Claire as she walks out of the living room. “You three can stay if you like. I am gonna catch some shut eye because I have an early shift. If he falls asleep make sure to wake him periodically and check to see if- well if he's able to hear again, as well as slurring his speech when he talks, if he's confused even after you identify yourself, if he's got poor motor skills.” She lists off quickly, getting a slow nod from Luke. She slinks into the bedroom, shutting the door behind her.
And the four of them are sitting there. On the couch. Matt eventually does fall asleep, curled in between his companions. It’s endearing honestly, seeing as even Jess has her tough love affections, yet Matt is nearly always closed off. That’s- probably because he’s been “dead” for several months but, you do what you can. As the night presses on and the gentle lull of the city at night shifts into the early working hours, Matt opens his eyes.
He blinks twice, aware of the pressure against his nostrils from the slight clogged nose from the cold harbor air- ah and probably being smacked straight in the face with a projectile. Yes. Matt takes a deep breath, flexing his fingers and feeling the ache of nerves returning from the lull of numbness. His fingers, his face, they feel normal again. He grunts, pulling himself up a bit under the pile of familiar bodies. Wait-
Matt furrows his brow and lets out another grunt, more forceful this time. His brow evens slowly and an uncertain smile spreads on his face. He pulls his arm from under Danny’s, which is all but latched to him like a koala on a eucalyptus tree. Matt snaps his finger. Once, then twice, then in a great recession. It rings out each time like a drum, he can hear it. Matt suddenly lets out a burst of near hysterical laughter, snatching his arm up and thus shoving his shoulder into Jessica’s side as he moves the limb forward. He snaps between both fingers, creating a rapid and incoherent rhythm for himself.
A grumble of discontent sounds from his left. Matt tilts his head gently in its direction, taking in the familiar heartbeat. “Morning Jessica.” He drones carefully.
“Murdock.” She replies with a grunt. “Welcome back.” Is all she says, peeling herself off the couch and slinking into the kitchen. Matt lets out a groggy chuckle, sighing in relief. His world on fire was no longer extinguished. He was home.
A snoring which was quickly cut off as though the snorer had bit his tongue in his sleep turned the man’s vacant gaze. Danny pulsed to life, his heartbeat vibrantly kickstarting into a new rhythm as he pulled himself out of REM with quick succession. He jutted an elbow directly into his companion to his right, earning a sleepy grunt of discontent from Luke. Danny threw his arms up and stretched with the likeness of a cat. Matt could hear the coils of his curled blonde hair bob as he moved, bringing a slight smile to his face. “Hey, Danny, Luke.” Matt greeted coyly.
“God my neck is stiff- Morning, Murdock.” Luke hissed, turning his head to release the tension built up from sleeping and sat on the couch for the night with four other people. “Sweet Christmas-” He exclaimed as an afterthought, his head whirring towards Matt. “You're all good?”
“90% there,” Matt said with a nod. “But I can hear for the most part, yes, and my senses are mostly consistent.”
Danny all but beamed at him. “That’s great Matt! Dude we were worried sick, you were like a rabid cat, it was wild.” He crowed delightfully, falling back into his slot on the couch as Luke pulled himself up and towards the kitchen where Jones resided. “I mean- I am still definitely worried- especially since you're concussed-, but glad to hear you're back Matty.”
Matt let out a surprised cackle. “Wh- since when am I Matty, Rand. We aren't that intimate.” He teases warmly, an easy smile breaking out on his face. Within the kitchen, Jessica snorted as she started up the coffee machine.
They were by no means going to ransack Claire’s kitchen, especially not while she was out, but coffee wouldn't hurt. Luke grabbed four cups from the cupboard, a smirk pulling at his face despite himself. “You're really all good then, Murdock?” he quipped, tilting his head towards the pair on the couch despite knowing Matt could hear him regardless.
“Mm, yeah for the most part. There's a uh, a dull ringing. Whatever that thing was, it was alien to me– metallic, powerful. Still can't feel around my face, and there's some pressure behind my eyes I assume was intended to blind. ” He mused, arching forward and contemplating the weapon which had struck him prone. The aroma of cheap coffee swirled within his nose as he heard Jones pour out four cups worth of coffee, swiftly reaching for her flask and just dumping what little remained in the container into her morning joe.
“We can worry about the details of that later, hornhead. We need to have a different talk first.” Jessica said, making her way to the table with two mugs in her hand. Danny seemed to wince, rising but making some sort of silent sharing of expressions with Jessica which Matt could not perceive. The Immortal Ironfist slid into the seat across from Jessica, accepting the coffee which was passed in his direction. Though with caution, Matt elected to sit on his left, across from the seat which Luke was making his way towards, likewise to Jessica, with two cups of coffee in hand.
The Devil of Hell's Kitchen pursed his lips, clenching a fist under the table to release his nerves. “Alright,” He conceded, understanding where this might be going. “But can we table it till after we've finished this coffee? It's been a long night.” He quips with a gentle smile, unsure if it is welcome.
“You were mentally conked out for most of last night, so shush.” Jessica huffs, taking a decent swig from her mug.
“You know it's just because we worry,” Danny claims, trading what Matt can assume to be a sidelong glance with one of them across the table.
“Yeah, you gave us all one hell of a scare last night, which fits with the devil theme but, maybe lay off.” Luke jokes lightly.
Matt clenches and unclenches his jaw, releasing a deep exhale. “Yeah. I get it, I do, and I am sorry about that. I wasn't thinking, got distracted and felt the device go off at the last minute. It was a stupid mistake.” He explains with a grimace.
“If only that were the case.” Jessica remarks dryly, a tinge of annoyance lacing her tone. “Let's table this though, Horns is right I can’t stage an intervention just yet.” She grumbles, inciting a collective sense of amusement. Matt closed his eyes needlessly, just taking in the company before him. He was fine, and they'd be fine, in the end. That was for sure. After all, that was all that really mattered.