Things Aren't Black and White
Matt
Matt could hear the thwip of Spider-Man's webs from behind him, the fluid landing on solid structures with a wet splat. He could hear the muscles in Spider-Man’s body strain as he propels himself forward, the webs creaking as he swung. His heartbeat was steady, strong, and clearly enhanced. It was also fast, hammering in Matt’s ears like hummingbird wings.
It was unlike any other heartbeat he had ever heard before.
“So, Mr. Daredevil, sir, where are we going?” Spider-Man asks, finally caught up with Matt.
“I said you can ask questions later, now be quiet,” Matt replies, stopping in the middle of a roof. Spider-Man drops down next to him, his feet landing on the roof so quietly that had Matt’s ears not been enhanced he surely wouldn’t have heard it. The two men creep over to the edge of the roof, crouching down. Matt angles his head to hear what is going on in the alley. Spider-Man watches him, angling his head as well.
Three men were in the alley below, leaning against various walls, smoking cigarettes. The noxious smell of the smoke was choking Matt up, and he had to move his hand over his nose and mouth to avoid coughing. Spider-Man either didn’t notice or just chose to ignore it.
The three men were seemingly innocent, and Matt would have avoided them completely if he hadn’t heard what they were talking about.
“So, we’re finally gonna do it?” One man asks, dropping his cigarette and crushing it with his foot. Matt could hear the fizzle of the cigarette butt dying under the worn rubber of the man's shoes.
“We’ve been planning it for eleven years, of course, we’re going to do this.” Another man says.
“I’m surprised he hasn’t gotten out yet.” The first man retorts.
“He doesn’t have the suit, he can’t do anything without it.” A third man says. The two other men look over at him.
“Be careful what you say about him, or else Spider-Man isn’t going to be the only person he goes after when he’s out.”
Matt can hear the muscles in Spider-Man's body tighten, and his eyebrows furrowing, the fine hair rubbing against the spandex of his mask.
“Alright, so, we bust him out, get him the suit, and he’ll pay us?” Spider-Man moves to stand but Matt puts a hand on his knee, stopping him. One of the men nods and the other two flick their cigarette butts away, not bothering to put them out.
“Alright, tomorrow, you know where.”
The men disperse.
Matt and Spider-Man crouch in silence for a few moments more. A muscle in Matt’s thigh twinges and he slowly stands, his bones creaking. He suppresses a groan.
“Why didn’t you let me stop them?” Spider-Man asks angrily. “Someone is coming after me, and you didn’t let me get them?!” Matt shakes his head.
“No one is going to get you. I didn’t let you stop them because, realistically, they’re not going to be able to break someone out of a prison.”
“I’ve put a lot of guys away, and a lot of them want to get out and get their revenge, you’d be surprised how easily people get out of prison.” There is a slight bit of worry in his voice, and Matt can hear the cadence of his heartbeat shift the slightest bit for a moment, sounding drastically different from the strong beats he had been tuning into earlier.
Matt isn’t surprised by how easy people get out of prison. He’d been dealing with Fisk for years.
“What do they mean by the suit?” Matt asks, trying to get more information while also trying to distract Spider-Man from being worried about someone coming after him.
“I’m not sure, I mean I put away Adrian Toomes…” he trails off for a moment, counting off numbers on his fingers. “Yeah, like eleven years ago and he had this crazy mechanical vulture suit that he used to fight me.” Spider-Man’s heart beats faster, fluttering anxiously, sounding eerily similar to the weaker, stressed, heartbeat of Matt’s neighbor.
“Oh god, he almost killed me with the vulture wings the last time I was wearing a basic Spider Suit, he’s totally going to come after me.” His breath was coming short and Matt was starting to worry.
“Hey, Spider-Man, he’s not going to get you, okay?” Spider-Man nods, rubbing his chest. “I’m not going to let him get you. Do you have people that can help protect you if he comes after you?”
“Um… Yes.”
Lie.
“Do you really?”
Spider-Man throws his arms up, frustrated.
“I don’t need people to protect me, I’m Spider-Man, I do the protecting.”
“I’m not going to kick you out of Hell’s Kitchen,” Matt says, deciding to change the subject.
“Hmm?”
“Patrolling, or whatever you call it. You can continue to work in Hell’s Kitchen, that way it’s easier for me to help you if or when this person comes after you. I’ll try to find out more, and you should as well, but for now you are welcome to patrol in Hell’s Kitchen.”
Spider-Man’s heartbeat returns back to its normal pace. Matt is pleased that changing the subject worked to calm down Spider-Man.
“Once we fix everything with this guy coming after you, we can talk again about territory.” Spider-Man nods and sticks out his hand.
“What is this for?”
“Shake on it. Plus, you didn’t shake my hand earlier.” Matt sighs and extends a hand. Spider-Man’s grip is iron-strong, and Matt can feel the thick raised calluses on his hands through both of their gloves.
“I look forward to working with you, Daredevil”. Matt could hear his mouth quirk into a shy smile and feels a small pit form in his stomach at the thought of anyone coming after him.
No one was going to come after him, he had no reason to worry.