Of things and voices
They keep in contact.
Matt writes to Frank. Asking for a favor with some files he has to fotocopy. Frank comes and helps. Then they drink some cheap beers and part ways.
Frank writes to Matt. Asking him if he knows any Spanish. He helps him translate what his Latin neighbor was trying to tell him.
They do little favors to each other. Small things so they keep in touch. They keep this rhythm for weeks. A month comes and goes.
Today Matt is the one writing Frank.
-hey frank -
-Hey-
-Yeah?-
-What is it?-
-Is the printer giving you trouble?-
-No. It's not that. -
-It's about Karen. -
There is radio silence for a while.
He starts to think he overstepped when a message comes in.
-Tell me.-
-What is it Matt?-
-I want to go to her place. -
-To pick somethings up. -
-I don't think I can go alone. -
-Ill be there. -
-When? -
He is glad that he invited him for that drink.
-Today, maybe. -
-Around midday?-
-Ill be in that one coffee shop -
-ok then-
-See ya there, sunshine-
His phone stops narrating. He can almost see his own blush.
Fuck Frank and his casual flirting. It always takes him by surprise.
At least in person he can hear the other's heartbeat pick up before talking. He can at least hear the comment coming.
In text he can never predict this man.
He finishes some statements. Already prepared for court in two days. It is a relatively simple case. So he is going for the win.
This case reminds him of Ms Cardenas case. He wants to honor her memory. He wants to do what he wasn't able to do for her.
He stands up and picks his cane, coat and keys.
It takes him around fifteen minutes to arrive at the cafe. Frank isn't there yet. So he orders a coffee and waits.
Frank is nice. Easy to be around with. Jokes come like second nature with him. He knows he is there to support him. To support Murdock and Daredevil. Even if the other man doesn't know they are the same person.
He plans to tell Frank someday. Bruises and cuts are hard to explain when you are a blind pro-bono lawyer. Frank has yet to ask, but he will. Just like everyone else.
He ho-knows Frank will understand.
He is just finishing his coffee when Frank arrives. His heartbeat and breathing is steady. He smells of guns and Max, his dog. And maybe like concrete. Even when working as a construction worker, the smell doesn't stick.
He smiles at Frank's direction.
He's glad he came.
They talk for a while in the cafe. Ignoring the original reason for this meeting
Then Frank begins to stand up. So Matt follows him. For a while he walks with the cane. Then he switches to Frank's elbow.
Some habits die hard.
They enter her house. If Matt focuses he can still smell her shampoo and her last breakfast. Fried egg and toast with strawberry jelly. There are clothes thrown around. Her laundry is drying around the back with a window wide open. Her bed is badly done. There are dirty plates in the sink.
The house also smells like dust. It clogs under his nose.
Frank's heartbeat picks up. His hand curled into a fist.
This is going to be a long afternoon.
He goes through her clothes while Frank goes through her kitchen.
He folds her clothes letting Frank's heartbeat distract him. He loses himself in the other's breathing while he organizes her clothing into piles.
They go around the house picking things and organizing them. They throw away any damaged food. Matt leaves her clothing all over the bed in neat piles. (Frank doesn't mention how Matt takes one of the scarfs with him). Frank organized her books and notebooks on her desk. (Matt doesn't mention the sound of pages being pushed inside pockets.)
He takes some files Karen kept at her house. Including Fisks old case files.
Once they are done this is no longer Karen's house.
They walk out with pieces of Karen with them. With dust clinging to their clothes.
They are close to Josie's so they go there.
Matt can tell there is something weighing on Frank. God knows there is something weighing him down.
Going through Karen's stuff helped. It hurt but helped. It was admitting that she wasn't coming back.
(He has to do the same with Foggy's stuff.)
(He doesn't know if he can).
Frank pulls him out of his thoughts.
"I'll get some boxes for her stuff. I know some places that would receive donations."
"I'll go with you."
"Don't you have court coming?"
"Yes bu-"
"No, Matt. I'll take care of this. You go and make sure that woman gets justice."
Matt knows this is personal so he leaves it alone. He owes Frank so much.
"You owe me nothing Matt."
He turn his head towards Frank. Apparently the other man can read minds.
"Karen was my friend too. You have done enough."
It isn't rough. It's just far kinder than what Matt is used to.
But Frank is always like that with him.
"Thanks Frank."
Frank's heartbeat skips a beat there and Matt can barely contain a laugh.
"Don't mention it, Murdock."
God this man is amazing. No wonder Karen had a fascination for him.
They ask for another round and close the tab. They have to rest after all.
They stay in silence for a while. They enjoy each other's company. Matt doubts Frank would do this if he didn't.
Matt's favorite part of talking with Frank is hearing about his neighbors.
"Gabriela always has problems with her plumbing. I've been there, to fix the same pipe, more times than I can count."
"Sounds like you got a fan."
"As if. That girl got a boyfriend. Those lovebirds are inseparable."
"So you thought of it."
"Never. Not even once."
"Got someone else in mind?"
There is a slight upbeat in his heartbeat. His temperature doesn't change. Neither does his breathing. But there was something there.
So there is someone.
He doesn't know what to think. But his heartbeat skips a beat. His hands play with the bottle.
"Nah Matt. There's no one."
Lie.
His stomach twists.
Because Matt often forgets Frank lost his wife and kids. How he was probably still grieving.
He's building a life outside of the Punisher. He deserves that privacy. Frank probably doesn't want Matt of all people meddling in his romantic life.
It matters, not because he wants something. But because he ignored Frank's boundaries. Because he overstepped. Because he was stupid enough to ask.
He hums. He plays with the bottle.
Both of them finish their bottles and go their separate ways.
When Daredevil goes out that night he gets hit a lot more. Somehow his mind is somewhere else.
He doesn't admit that he knows where his mind is gravitating to.
Criminals get a few punches on him before he knocks them out. One actually manages to cut him. He hits hard enough to break some ribs. Another hits him in the back with a bat. He kicks this man in the face so hard he hears something break.
He feels the pain to his very bones.
Look at yourself. Surrounded by soft things.
'Fuck off Stick.'
One day, you'll wake up to those covers choking you.
'Shut the fuck up.'
He finds a roof and sits on the ledge. Trying to hear the city. Somehow Stick's voice is stronger.
Connections will destroy you, kid. That connection with the Punisher will be your downfall.
'Leave him out of this.'
You know I'm telling the truth.
'You are dead. You and your cult mean nothing. I am not your student. I am not your soldier.'
(Maybe he was slightly tipsy when he fought those guys earlier. Maybe he's lost a bit of blood.)
He can probably meditate this off.
He positions himself and starts controlling his breathing. He slows down his thoughts and feelings. He feels his body. He deepens his focus. Inwards. Then he stays there. His senses zone in. It's a slow process. The alcohol in his system blurred his hearing. But he is doing better than what most people can say.
That is until Foggy decides to interrupt.
Amazing friend you are. Asking questions no one wanted.
'Be quiet.'
The body controls the mind. No. It wasn't like this.
The mind controls the body.
(Fuck he is tired.)
Frank probably doesn't want to be there. He does it out of pity.
'He is Frank. He does nothing out of pity.'
You are a pity case, Matty. Always been. And will always be.
'Shut up.'
Can't even save Elektra, or Stick, or Ben. You can't even stop being Daredevil.
'It's a part of me, Fogs. I can't stop.'
More like you don't want it to stop.
'You try to hear everything happening in this city. YOU try hearing the crimes happening. I dare you to NOT do anything."
He is tired and Foggy isn't helping. (This isn't Foggy. This is his body? Mind? This is probably blood loss.)
He doesn't even realize that he says it out loud.
"Hey Red."
He jumps out of his skin. Frank?
When did he even arrive?
(Tired doesn't cover it. He is exhausted. Drained.)
"Hey Red. Red."
He nods in Frank's direction. Yeah he was listening.
"Who you talking to?"
"No one, Frank.
"Could've fooled me."
Liar. The only thing you do is lie to the people who care for you. This is why I left. This is why no one ever sta-
"Shut up."
"Excuse me?"
"No, no. Not you."
"Then who?"
He decides to ignore that.
"How are you doing Frank?"
"You got hit in the face."
"What?"
"Why else are you like this, huh?"
"..."
"Are you drunk?"
"... Maybe."
"Are you bleeding?"
"...Maybe."
"Show me."
"Huh?"
He takes a step back. The actual fuck?
"The fuck Castle?"
"You want to die from blood loss? Come over here. Let me take a look."
He stays in place. Confused out of his mind.
(At least he can't hear those stupid hallucinations anymore.)
Frank takes a step toward him and Matt remembers that he is Daredevil.
"Do not."
"Fuck you, Red. I need to take a look. That cut looks bad."
"I have it under control."
"Oh, so you can control when your body bleeds with your mind."
"..."
"You are fucking with me right?"
"..."
Frank closes the distance in a second and Matt reacts a second too late.
"It is nasty. No wonder you are acting this way."
Frank pauses and continues.
"Your breath also smells like beer. You think fighting crime wasted does New York any good?"
"I-
"No. Shut up. I won't take any more bullshit."
Then he takes Matt and shives him over his shoulder. Like a sack of potatoes. He doesn't even have the energy to protest. He tries to meditate on the way there but the pain keeps him grounded.
He doesn't stay quiet. No. He lets his discomfort show. Very frequently.
"Red. You are going to wake all of New York."
"Yo- ugh are not the one injure-ugh".
"I'm not the one running around in pajamas."
"Still have-ugh haven't found a replacement."
Frank doesn't answer. Or maybe he does. He doesn't remember. What he does remember is waking up to Frank stitching him up.
"Where?"
"One of my safe houses. Now, stay down. I'm not redoing those."
Frank stands up and leaves the room.
There is a window open. The wind gives him a better "view". There are at least 3 rooms. One is a bathroom, just to the right. It smells heavily of shampoo and toothpaste. There is a drop falling from the sink. He should be in the bedroom. Frank's smell gathers around this room. He definitely spends most of his time here. The other room is a small kitchen. He can hear Frank rusting in the kitchen. His clothes move as he stores his first aid kit inside a cabinet to the right of a clock. He can practically smell the guns hidden all around the safe house. In the closet. Under the bed. In Franks belt.
He still has the blindfold on.
Matt has a massive headache. Probably from a hangover. He hadn't even noticed he was tipsy when he put on the suit. Though that explains why he was less focused.
Frank comes back with water and something small in his hand.
"Drink this."
Frank hands him a pill. Painkillers.
"Painkillers tamper with the natural process of the body."
"I'll shove it down your throat if you don't take it."
Matt takes it.
They stay in silence for a while. Then Frank stands up.
"Look, you can go when you want. It 's 2:00 am so you can sleep here. But I'mma go to sleep. If you need anything, take it. You owe me nothing. And Red."
He tilts his head.
"Take one of my vests. They are better than the shit you are wearing."
Ok then.
This is his life now.
Frank walks away. Probably to a fourth room he didn't detect. Which weird. But he'll blame the anesthesia.
Anesthesia fucks his senses.
He lays down and lets his dulled senses zone out.
He falls asleep