An Emergency
Clint received a text from Matt five days after parting ways with him. It simply read ‘Positive – going to keep’. He tried calling, but it simply went through to voicemail. Over the holiday period, Clint returned to the farm and told Laura everything. He asked her what to do, and Laura simply told him to give Matt his space and let him process the situation.
After all, this entire thing is much easier for Clint.
He’s now back at Stark Tower, sat in an armchair in the communal lounge, when an alert pops up in the group chat. It’s something all Avengers have access to and is heavily encrypted so that only those given explicit access by Tony are able to get onto it.
After the ordeal with Dr Marsh, Clint insisted that Matt be added to it. Tony was confused at first, citing that Daredevil was not an official Avenger, however Clint quickly put him in his place. In the month since being added, Matt has said nothing to the rest of the group, but Clint understands that Daredevil works alone and is not much of team player, despite his polyamorous entanglements in his personal life. He at first thought it was an accessibility issue, with Matt being blind, however Tony assured Clint that he had added features for the blind as soon as he knew of Matt’s identity.
Clint taps on the message and opens up the app, hoping to see another picture of Peter posing with a thug he’s just beaten up, but there is a simple, two-word message from Daredevil.
Need help~ DD
“Goddamn it,” Clint says to the empty room, hauling himself up.
He immediately starts typing a response, but Nat beats him to it.
Where? ~ BW
It takes some time for Matt to respond. Clint’s heart is thumping in his chest, and he wants to run as fast as he can to get to Matt, but he can’t do anything until he knows where he’s going.
Black Hat ~ DD
A bar? Matt is at a bar? Pregnant Matt is at a bar?
Clint grabs his coat and hurries towards the elevator. When it opens up, he’s greeted by Natasha, who is half dressed and slipping into a sparkling black dress.
“You’re getting dressed up?” he asks her, confused.
“I don’t know what I’m walking into,” Nat responds, leaning down to buckle one of her red heels. “This is a bar. I’m assuming Matt is dressed as Matt, and not Daredevil, unless there’s a fancy dress theme this evening.”
Clint doesn’t respond, so Nat waves her hand in front of him and signs, “Are your aids broken?”
“No, I’m just thinking,” he responds, trying to keep calm. Clint has absolutely no idea what is going on with Matt, why he’s at a bar, and why he is asking for help from the Avengers. Everything is just piling up and adding to the stress of the situation.
“You and Matt really got close during your time at the hospital,” Nat says. It isn’t a question for him, just an observation, but he nods anyway. The doors to the elevator open into the underground parking garage, and they’re hurrying to the nearest vehicle.
Nat takes the driver’s side, a more confident driver, and Clint is secretly pleased because he doesn’t want his worry to cloud his reaction times. She gives one last look to herself in the rear-view mirror, using her thumb to correct a smudged portion of lipstick, and then she’s pressing her foot on the accelerator and speeding out of the complex. There’s barely enough time for the barriers to raise before the car races onto the busy New-York street.
It takes them fifteen minutes to get to the bar. It’s in Hell’s Kitchen, and is a rather seedy looking establishment. Clint can smell cannabis from inside of the car, and he wonders how Matt’s super-senses are coping in such an environment. Natasha ditches the car in an alleyway nearby and they both head towards the bar. The neon sign outside is boasting cheep beers, and the noise levels from the street suggest that the patrons have consumed many.
“Matt, we’re here,” Clint says. They’re standing by a streetlamp, and Nat is busy pretending to fix the buckle on her shoe to avoid suspicion.
“Honey, I told you I was going to break these shoes tonight!” Natasha says in a thick Brooklyn accent, leaning against Clint while she hobbles on one foot. “I’ll have to call an Uber.”
“Why don’t we wait in here? I’m sure you can walk that far,” replies Clint, taking her hand in his.
She rolls her eyes. “If you insist.”
Clint walks to the front of the bar and pushes open the door. Immediately the smell of beer, cigarettes and sweat overpowers him, and he finds himself blinking back tears from the sensory onslaught of it all. He finds Matt instantaneously.
He’s sat at the bar, a hand holding onto his cane and the other hand around a beer. His signature red glasses stand out against the light in the bar, and he’s sat cuddled up a beautiful brunette.
“Clint,” Matt says before Clint has even managed to say hello. “Nat. Sorry for the worrying message.”
“Sorry for the worrying message?” Clint repeats, blinking slowly at the blind man. “I was worried sick!”
“Apologies,” the brunette says, and Clint notices her hand resting on Matt’s shoulder. “I took Matthew’s phone because I wanted the help of the Avengers. He has nothing to do with this, and in fact had no idea I had done such a thing until he heard you two outside.”
“Who the hell are you?” Natasha asks the mysterious woman, stepping up so she is mere inches from her.
The woman smiles and extends her slender hand. “Elektra.”