Akumas & Yōkai

Four years later

When Matt looked back on his college years, he could safely say that there were no incidents or problems that would suggest that the world was ending tomorrow. However, it didn’t mean that he didn’t feel that way every day for the last four years. When Elektra walked out of his life the second time, she never came back. It was as if she had never been there.

Foggy asked about her, of course, but when they stopped receiving party invitations the rest of their Freshmen year, it was pretty obvious what happened. 

When pressed, Matt lied. It’s what he did. He, at his very core, was a liar. Pure and simple. 

“Something happened back home, and she had to go back.”

Maybe there was some truth to that sentiment, but he never dwelled on it for long.

That night, he didn’t return to the O’Neil’s for a party. Instead, the Devil had truly awoken in him. He stopped three muggings, a potential kidnapping, and saved an actual cat from a tree. Matt, over all, felt sorry for himself. Maybe there had been a better way of handling things with Elektra, to pull her from under Stick’s control, but instead he had just stood there.

She hadn’t been entirely wrong, he had wanted to kill Roscoe. The feeling of Roscoe’s nose breaking under his fists wasn’t enough, he wanted to feel the life slip out from under him. Wanted to hear his heart beat come to a slow stop, like Jack’s did.

But then he thought of the last time he saw this monster of a man, and how Raph had held onto him like a life vest, keeping Matt from slipping under. Raph was the biggest out of all of them, always has been, and yet he never let his anger control him. He could. But he never did.

And so Matt went against the natural man and rose above it, not because he wanted to, but because he had to.

When Matt finally emerged back home, Devil suit in tow, he hugged his brothers. Holding them close as if letting go would cause them to slip away. He told them about his night, careful not to reveal anything about the attempted murder. They didn’t need that darkness.

Matt thought about his family that he would not have if Roscoe hadn’t taken Jack away from him. And, yes, maybe it was gruesome of him to even suggest, but in some ways he was thankful for him. Like he was thankful for that ooze that blinded him.

He’d probably be happier with Jack, but maybe not. Some other Matt could figure that out.

So, Matt let Elektra walk out of his life again.

With her gone, there were no more talks of war and the ‘Hamato Clan’. Which he didn’t at all miss.

The rest of college was uneventful, minus the new-found love for vigilante work.

When Matt showed up at Claire’s, she mocked him. 

“This isn’t what I meant, Mike,” she told him, grabbing onto his horns. “The Devil, really?”

“Like the Bible,” he winked, which held no effect due to the lenses that covered his eyes, but the sentiment remained.

Luke had been nicer.

“Yellow looks good on guys like us.”

Jessica had told him he looked like an asshole, but it sounded endearing, so he took it as a win.

Patrolling wasn’t as frequent as Matt would have liked, but he understood the need for balance, especially as he entered into the Law program. Foggy and he had found a small studio apartment at the beginning of junior year, and that changed a lot.

Now, instead of waiting for Foggy to spend the night at Marci’s, his off-again-on-again-girlfriend, or for her to stay at their dorm to go out patrolling, he just had to climb out of the window. It was nice having his own room again, and he was glad he had his radar hearing to keep tabs on Foggy. A part of him missed having him just across the small dorm room, though. There was something intimate about trusting another person to see into your life like that, even if it was just a bedroom.

During their Senior year, while interning at a big corporate law firm called Landman and Zach, they both decided that they didn’t care about the money.

“I think,” Foggy said while they sat in a dive bar that they considered a second home. Josie was nice, and gave them free drinks when they beat old drunks at pool. “We should really consider a different profession.”

“Really?” Matt had laughed, squeezing the man’s arm. Matt was twenty-one now, meaning that if he got drunk, his Catholic guilt wouldn’t automatically kick in. Instead, he only got hungover. He still wasn’t sure which he preferred.

“I don’t want to end up like Landmine and Yikes.”

“What? Rich and famous? A waitlist of corporations just wishing to be in the same room with you?”

“Exactly!” Foggy erupted, using his arms to gesture wildly. “Who wants to be rich when you can be local.”

“Local?” Matt shook his head and moved away from Foggy to relocate his water. “I think I may be too drunk for this conversation. You’re not making any sense.”

Foggy, instead of offering an aspirin like a real friend, laughed at his pain like a best friend would. “Lightweight,” he said as an insult. “Do you get the spins? Can you get those if you can’t see?”

Matt drank his water slowly, trying to keep himself from throwing up at Foggy’s question.

“Yes, I get the spins.” When Foggy threw him a confused look, Matt waved a hand his way, “It’s an equilibrium thing, it’s not your eyes. Liquid in your inner ear gets disturbed, has trouble leveling off…or something. Never mind, ignore me.”

Foggy reached forward and took his hand in his own, “no, no, Matty, I love when you speak nerdy to me. Humbles me. I just thought you might get a pass on that one.”

Matt chuckled and bit his lip, “no, it’s even worse for me, I think. Cause my senses are so…”

He trailed off. Foggy, despite knowing him for almost four full years now, had no idea about Matt’s…condition. About the ooze or powers that came with it. Neither him, nor Splinter, knew that he spent countless hours patrolling the night looking for goons to beat up. Sometimes with backup, oftentimes not. It felt bad lying to his best friend, but he couldn’t figure out an alternative. It had been going on for so long now, that telling Foggy would only result in feelings being hurt, and Matt couldn’t risk that.

“Delicate?” Foggy suggested.

Matt nodded, a headache slowly coming on. 

“Well, that sucks, dude.”

“Don’t worry about it. Now, what were you saying about being poor and broke?”

Foggy gave him a slight shove, and Matt had to pull his hand away from Foggy’s to grab the bar so as to not topple off of his stool. 

“Dork. I said local. Don’t you want to be El grande… oh, what’s lawyers in Spanish?”

“Abogados,” he said, his voice dropping into a low husky tone as he did, causing the word to sound sexier than he intended.

Foggy didn’t seem to mind because he extended his arms and repeated the words loudly. “El grande avocados!”

Matt snorted water out of his nose and Josie shot them a look. “Sorry, Josie!” Foggy apologized, shoving napkins his friend’s way. “What?”

“That’s a fruit,” Matt laughed.

“Veggie at best. Kānūna'tē vakīla if you will.”

“I still can’t believe you passed Punjabi with flying colors, and you never realized Ashla was a lesbian.”

“I did notice,” Foggy corrected, poking at Matt’s arm, “I just needed a tutor. Plus, she knew where the best gay bars and clubs were. Some underground Punjabi gay radar or something.”

“Right,” Matt rolled his eyes, “what was that club I had to pick you up at because you were too drunk to figure out how to get home?”

Foggy placed a hand over his heart, like he was reminiscing over some beloved memory. “The Ritz, my love, how I miss your sticky floors.”

“Josie has those here,” Matt pointed out when the woman’s back was turned. 

“Yeah, well,” Foggy chuckled. “Lawyers.”

“Lawyers.”

“That could be us.”

“That is the plan,” Matt chuckled. “Hence the graduation next month. Your folks coming to that?”

“Oh yeah, everyone is. Nieces and nephews included. Mom promised to be civil with Dad, especially with the toddler. Your family too?”

“And the O’Neils.” A pang shot through Matt. He had wished he could invite Luke, Jessica, and Claire, but they knew him only as Daredevil and Mike. Matt Murdock wasn’t on their radar, even when they invited him to things. He was sure that Claire and Karen were going to get married soon, and if he wanted an invitation, he would have to come clean.

“Let’s be lawyers. You and me. Forget the big corporations. The money and fame. Just think about the people we could help. You and me. Together. Murdock and Nelson, Avocados at Law.”

Matt ducked his head, “Nelson and Murdock sounds better.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah, the eyes are shit, but my hearing is spot on.”

“Okay, okay.” Foggy reached over and grabbed an unused napkin from Matt’s side of the bar and proceeded to scribble something. “Like this.” He pressed the napkin in his hands, but, unfortunately, a napkin was just a napkin to Matt.

“It’s our sign,” Foggy explained. “It says Nelson and Murdock. And we could get an office in Hell’s Kitchen and actually help people instead of sitting on our asses and saving oil rigs or whatever. Just us. You and me, man. Till death does us part.”

Matt blushed, “this sounds like a marriage proposal.”

Foggy moved away from his bar stool and dropped to a knee. “Matthew Middle Name Murdock,” he said in such a serious tone that Matt had to stop himself from giggling. “Will you make me the happiest man in the world and open up a law firm with me?”

Matt squeezed his best friend's hand, laughing until his ribs hurt. “Michael.”

“Huh?”

“My middle name is Michael.”

“Oh, well, Matthew Michael-”

“Shut up, you dork, yes, I’ll open up a law firm with you. Now get up before Josie kicks us out for disorderly misconduct.”

“That, my dear Matthew, would be homophobic and lawerphobic of her. Another round Josie! For me and my partner.”

They kept the plan on the down low, until graduation.

Graduation, itself, was another obstacle.

Throughout the four years Matt was in law school, his brothers only made a few visits. The one that was spontaneous and led to their grounding, and then a few planned ones. Especially after Matt moved to off campus housing.

Splinter only came to drop him off when he was moving out.

It wasn’t that Splinter neglected Matt or his choices in an education, Matt had never once thought that, but it was the want that stopped him. There was something about once being human and turning into a rat that changed a person. Matt would never understand, but he respected his adopted father’s choices.

So coordinating with them when he was supposed to walk was something entirely different.

Carol was sitting with the other professors, so he had given Splinter and the boys strict instructions to stay with Bobby and April, but then Foggy’s mom wanted to sit with them. Splinter was an absolute mess about the whole thing, which Matt would think, given the fact that he was a former movie star, that he would be used to large crowds. But, then again, he was two feet shorter and a mutated rat.

The cherry on top of all of this was the fact that he was graduating with summa cum laude, essentially a gold star pupil, as well as being hand-picked to give the valedictorian speech during graduation. This ensured that he had a seat on the stage next to everyone else who had been chosen.

“Are you nervous, son?” The man next to him asked.

He was a big man, by anyone’s standards. When Matt was younger, he used to point people out to his dad as they walked around town and asked if Jack Murdock could take them in the ring. Matt was sure, without having to ask, that this man would kill anyone who went toe to toe with him.

The graduate, however, had better manners than that and flashed the man a kind smile. “Not at all, sir. The whole ‘being blind’ thing does help eliminate most of the nervousness that comes from public speaking.”

“And here I was going to give you the advice to picture them all naked,” the man joked.

“Is that your plan, Mr…”

“Fisk,” the older gentleman concluded. “Wilson Fisk. I’m a-”

“Philanthropist who’s working to better New York. You’re working with Whitney Frost now, right?”

Fisk looked taken aback by Matt’s insights before chuckling, “no wonder they chose you to speak. You know plenty about me, that I feel as if you may have the upper hand here.”

There were plenty of reasons why Matt knew so much about the commencement speaker, and none of them were good. 

Wilson Fisk had emerged on the New York scene, practically coming out of nowhere. Matt had commissioned Donnie to look into him, however the paper trail only materialized a year prior. His past had completely been scrubbed from the internet, and there were too many shell companies to truly pinpoint where Wilson Fisk began and ended.

Matt never meant to drag any of his brothers into his vigilante work, but it became quite clear, rather quickly, that none of Matt’s friends were tech-savvy.

Jessica would rather have an old school camera than be caught dead with the latest phone, and Luke only had a flip phone from years ago.

‘If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it,’ was all Luke would say on the subject.

So, if he included Donnie, that meant he also had to include the other three turtles - which now included April. By the end of it all, Leo had come up with a super villain name, Mikey had made a flip book that illustrated Daredevil kicking Fisk’s butt, and Raph had trained with his brother.

It had been a rather productive Saturday.

“Matt Murdock, sir,” he introduced himself.

“Is your family here to support you today, Mr. Murdock?”

While Daredevil had beef with the Kingpin, Matt Murdock did not, and thus, acted accordingly.

“My dad and brothers.”

“Younger or older?”

“Younger. I’m the oldest.”

“They must be very proud of you.”

“They are.”

Fisk hummed, “My father, he was a good man, he was a great man. He never thought it was enough. But then, the city took him. And I realized the world doesn't make sense until you force it to. He is the reason I am doing what I am. I assume the same is for you, Mr. Murdock? Forgive my intrusion, but you are the son of Jack Murdock, are you not?”

Matt did everything not to show his resentment on his face, and instead redirected it to the tapping of his foot underneath his robe. He would not let Wilson Fisk get to him. Even in small talk.

“Did you know my dad?” he asked instead.

“I’ve heard the stories of good men being taken too early. Of course, I also knew about you, Mr. Murdock, and what you did for Ezekiel Chambers. It was all over the news.”

Matt shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal, but the thought of Wilson Fisk knowing him, made his stomach flip over. “I’m sure anyone would have done the same thing, sir.”

Fisk shook his head, “I assure you they would not. You’re something special, Mr. Murdock. If you ever need a job, I’m sure I can find somewhere at my company for you.”

Matt’s fingers twitched. He remembered being recruited before, by men he did not trust. He hated how it had made him feel then, and despised how it made him feel now.

“Thank you for the offer, Mr. Fisk, but I already have a plan for after college. My friend and I are opening up our own firm in Hell’s Kitchen. To better New York.”

Fisk made a noise of approval and praise, and Matt silently cursed how Kingpin knew his career plans before his actual family.

“Do you need funding? I’m sure Miss. Frost and I can find some additional funds to help out. Especially if you’re bringing that same self-sacrificing attitude.”

“Thank you, sir, really, but my father raised me to work towards my goal. Who would I be if I accepted hand outs at every turn? The good people of Hell’s Kitchen would never trust me.” He flashed a smile, attempting to show that there was no malice behind his words.

The smile seemed to do the trick because Fisk laughed. “I should take my seat, but let's chat after, okay?”

Matt nodded, grinding his teeth as he did so.

He needed to ground himself. This was his moment. Matt knew that Fisk would be here, he had made plans to bug him with some of Donnie’s bugs for Christ’s sake. But Wilson Fisk knew him. Was keeping tabs on him for God knows why. No one could just pull names like Ezekiel Chambers out of thin air. For some reason, something about his mundane life intrigued Fisk, just as much as Kingpin’s intrigued Daredevil’s.

There were too many people at this graduation, and the May sun was scorching under all of these layers, but he focused, like Splinter had taught him. It took him a second longer than usual, but he was able to hear them - his family.

Matt smiled softly to himself before he stood up and accepted the arm from his Dean to the podium as the claps began to settle down.

“Thank you for those kind words, President Tracer,” he addressed the college president. “Good afternoon, esteemed faculty, fellow graduates, and family and friends alike. I am Matthew Michael Murdock, your valedictorian speaker today. You must forgive me, I have been distracted lately. As a law student, I often kept up late with questions regarding morality. My poor close friends have had to endure this line of thinking for the past four years, as both my philosophy classes and catholic guilt have driven me to research more. Unlike my poor friends, who are also here today, you can’t ask me to stop once I begin. You can blame the President for that.”

That earned a good laugh from the crowd, and he smiled to himself, hearing the snort Foggy offered from his seat several feet away from Matt.

“I have thought often about right and wrong, good and evil. Sometimes the delineation between the two is a sharp line. Sometimes it’s a blur, and often it’s like pornography -” a pause. “You just know it when you see it. 

“We’re graduating today, and I do not wish to take away from the importance and significance that this day brings, however, these questions are vita; ones because they tether us to each other - to humanity. As a researcher of law, both as a student and an intern, I have had the opportunity to meet people who do feel this way. Who do not see the sharp line, only the blur. For me, I don’t really see much at all, hence the cane.

“In life, however, it is easy to fall into the blur when we begin to dispute facts. Facts have no moral judgement. They merely state what is. Not what we think of them, not what we feel. They just are. As I have studied over these past four years, I have learned this rather important lesson. The questions between good and evil have no place in the court of law - only facts. The world, however, is not a court of law. It is a court of people. People are not subjected to either good or evil, we are what we choose to be.

“The future is and should be bright, but, like our brief four years in these hallowed halls, what makes our lives valuable is that it doesn’t last forever. What makes our lives precious is that one day they will end. When I was a child, I lost my eyesight and my parents. No one would have blamed me if I let the anger fester inside of me and allow these feelings to consume me. However, I was taught by a loving father and four brilliant brothers, that I am what I choose to be. 

“So today, in my last final moments as a student, I would like to leave you all with some well-thought-out advice. Don’t waste your time on feelings of resentment and loss. Don’t waste your life attempting to live someone else’s. Make yours count for you. Fight for what matters to you, no matter the struggle it may bring. Because, even if you end up falling short, what better way is there to live?

“But, of course, it’s easy to say this on such a beautiful day like today. Or, at least that’s what they tell me. But for every sunny day, there are dark days too. On those days, we may feel alone, where we don’t have each other to turn towards and rely on. It’s those days, fellow graduates. Families. Faculty. It’s those days when hope must be on the forefront of your mind. Keep it alive. No matter how buried and lost you may feel, promise yourself this, that you will continue to hold onto hope and keep it alive. We must become greater than what we suffer.

“My wish for you is the same wish I have had for my brothers since I met them. That you become hope, the actual embodiment, and not just a beacon. Because, and I know this from years of experience, people need that. They need you. 

“I know it feels like we’re saying goodbye, but we will carry a piece of each other into everything that we do next, to remind us of who we are, and of who we’re meant to be. I’ve had a great four years with you, and I’ll miss you all very much. May we continue to lead each other through the darkness, and to remind each other, and ourselves, that the sun will continue to rise, even if we can no longer see it. Thank you.”

“Oh my gosh, Matty! That was amazing.” Matt barely had time to brace himself before his youngest brother catapulted at him and wrapped him in a tight embrace. “Did you write that all on your own?”

Matt blushed, patting Mikey’s head, “Oh, you know, I had some inspiration.”

Despite all the worry and the anxiety Matt had felt before giving his speech, and even afterward as he listened to Wilson Fisk drone on regarding his own version of hope and building a better tomorrow, it all seemed to fade away as he drew near to his family.

“Where’s Fog-Man?” Leo questioned, glancing around all other college graduates, as if he’d find him in the sea of red cap and gowns.

“They went to take family pictures before his parents decided they met their quota of being civil,” the twenty two-year-old smiled. “Speaking of which, should we take photos? Who knows, the next time we’ll be all like this together again.”

“I have my camera, locked and ready, Matt,” April announced. “Say cheese pizza!”

And, of course, because they were who they were, each of the brothers said something totally different.

Once their collective parties were done and concluded, Foggy and Matt hit the town on their own, only to stumble home together in a drunken blur. They had gotten their new apartment at a relatively cheap discount, given the fact that it shared a street with a rather bright and obnoxious billboard. Matt had insisted that they could move somewhere else, but no other apartment was in their price range since they would also be paying for the lease of their office.

Foggy had argued with Matt over the whole ordeal, stating that if he could survive life on a farm, he could survive some unwanted light. “That’s what black out curtains are for, Matty.”

Matt fell on the couch first, laughing over how ridiculous the entire day had been, before wincing in pain as Foggy fell on top of him.

“Sorry,” his roommate slurred, not sounding sorry at all. Between the two of them, Foggy had always been the lightweight, but always made sure that they at least made it home safe. “You sounded fantastic today, by the way. Like a real lawyer.”

“Thanks,” Matt smiled, his face heating up, which he was sure was the alcohol. “How are your parents?”

Foggy made a noise that was a mix between annoyed and amused. “Terrible. Dad kept insisting that I should have been giving a speech up there too. It’s not like they choose more than one or anything.”

Matt’s brows furrowed. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, Matt,” he shifted and his knee collided with Matt’s thigh and both men winced. “Sorry,” he apologized again, before moving so that they were both lying on the couch, Foggy’s head next to Matt’s. They would do this sometimes, when they were both too tired or drunk to move to their own rooms. Commander the couch, hoping the other didn’t fall. “It’s not your fault. My dad has always been like this, you know that.” Matt made a noise, and Foggy laughed. His warm breath and cold nose pressed against Matt’s throat. “Not like your family. Your brothers and dad are something else. I’m happy that you guys found each other.”

“Me too,” he strained. 

They fell into a silence, Matt listening to Foggy’s heart beat as they drifted closer to the edge of sleep. “Wilson Fisk offered to help us. Financially, I mean,” Matt finally said, slamming his eyes shut as he did so.

“Oh?” Foggy asked, lifting himself up on an elbow so he was looking down at Matt’s face, his long blonde hair brushing against Matt’s ear. “What did you say?”

“I…” his throat went dry and he shook his head. “I should have said I would consult with you, but…”

“But you don’t want a hand out.”

Matt sighed. “I’m sorry, I should’ve-”

“Stop,” Foggy said, not harshly. “Please, if I wanted big money, I would’ve stayed at the firm. I want to make a difference, Matty, and I know you do too. Did you at least tell him where he could stick it?”

Matt blinked before a small smile took over his face. “I did not. Didn’t think it would look too good to get into a fight with him before my own speech.”

Foggy shrugged, falling back down. “You sounded way better, by the way. Like, he sounded like a robot, but you? Genuine as fuck.” Foggy moved and stood up. Matt reached out and grabbed his wrist to steady him, which made Foggy throw him a look that Matt would never be able to explain even if he could see and was sober. “I’m going to go sleep in my bed, so I can at least be semi decent tomorrow when I take my mom and sisters out to lunch. Do you want help to your room?”

Matt shook his head, reluctantly letting go of his friend.

“Night, Matt.”

“Night, Foggy.”

Matt never remembered drifting off, but he did remember being started awake by five frantic voices.

“...he’s going to kill us!” he heard one voice say.

“He’d never do that,” another replied.

“If we wake up Franklin, he will.”

Matt sat up fast, a headache thumping in his skull, and he had to lean against the back of the couch to stop from wanting to throw up.

“Oh good, he’s awake.”

“What are you guys doing in my house at…?” Matt tried, his voice coming out groggily.

“Two A.M?” April supplied.

Oh, good, Matt thought sarcastically, he had at least gotten an hour of sleep.

“Yes, that.” Despite the hangover, Matt pushed himself off of the couch and moved himself past his brothers and their friend and made his way to the bathroom.

He had just splashed water on his face and was in the middle of brushing his teeth when he turned and looked back at them. “Well?”

They all looked at one other, anxiously, before Raph opened his mouth, and they all began talking over each other. The headache wasn’t helping to filter out their voices for one clear answer, and so he threw his hands out. “Raph?”

The sixteen-year-old shrunk in on himself, and Matt raised a brow. “We may have, accidentally, not entirely on purpose, unleashed thousands of oozesquitos onto New York?”

Matt blinked. Shook his head. Blinked again, before returning to the sink and finishing up. “I’m sorry, you what?”

“Okay, so,” Leo started, pushing his way forward. “Apes and us were cannonballing on roofs, you know, as we do.”

“Of course.”

“Okay, so, as we’re having fun, and then Raph spots a dog-cat like creature, only it’s not that-”

“Oh, Matty, he’s so cute! April’s keeping him and we named him Mayhem. He’s on your balcony now because we didn’t know if Foggy was allergic or not, or if he’d freak out because of what Mayhem can do-”

“Thanks, Mikey. Did you guys wake me up at 2am to show me the O’Neil's new pet?”

“No,” Donnie scoffed, “we woke you up to tell you about the Oozesquitos. Keep up, Matthew.”

Matt leaned against the sink, calculating if he could make it to the kitchen for medication without falling over.

“Maybe we should sit down,” April suggested, taking Matt’s hand and dragging him back to the couch. Raph pressed a cold cup into his palm and pills in the other after he got situated.

“So, anyway,” Leo said, as if this interruption was the worst that could happen to him. He was their storyteller, after all. “We followed Mayhem, and he fell in love with April instantly, but then humans showed up.”

Matt frowned, but listened intently. 

“And they wanted Mayhem, but we were all like ‘nuh uh’ because they had bats and stuff, and Mayhem didn’t want to go with them. So then they began fighting us-”

“Excuse me?”

“Stop interrupting me. We began fighting them back, but they were massive and turned purple and their dogs began chasing us. But then Mayhem began teleporting and fighting with us, to protect us.”

“Because he’s a good boy.”

“Yes, great addition, April. Mayhem began teleporting and biting the humans because he’s a good boy.”

“And then they broke all of our weapons!”

“Mikey, who’s telling the story here?”

“Are you guys okay?” Matt asked frantically, his own heartbeat, blocking out everything else.

“Just let me finish telling the story!” Leo complained.

“The mystic weirdos then opened a portal and stole Mayhem-”

“Raph!”

“And me. I also fell into the purple portal while trying to save Mayhem,” April announced.

Matt looked between them all before letting his head fall into his hands.

“But I was able to reopen the portal!” Mikey smiled wide. “It was, like, super easy. I-”

“And then we all jumped into the portal,” Leo interjected. “And it brought us to this really weird place where there were tons of creatures in test tubes and purple glowy things everywhere.”

“Man had no interior design.”

Everyone nodded at Mikey’s assessment in agreement, and Matt groaned, gobsmacked.

“We were in a Mystic Hidden City under New York,” April smiled wide. “Have you ever heard of such a thing?”

Matt swallowed, coldness sweeping through him. He had heard of a city underground before from one person. A person he hadn’t thought of in years. When they were kids, Elektra would talk about her purpose and talk about the Hidden City. He had always thought she was being metaphorical…

“There was this giant goat dude, who had a deep voice and wore a ton of armor,” Leo continued as if Matt’s entire world view wasn’t simultaneously falling apart and reconvening in a manner of seconds.

“And he used some ooze he just had to turn the delivery guy who was also there into a mutant crab guy.”

“I’m sorry, he did what?” Matt’s head snapped up towards Raph.

“What he means to say is that the goat man has ooze. And was going to run experiments on Mayhem. And so we had to act. April, here, knew about a room full of mystic weapons, and so we each got some.”

“Except for me, because science is way cooler than magic. Also, magic isn’t real, so there’s also that.”

“Yes, yes, Donnie was being super uncool. But look at my giant sword!”

Leo extended his arm, and Matt leaned back to allow his muddled senses to take in everything. Leo did indeed have a giant sword - or ab Odachi, as they were known as. Raph held his own Tonfas out, as Mikey idly swung a  Kusari-fundo Nunchaku around.

“Mine creates fire vortexes,” Mikey stated, as if that was the most normal thing ever. “Raph can create a giant shield version of himself, and Leo can create teleportation portals. Although, we aren’t that good with them yet.”

“We did grab you some mystic stuff too! But we don’t know what they do.” 

April dropped the sticks into his lap, and Matt’s fingers ideally traced over the engravings. “Sansetsukon,” he mumbled. “This is a sansetsukon.”

They all inched closer, waiting for Matt to use it, but he shook his head. “Please, finish with the story so I can at least have some peace tonight.”

Leo nodded, but didn’t look away from the weapon. “Right, so, we got ready for our fight against goat man, and we were kind of winning. But goat dude began talking in the third person - as evil people tend to do -”

“Hey!” Raph frowned. “Raph does the whole third person thing, and Raph isn’t evil.”

“So, Baron Draxum fights us. And we win,” he bowed, “please, hold your applause, we’re just heroes.”

“The Mad Dogs!”

“Yes, the Maddest of Dogs,” Donnie rolled his eyes. “However, between our success and Draxum’s escape, a bunch of mosquitos carrying that mutating ooze also escaped. Probably going to wreak havoc on the city, or whatnot.”

“That’s it. That’s the tale of how the Mad Dogs became New York’s newest and finest superheroes,” Leo beamed.

Matt slouched into the couch, his whole body sagging with anxiety and despair. One night. He hadn’t been patrolling for one night and this happened. 

“He doesn’t look happy,” Mikey frowned.

“Well, he doesn’t not not look happy,” Leo countered.

“Told you he’d be angry,” Raph grumbled.

Matt shook his head and stood up, passing by the five children, and made his way to the kitchen. Silently, he pulled out the fancy bourbon he and Foggy were saving for their first day in the office and poured himself a rather concerning full glass. Getting plastered wasn’t the solution, but he was still unsure what the question even was.

“Matthew?” Donnie tried, but the older brother just put up a hand and drowned the bourbon in one swift drink before discarding the glass in the empty sink.

“Roof. Now.”

There were only a few times when Matt had ever used his Daredevil voice with the boys, and even then it wasn’t as scary as it was now. They were fast as they scurried up the fire escape with Matt close behind. Before exiting the window, however, he listened in on Foggy, who, by some miracle, was still out cold.

Once they were all on the roof, Matt stood there arms folded tightly over his chest, his own breath heaving as if he was straining to maintain a calm composure. His brothers and April knew better than to push.

“What. Were. You. Thinking?” He said each word so slowly and meticulously, they may as well have been their very own sentences. “Raphael?”

“Oh…full names,” Leo winced under his breath.

“Not the time, Leonardo.”

“We were doing what you taught us-”

“I didn’t teach you this,” Matt interrupted. “Fighting mystical crime bosses in an undercover city?”

“You’re the one hunting down Kingpin,” Donnie interjected.

“Yes, because I’m an adult. I have training, I’m-”

“Training? Big brother,” Leo stepped forward, “hate to break this to you, but we beat our guy while you were getting all cozy with yours. Don’t think we didn’t see you and Big Baldy talking before your speech.”

Matt’s eye twitched, and he took long strides to be in Leo’s face. The kid had grown in the last four years, but Matt was still at least a head taller than him for now.

“No.” He frowned, “no, no, see Kingpin didn’t release assassin bugs into the air. He hasn’t kicked my ass or is dealing with mystic voodoo magic. I’m gathering intel. I’m being safe. You five made a rash decision. You jumped into a fight and lost everything. They kidnapped April. Would’ve kidnapped you too if-”

“If we hadn’t beaten them.”

“You didn’t beat them, though, did you, Leo? Donetello said that he got away. He knows about you now. Don’t you realize the kind of danger you’ve put yourself in.”

“I’m sorry, Matthew,” Leo made himself a little bigger, “but did you miss the part where we said he was a giant goat? It’s not like he was a human. He’s exactly like us. He’s making humans like us. Sure, he got away, but we’ll catch him.”

Matt took a step back and sucked at his teeth. “That’s it,” he said to no one. “I can’t do it. I cannot take even one night off without this city crumbling.” He ran a hand through his already messy curls and screamed into his fist. He was angry. He was furious. But not at the kids.

No.

He was angry with himself.

It was Matt’s job, as the oldest, to protect his family and he had failed. They were beaten, easily, because Matt hadn’t taken the time to train them. Not like Splinter had done for him. Or Elektra.

He shuddered thinking about her. Where was she? Was she in that city that the kids were talking about? Is that where she had been when he had been scouring the city looking for her? Or was she, like him, staying in the shadows awaiting her big moment to be seen once more?

Was it his responsibility to find her and end this war she kept talking about?

“Listen,” he said, once he cooled down slightly. “I’m only…I…please see this from my perspective. If you had gotten hurt, or, hell, had died down there, no one would have known how to find you.”

“But-”

“No, listen, please. Whenever I’m out as Daredevil I have a system, a connection of people I tell. Whether it’s you guys, or Claire, or, or, Jessica and Luke. Someone knows my plan at all times. In case something goes south. And I know, I know, tonight wasn’t supposed to happen. You were just playing and were in the wrong place at the wrong time, but I can’t be with you twenty four seven. So, I’ll make you a deal.”

The children looked up at him, expectantly. They were used to being parented by Matt, but Matt hoped they understood the seriousness of his tone. That this deal didn’t come without its own parameters.

“I will train you to defend yourselves. Stop,” he glared when they began their premature celebrations. “But you will not go out seeking danger. We can go to things together, but I never want you to go looking for it. And,” he added, “if something like this happens again, you call me. I don’t care if I’m on a case or, or, or a date. I will be there. I promise you. However, if you break these rules, there will be consequences. Do we have a deal?”

The children all looked at eachother, grins creeping up on their faces before they all launched forward to hug Matt. “Thank you, thank you,” they cheered, as Matt let out a sigh.

Maybe he couldn’t be there for them all the time, but they could at least carry a bit of him wherever they went.

Between getting the firm set up, training, and stalking Wilson Fisk, Matt was exhausted by the end of the month. Foggy had made a few remarks here and there, but nothing so drastic as what Jessica said after their first stake out together in weeks.

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks for sugar-coating it,” as he rolled his eyes under his cowl.

She growled and grabbed one of his horns, aiming his head down.

“Hey! Watch it.”

“What is your deal, anyway?” She questioned. “What do you even do during the day to make you the way that you are?”

“What-the Devil?”

“No, dipshit. You. What boring ass life do you lead that makes you run, jump, and play, and yet you’re tired by the time I get you.”

“Way to make a lady feel loved.” She kicked him and he frowned. “What?”

“You’ve been off your game, asshole. Your life is one big mess.”

He glared, “and I suppose yours is all peaches and cream?”

She rolled her eyes and scoffed. “No, but I’m also not pretending it is, like you seem to be. Look, I don’t care what you do during the day. Secret identity or whatever, but don’t get me killed because your head is too far up your own ass.”

He glowered at her before sighing. “You’re right. My brothers-”

She pressed her hands to her ears. “Don’t care. You start telling me about your life outside that stupid costume, and I’m going to be mad.”

He laughed, flashing his teeth at her. Despite Jessica’s rough edges, she was like the older sister Matt had never had. He also knew when to shut up and listen. “What did you or Luke get on your end?”

She crossed her arms tight over her chest and pouted. “Nothing. The man has no life outside of this stupid campaign of his. And I’ve never seen Whitney Frost outside of her hotel or on Fisk’s arm.

Matt frowned. “She must have another way of traveling around the city. It’s not the sewers…”

“How the hell do you know that?”

Matt looked up at her and smiled wide. “I lived there for ten years.”

Jessica gave him a look that suggested she didn’t actually believe him, but she also wouldn’t put it past him. “You’re such a weird-o.”

“Takes one to know one, Jess.”

“Jessica.”

He was about to make a retort when something caught his attention. He reached forward and grabbed the bug before it could land on his friend’s arm.

“What the-?” Jessica exclaimed, taking a step back.

“Oozequito.”

“What the fuck?”

“It’s a mutated mosquito that, if it bites you it will change you into a mutated animal.”

“Like what happened to Rupert Swaggart.”

Matt looked at her with a puzzled look. “I didn’t know you watched cooking shows. Let alone Kondescending Kitchen. ”

“Fuck off, asshole.”

“Now don’t get me wrong, Jess, you just don’t seem like the type of person to own a television period.”

“Really, Devil, fuck right off. My friend owns a news show. She told me.”

Matt nodded, his smile fading slightly. “Right, like Rupert…or Meat Sweats…”

“I am not calling him that. Who even came up with that name?”

“A thirteen-year-old boy?”

“Jesus Christ.”

Matt smiled and followed her as she walked across the rooftop. They had been staking out Whitney Frost’s hotel, the Grand Nexus, for hours now, and there had been a lack of unusual activity. There weren't even guests checking in or out regularly. It didn’t sit right with him.

“So, hypothetically, if the bug bit me-”

“Oozesquito.”

“Bite me. If that thing did bite me, is there a cure?”

Matt looked down at his hand, his senses telling him that it was beyond dead, and the ooze it carried left a mark on his glove. “No. Not yet, anyway. I’m not a science person, and…my guy in the chair hasn’t been able to reverse engineer whatever it is. It isn’t…”

It wasn’t from this plant. Or, at least, nothing they knew about. The Hidden City had their answers, probably, but Matt didn’t know how to get there and the Turtles hadn’t accidentally returned since.

“What?”

“It’s magic? Maybe. We don’t know.”

Jess frowned. “And anyone can get bit?”

Matt chewed on his bottom lip. “Well, maybe not Luke…”

Her heart spiked regardless and Matt cursed himself. “So there’s zero protection? What about me? Or our friends? If we get bit, what then?”

A fear that hadn’t been there before bubbled in his stomach. Matt, for the first time since he found Stick’s present, felt small and powerless. “I don’t know.”

“Well, that makes me feel better. Thank you so much for informing me, DareDick.”

“Hey,” he grabbed her arm when she tried to leave. “This isn’t my fault. We’ve been dealing with mutated people for weeks now-”

“And, yet, I’m only hearing about it when my head was almost on the chopping block. What happens then, asshole? Are you going to go after me too?”

“No.”

Jessica took in a deep breath before returning her glare on him. “Look, we don’t mind helping keep this city safe, but you need to be more transparent with us. There’s fucking chemical warefare in the air, and you’ve known since…what? Meat Sweats?”

His heart hammered in his chest. “At least a week before that…but I didn’t know what happened to Rupert Swaggerton would happen. Honest.”

“And who else?”

“Jessica-”

“Who else has this happened to?”

Matt swallowed and shook his head. “I think we need a meeting.”

“Fuck yeah, we do. Fucking asshole.” 

And with that remark, she jumped off of the building. Matt knew where she was headed, even without the clear communication. From what she had said, he knew that she was mad. And not in the usual Jessica Jones type mad, but actually furious at Matt for not telling her sooner.

When he arrived at her apartment, he wasn’t surprised to see both Luke and Claire waiting for him, as well as another girl Matt didn’t recognize, but smelled like Jess in a familiar way.

“Hey team…”

“Jesus Christ, Mike,” Claire started, grabbing his arm to pull him the rest of the way through the window.

“Tell them, asshole,” Jessica glared, setting a cup of cold coffee in front of him. It felt like bad cop/good cop, and he wasn’t the biggest fan.

“Maybe this would help.” He pulled off the cowl, setting the yellow helmet off to the side, and cocking his head at them, expectantly.

“We know what you look like, Mike,” Luke said, his arms never unfolding from his chest.

“My name isn’t Mike.”

“Stop,” Claire warned him.

“It’s Matt. Matt Murdock. I was a law student at Columbia, but graduated a month ago month. My mom died when I was a baby, I was blinded by ooze at the age of nine, my dad was killed in front of me when I was eleven.”

“Sweet Christmas.”

“I was adopted by a man who was affected by the same ooze that blinded me, which turned him into a mutated rat, while it gave my senses a greater ability. I was raised in the sewers with four younger mutated turtle brothers, who, up until two weeks ago, only used ninjutsu as a form of play and now use it as a form of protection for the city. I have witnessed several people get bitten by mosquitos carrying that same ooze and turning people into mutated animals. I didn’t tell any of you, because none of this sounds real, and I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t lived it. I should’ve told you because you deserve to know the truth, but now that I’ve said it out loud you’re all going to call me crazy.”

Everyone was silent as the words hung heavy in the air.

“I believe you,” the unfamiliar woman said, although her voice did sound vaguely familiar. “Name’s Trish Walker. From Trish Talk.”

“My brothers listen to you,” he said dumbly. 

“I believe you,” she restated. “I have a board back at my office with names and people that I think were affected by these mosquitos.”

“Oozsquitos,” Jessica corrected. “Shut up, Murdock.”

Matt smiled wide at her. 

“Does the name Mezmer-Ron or Warren Stone mean anything to you?”

“Hypno-Potamus and, well, Warren Stone. But he’s a worm now, so I guess Worm-en Stone? Anyway, they’re in love, I think?”

“Fascinating.”

“Can we get back on fucking topic?” Claire glared at him. “There are bugs in the air that are turning people into mutated animals, and you’re, what? Just fine with it?”

Matt gawked at her, his age showing. “Of course not. We’re working on a cure.”

“Who’s we?”

Matt shrunk in his seat and bit his lip, “a fourteen-year-old mutated turtle?”

“Sweet Christmas!” Luke exclaimed again, throwing his hands up.

“If it makes you feel any better, he is really smart.”

“It doesn’t,” Jessica frowned. “Alright, so, what are we expected to do to not get bit?”

Matt matched her frown before taking a sip of the old cold coffee. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“Well, this isn’t your fault, Matt,” Trish smiled. “I think if we make the public aware of the situation, get everyone to buy extra bug spray, it’ll lower the chances.”

Matt’s eyebrows knitted together. “And what if people don’t believe you? You’re a smart lady, Trish, but this whole thing sounds like hogwash.”

“Exactly. What if we got someone on my show who could prove that it happened to him? Or them. Or whomever.”

The twenty-two year old stood up, abandoning the half drunk coffee on the desk and walked over to the reporter. “You want Warren Stone.”

“He loves attention.”

“He robbed a bank. Or tried to. The lack of arms is really a downside.”

“Again, he loves the attention.”

Matt turned back to Jessica and threw a thumb, Trish’s way. “She’s taking this surprisingly well.”

“Her best friend has super strength and her best friend’s boyfriend has unbreakable skin. It takes something pretty huge to surprise us.”

“Speak for yourself,” Luke muttered. “Sweet Christmas.”

“I’ll see what I can do. And, Claire, about that cure…”