2
The last thing Matt wanted to do was get in the way. Whether that be physically, or mentally, or emotionally, Matt tried his best to keep out of trouble and make life easier for those around him.
Key word: tried.
Matt’s affinity for causing trouble started as soon as his eyesight faded and his powers appeared. He hadn’t meant to in the beginning, hadn’t meant to get into so many things he shouldn’t. He tried to do what his dad always wanted and stayed out of trouble. Heeded his fathers requests for him to stay out of fights and focus on progressing his life academically.
That worked for a little while, long enough for schoolyard fights at the orphanage to tie Matt over until he got into law school and got his future rolling. But then he started really listening to New York and the way it suffered each day at its own hands. His city needed protecting. So he stepped in every once in a while, cleaned up sometimes when the cops couldn’t or wouldn’t get involved. It temporarily scratched that itch in his brain that demanded he dosomething with all of his pent up energy and residual anger.
In the end it wasn’t enough. Daredevil was born, and there became a definitive divide in the two sides of his life. He wasn’t just Matt Murdock anymore.
Matt wasn’t ashamed of Daredevil. He knew the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen was half of a whole, never meant to be suppressed. But he hated that the vigilante side of him is why Peter existed. If it weren’t for his Daredevil tendencies Matt would have never gotten involved in the Midland Circle incident. He may have met Jessica Jones — he was still a lawyer, after all. But maybe it wouldn’t have progressed as far as it did.
He didn’t regret meeting Jessica, and he didn’t regret Peter. He could never regret Peter. He just regretted that he wasn’t there for both of them from the start, and that simply by being himself, Matt was putting both Peter and Jessica in danger.
Matt had tried to limit his visits to Jessica’s apartment since finding out Peter existed. He would have been over every day if it weren’t for the crippling fear that if he overstepped, she’d tell him he couldn’t visit anymore. The last thing he wanted to do was overwhelm Jessica, especially if it kept him from Peter. Every second away from him felt like wasted time.
Leaving Jessica’s apartment that night felt like a kick to the teeth. Peter was a fussy, hungry baby. Him crying was nothing new. But hearing the way he cried, hearing his little heart flutter with the sobs, Matt almost refused to walk out the door.
In the end, he did. He left so Jessica could spend quality time with her son, time she deserved for getting herself comfortable with the idea of a life of single-parenthood and then having it ruined by her child’s father more or less crawling out of his grave and showing up at her door.
As Matt unlocked the door to his apartment and set his cane to the side, he didn’t expect to hear a heartbeat and the sound of someone shuffling around on his leather couch.
“Foggy,” Matt said simply. After years of friendship, Matt figured he could probably point out Foggy in a crowd of thousands based upon heartbeat and scent alone. Though nowadays his cologne was stronger, nicer, and the fragrance of his hair gel alone was an identifying trait, super-powered nose or no. “Wasn’t expecting you.”
Matt heard metal slide against skin. “I still have a key,” Foggy explained. “Thought I’d drop by, see if you’ve found anything else.”
Matt paused, a drinking glass halfway tilted under the running faucet. “Found anything else?”
“Yeah, about Fisk. What he knows. What he doesn’t.”
The pressure on Matt’s chest lifted a bit. He hadn’t told Karen or Foggy about Peter yet. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t know if Jessica would want him to. She was vague at best about her own personal life most of the time, so Matt imagined she would be just as protective of Peter’s, if not more so.
That would have to be a talk Matt had with her soon. As much as Matt wanted to tell his friends about his son, he didn’t want to put Peter in danger, especially if Fisk was starting to pick up on Matt’s daytime identity. Him being in a Federally Funded box with metal bars didn’t make him non-lethal. Fisk was reaching out, pulling old contacts. Not showing his hand, exactly, but wasn’t keeping quiet either. The piece of New York’s criminal underworld that didn’t get drug down during the original Fisk trial was restless. There was talk that Fisk was planning something, something big. Whatever he had in mind, Matt had to make sure it never came to fruition.
Matt switched the faucet off. He was too distracted— he overfilled his glass and water dripped down his hand as he made his way to one of the chairs across from the couch. “I don’t know anything for sure. But I have a feeling—“
“Oh, great. One of your famous feelings—“
“—that he knows. And if he doesn’t, he’ll be sure of it soon.”
Foggy leaned back on the couch. “You’re usually much better at obtaining information than this.”
“Am I?” Matt took a careful sip of his water. “Haven’t noticed.”
“Seriously, Matt. You seem distracted.”
“Don’t I have a reason to be?” Matt asked. “A criminal mastermind wants me dead.”
“But like you said, you don’t know for sure. Fisk definitely knows Daredevil was at Midland Circle and hasn’t been seen since. He probably thinks you’re already dead. Maybe you should just… Back off.”
“Foggy. Are you serious? This is Wilson Fisk we’re talking about.”
“No, this is you we’re talking about. You finally have a chance to get away! If you’re right and Fisk has been keeping tabs on the Devil from prison, he knows that you were crunched beneath thousands of tons of concrete and steel. With any luck, he thinks you’re still there. It doesn’t matter if he knows you’re Matt Murdock or not, because to him, both sides of you are no longer part of the equation.”
“Exactly. So this is my time to make sure he never leaves that hole without him actively looking my way while I do it.”
Skin on skin. Foggy was pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re creating problems for yourself, do you realize that? Fisk hasn’t actually done anything yet.”
“C’mon, Fog, you know better than that. We took him down once before. He’s always doing something.”
“It doesn’t have to be your problem anymore.”
Technically, no. It didn't. There’s always a chance that someone like Matt, someone with some sort of power, whether it be physical or political or what have you, would start giving a shit and keep Fisk from stirring the pot too much.
The non-surety of it wasn’t a risk Matt could take. He had to make sure Fisk was well and truly off the playing field.
Because if Fisk knew the truth about him and had a way to act upon that knowledge, Matt needed to be as far from Peter and Jessica as possible.
Matt’s father raised him, cared for him, was there for him. Then Jack Murdock let his pride get in the way. He died and left Matt alone after being the only important thing he had for the first nine years of his life.
For right now, Matt was going to do something he’d be paying for in his second life. He was going to be selfish, and he was going to spend time with his son up until the moment he was sure of Fisk’s movements and needed to distance himself.
If Matt was going to get himself killed taking down Wilson Fisk, he’d do it before Peter could remember his face. Better for his son to mourn the father he never had than the one that abandoned him.
“Miss Jones, little Peter, lovely to see you guys again, let’s— oh, and you’d be…”
“Matthew,” Matt said, releasing the arm Jessica was using to guide him and extending it toward the doctor.
The pediatrician stared like he expected something more, maybe an explanation as to why a random man was at the appointment when it had only been Peter and Jessica since day one, but Matt just kept his signature close-lipped smile plastered to his face. The doctor took the swerve in stride and shook Matt’s hand. “Doctor Wynn. Glad to have you with us.”
Matt cane-tapped his way over to the two spare chairs against the wall on the other side of the exam room. He tucked the cane into the corner and took a seat, then opened his hands before him. Jessica passed him Peter’s car seat, which he placed on the floor and started gently rocking back and forth.
“Sorry Doc,” Jessica said as she stripped off her scarf and gloves, nodding toward Peter. He was fussy today and only constant movement kept him from having non-stop breakdowns. “Pete’s not in a great mood.”
Doctor Wynn went to wash his hands at the sink across from the exam table and chuckled softly. “They never are, Miss Jones. I don’t take it personally. Is Peter still as light of a sleeper as he was in the beginning?”
“Definitely. Maybe even more so now.”
“But the same things set him off? Shouting, honking, anything along those lines?”
Jessica nodded, and the doctor’s following sympathetic smile looked more like a wince. “An unfortunate aversion to sensory stimulation, considering you live in New York.”
“Tell me about it. You still think he’s just a grumpy baby? Nothing else going on?”
Peter had been that way since he was born— quick to start fussing at loud noises, quick to sob if Jessica turned on the lights too fast, quick to howl if he didn’t like the blanket she’d wrapped him in. He was the most primadonna baby she’d ever encountered. She’d asked the doc about it shortly after Peter was born, and after a full medical workup, he’d basically told her that Peter was just oddly responsive to physical stimuli and it was a hill they’d have to climb until he was older and could self-soothe.
“I can’t say for sure until after I check him out. But my best guess is that he’s got the same drama gene he had when he was a newborn. Just try not to drastically change his environments whenever possible. The last thing we want to do is overwhelm him.”
The doctor’s eyes darted to Matt and back. It was an impressively sly glance, one most people wouldn’t notice or properly read if they weren’t a full time P.I. and got paid to read people.
According to Doctor Wynn, Matt was a drastic change to Peter’s environment and was probably overwhelming him.
Matt was obnoxiously put together for a doctor’s visit— suit, collared shirt, tie, the whole nine yards. He was also back to acting just blind enough to fool the average bystander. His fingers stalled as he fumbled Peter’s car seat buckles open one by one. “I’m sorry,” he said to no one in particular as he fiddled with the straps, “I always have trouble with the left one. It likes to stick.”
Jessica pushed over in her own seat so her knee pressed into Matt’s, shoving a bit harder than necessary to lean over him and toward the carrier. “I got it.”
Peter let out the most pitiful whine when Jessica handed him off to the doctor, who bounced him slowly while Jessica dug through the diaper bag. ”Sorry, buddy, is the evil man gonna make sure you’re growing big and strong? How rude of him. I’ll be there in a second, just lemme grab… Ah! There we go.” She handed the stuffed elephant to Matt, who had such a hilariously blank look on his face that Jessica would have snorted if she wasn’t so stressed out. “Stand up, Matt. You’re the distraction.”
Doctor’s visits with Peter were...tense, for her. Any mother would be concerned about their child’s health, but Jessica was particularly on edge about his physical development considering the fact that for the first two months of her pregnancy, she didn’t know she was pregnant and drank like a fiend. Peter was born perfectly fine, if not a bit small. But she couldn’t kick the feeling that she messed something up permanently.
Doctor Wynn handed Peter back and Jessica hopped up on the exam table, Peter on her lap. Matt stood close but out of the way, gently shaking the toy to keep Peter’s attention off the strange man coming at him with a stethoscope.
“That’s good,” the doctor said. “He’s visibly tracking movement. See the way his eyes follow the toy? Miss Jones, say something to him.”
Jessica reached around and gently squeezed the meat of Peter’s leg. He still seemed small to her— he would always probably be small and in need of protecting in her eyes— but he’d definitely developed something close to baby rolls. “Pete, Doc says I’m supposed to be talking to you.”
Low and behold Peter turned minutely, eyes shifting to look up at Jessica from where he was cradled in her arms. Jessica didn’t immediately try wipe the smile off her face. “He sees me me.”
“Hey, Petey. Over here.”
Jessica sat Peter up a bit to give him a better view. The baby did his best to look toward Matt.
“Is he watching me?” Matt asked.
Jessica wanted to scoff, but quickly reined herself in. She’d spent so much alone time with Matt and Peter recently she forgot that Matt was only totally able-bodied behind closed doors.
Or behind a mask, adorned with Devil horns.
In public, he needed to act as blind as he appeared. “Yeah. Move the toy again.”
Matt twisted his wrist, shaking whatever rattle was sewn inside the stuffed animal. Jessica had to tighten her grip on Peter as his legs kicked out with excitement.
The doctor watched with obvious fascination. “Very responsive. More so than most children his age. I have a feeling he’s going to be an early talker. Maybe even an early walker, by the looks of those legs.”
“Just what we need,” Jessica said, wriggling a finger beneath Peter’s chin and making him giggle. “This little menace running around before his time.”
The rest of the appointment was uneventful; the doctor was kind and efficient, Peter was fussy, a bit less so thanks to Matt’s stuffed elephant-shaped distraction, and Matt stood by looking a bit out of place like he always did.
It had been Matt’s idea from the start, for him to come to Peter’s two month checkup. He’d only found out about it the night before because Jessica’s phone buzzed with an appointment reminder. He asked what it was about, she mumbled enough about doctors and the asscrack of dawn to put together that Peter had a doctor’s appointment in the morning.
“Jessica, do you...Do you think I could go? To the appointment. With you. And Peter. If that would make you uncomfortable I completely understand. I don’t want to intrude—“
She sort of tuned the rest out. She was too busy actually considering Matt going to one of Peter’s appointments with her. It had been Jessica and Peter from the start. A superpowered woman and her-child-that-somehow-looked-more-like his-dead-father-than-her. They were a duo, mother and son against the world.
Now they were mother and son, and dad. It was becoming more and more real every day. Every time Jessica watched Peter wrap his chunky little hand around Matt’s finger. Every time Matt changed a diaper and didn’t complain about the smell when Jessica knew it must have been torture with those enhanced senses. Every time Matt looked visibly crushed to leave her apartment, because he was leaving his son behind.
“I’d say things are progressing nicely,” the doctor said, dropping his used gloves in the wastebin nearby and grabbing his chart, preparing to leave the room. “Peter is a perfectly healthy baby.”
Not many people fist-bumped their babies, but Jessica did it once as a joke between her and Trish and it became habit to bump knuckles with Peter every time something exciting happened. “Great work, kid. Mom’s proud.” Peter responded with a series of gurgles and nonsensical babbles.
The doctor flipped a few pages into Peter’s chart. “Last thing on the docket would be his two-month vaccines. Looks like you approved them all with the desk nurse when you got here. Another nurse will be in shortly to administer them, alright? It was lovely seeing you guys. And nice meeting you, Matthew.”
Matt smiled and threw a short wave as the door clicked shut. He shuffled in place and squirmed in his suit jacket like it was rubbing him the wrong way. “Is that always so nerve wracking?”
Jessica looked up from where she’d been watching Peter gnaw on his own hand. “What? The check-up?”
“Yeah.”
“Hell yes. I’m…” She didn’t know how to express her concerns without sounding insane. “I’m always afraid they’re gonna notice something I didn’t. Something important. And me not catching whatever it is early enough will determine whether he survives it or not.”
“I think you oughta give yourself some credit, Jessica.”
“Why’s that?”
“You’ve made it this far. And Peter’s fine. Developing exceptionally, even.” Matt motioned to Peter, who had switched his hand out for his socked foot. The fabric was soaked at the toe.
Jessica cringed. Motherhood was great and all, but she’d never be a fan of all the bodily fluids babies managed to get everywhere. “Not without trial and error.”
“Nobody’s perfect. Especially not at parenting.”
“It’s really not—“
“You know, Jess, you’re allowed to take compliments every once in a while.”
Jessica blushed at the nickname. “You know, Matty, you don’t have to go out of your way to be all honest and sappy with everyone. This isn’t confession.”
Matt was hard to read at the best of times, but trying to discern how he was feeling now was like trying to count blades of grass. Impossible. Would probably take forever. Matt’s face was blank and Jessica couldn’t decide if he was done talking now that he’d said his piece or if she’d genuinely offended him. She liked to toe the line between joking and straight up blasphemy when she messed with Matt, but up until now he’d never had such an immediate reaction, or lack thereof, to one of her taunts.
Jessica didn’t have too much time to think about it before the nurse was knocking on the door and entering the room. She made quick work of prepping her tray of syringes and arranging them next to the exam table. “Alright, Miss Jones, first is going in his leg.”
The nurse flicked the syringe and pushed the air out. She turned, needle aimed toward Peter.
And he immediately started screaming bloody murder.
“Hey, hey, hey. Whoa little man. What’s the deal? She hasn’t even stuck you yet.”
Peter didn’t follow that logic, apparently, and continued crying. The nurse moved closer with the needle. “We’re gonna do it on three, okay, mom? Hold him tight. One, two, thr— whoa, hey now.”
The needle didn’t have the chance to pierce skin before Peter slid in Jessica’s arms and pushed himself out of the way. The nurse repositioned and tried again but Peter just kept moving, somehow dodging every prick through sheer force of will. Eventually the nurse’s trajectory was right and she delivered the shot, after which Peter decided his previous crying volume wasn’t loud enough and kicked it up a few notches.
Matt moved in the corner of Jessica’s eye. He was cringing, just a bit. Only enough to make his nose scrunch up beneath his classes. Jessica felt momentary pity for him and the way his supercharged eardrums must have been suffering. Shot two went the same as the first; Peter wouldn’t stop moving, the nurse had to act fast so she wouldn’t poke something important, Peter hollered like he was having his limbs cut off.
Jessica almost gave up on shot number three. Very briefly considered letting herd immunity take care of Peter and walking out of that office.
When the nurse stepped forward with the last syringe, Peter chose to be the most violent and physically responsive he’d ever been. In quick succession he squeezed his eyes shut, threw his head back, and rolled right out of Jessica’s arms. Both her and the nurse jumped for him. Jessica was strong, but few people would have been quick enough to catch Peter as he swan dived toward the floor.
Few people did not include Matt Murdock. He leapt over and caught Peter around the torso, immediately bringing him up and holding him against his chest, one hand on his spine and one cradling the back of his head.
Peter bawled and bawled as Matt gently swayed back and forth, whispering to him quietly, trying and failing to calm him.
“H-how about I give you all a minute? Maybe...Maybe give him a chance to relax a bit before we try the last one.” The nurse didn’t wait for an answer before grabbing her syringe and tray and booking it out of the exam room. It was fine. Jessica’s lungs were too tight to have responded anyways.
She tried to say something and it came out as more of a choke. Matt turned toward her. “He’s fine, Jess.”
Jessica breathed deeply for a moment. Matt was frustratingly patient. “He almost wasn’t.”
Matt looked pensive. “I think he was trying to get away.”
“Get away? From what?”
“The needles. He knew they were coming.”
“Matt, Peter just started tracking objects with his eyes. You seriously think he can identify a needle and know it’s going to hurt?”
Matt bounced on the heels of his feet, the constant motion soothing Peter minutely. Jessica used to pride herself on being able to calm Peter down but in recent weeks, Matt had won the title of Best Baby Rocker. Jessica always tried to replicate his ministrations but no matter what, if he was being held, Peter fell asleep for Matt quicker than he did her. “His heart rate sped up before the first one. She hadn’t even poked him yet and he was panicking. It’s...It’s like he sensed it. The danger.”
“You think our two month-old baby has a danger sense.”
“I don't know what I think. But Peter reacted the second the needle cap came off. It’s gotta mean something.”
Absurd. Jessica’s life was so absurd, and she was tired of dealing with it. Weird shit always came her way, just quick and hard enough that she couldn’t dodge it. She just had to suffer and do things like listen to her baby daddy try and convince her that their son had the gift of foresight.
They sat in relative silence for a few minutes. Eventually Peter wasn’t screaming himself hoarse and there was something like a moment of peace.
Until the nurse knocked on the door. She poked her head into the room. “We ready to try that last vaccination again?”
Peter started crying.