Self-proclaimed vigilantes have a code around these parts. Leave certain things out of your business.
They weren't as influential as the Avengers or as established as the Fantastic Four. In all honesty, the masked vigilante trend only started recently. They're bare. They're unpaid. They're unprotected.
Daredevil is no different.
He's been in operation for hardly a few months, but he's come to learn the hard way that he can't just dive down deep headfirst.
Now, he knows that Matt Murdock gets way too much attention. Unwanted attention. With his success rates reaching the news and his low price demands appealing to the unprivileged, people have gone as far as to come knocking on his door when he's too busy to accept clients.
Though he would've preferred that to the hummingbird heartbeat he's hearing on his roof right now.
"Come on come on come on-" the visitor mutters angrily, shaking a tiny robot. "Work, you stupid thing."
The words were concerning. The whirring of metal even moreso. The voice sounds like it belongs to a kid. A little on the young side.
Matt hates how his mind hops into action. This could be a suicide bomber. A terrorist. Another ninja. Maybe from an organization he's managed to piss off from either side of his identity.
He throws on a jacket and a surgeon mask to hide his face, though his identity could easily be found regardless. It brings him a sense of comfort though. He brings the cane.
It could be a handy weapon should he need it.
The kid, a teenager based on the voice crack, yells out an 'aha' as the robot hovers above ground. It feels like a toy drone, but it's compressed, advanced, and small enough to warrant suspicion.
"Can you point me to the drug cartel now?" he whispers. "And please don't take me halfway across America this time."
The thing hovers up and down, like it's giving a little nod, before flying away. The figure jumps down the building and Matt instinctively busts open the door to try and stop them.
Only to hear a 'thwip' as a white, slimey, substance exits the kid's wrists. The figure turns around and tells Karen to take a picture before following the drone.
Matt really hates himself right now.
He speedwalks to his little case in the corner of his bedroom once he opens his door, putting out an ear in case anyone's nearby, and grabs his Daredevil gear.
If the kid is doing what he thinks he's doing, then he's gonna follow him.
He's honed in on his scent and sound and takes in the damp surroundings of the outside world. With a breath, he prepares for a chase.
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During the hunt, Daredevil feels the start of the strange heartbeat from the kid. Already quick as a bee, it speeds up in nervousness and he knows he's been spotted. That's fine. He's not trying that hard to hide anyways.
The kid ducks around the corners in an attempt to lose him. His sticky hands and feet allow him easier access to places and Matt feels a tad frustrated at his lack of mobility. He follows without faltering though. He could feel his target huff.
"Can you hear me?" He jolts as the flighty individual speaks calmly. Had it been anyone else, it would've been lost to the wind. "I'll take that as a yes." Hummingbird stops on a roof. It'll take a bit of parkour to get up. Enough time for him to get away once more. Smart. "Can you smell me?" The other ticks off. "Can you sense me?"
Daredevil grunts as he grabs the ledge with a hand. He's panting and tired and a tad annoyed. He feels the air shift as the figure stops close to his face. Mask and mask stare at each other as they wait for the other to move.
"Are you...." Hummingbird tilts his head in curiosity. "....like me?"
The robot comes back to land on his shoulder. Matt lifts himself up with a solid inhale.
"You're tough to follow." He starts, instead. "Do you have a name?"
He could feel a spike in the pulse. He must be new to introductions. Scrap that. Despite his mastery in parkour, he feels new to everything.
"I'm...Spiderman." The kid introduces while holding out a hand. "And you?"
Matt eyes the hand with suspicion before deeming the other safe enough to hold.
"Daredevil." He returns. "I'm the Devil of Hell's Kitchen."
He could feel pure giddiness radiating from the other vigilante. A held back squeal of excitement at the back of his throat. A slight tremble. The changed pattern in breaths.
"That's nice," Spiderman says, trying to play cool. Their hands stay connected for a little while longer before they separate. The younger holds onto his left hand, the one that made contact with the older vigilante.
Matt smirks.
Looks like he has a fan.
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"So....what are you doing in my territory, Spiderman?" The Devil asks with a slight rasp. He's still tired from the run. Maybe he should start bringing backpacks full of water bottles.
If only he could spare the stamina for that kind of weightlifting.
Spidey squirms under his gaze before opening his mouth. "I've gotten word of a semi-underground group called Double-Helix trying to conjure up a certain gas that makes people susceptible to kidnapping. Not only that, but word on the streets says that they actually throw themselves at their would-be captors. They're planning on marketing the product which would not only raise the numbers of missing people by a lot, but it would also overwhelm the police and investigators which means that a lot of people would also be left scared and alone. Especially if they could wipe off the evidence before anyone could start looking." Spiderman shakes his head. "They're good at hiding though."
"Sounds like a high stakes mission for a lone vigilante," Daredevil mused. "Wait. Semi-underground?"
Spidey winced. "I have a feeling that they're trying to make it more accessible by selling it through legal means as well. Based on a sample I got, it could probably be marketed as a type of hormone stabilizer. Thing is that it's still too new to guess all the negative side effects, both long term and short term. They'd probably be able to get volunteers through financial incentives if possible. Less eyes than if they nabbed everyone from the streets willy nilly."
"Do you need any help?" Daredevil asked. "I have experience with taking down large organizations. Things like these need to be handled with delicacy." He frowns at the condescending tone in his own voice. "Things like these take time. Lots of it."
Spiderman waves frantically. "Oh no worries, Mr. Daredevil, Devil of Hell's Kitchen, sir! I'm just hunting a low level seller right now. I'm in need for more samples so I can make a countering agent for the drug. Or something akin to a nullifier. A preventive measure in case I run into any victims face to face."
"Oh." Matt blinks his unseeing eyes before looking at the drone on the others' shoulder.
"You could come if you want," Spidey offers. "This is still your area after all. I'd wager your infamous tracking powers would probably come in handy."
...
He should really say no. After all, all he needs to know is who that person involved was and he could basically track down the whole organization and tear it down with a tiny bit of investigative act. With the bonus of this lucrative vigilante not being in the know that he's getting all up in his business.
But...
"Fine. I'll come."
Gosh darn it. He couldn't just stand by and listen to the inevitable gunshots that will no doubt be trained on a kid.
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"Wait. I think that's him," Spiderman whispers, holding an arm to his chest. Daredevil curses the scent of rain cloying the air. "Right, Karen? He seems to be right below us, but I can't decypher what he's saying."
"He's talking about reopening the family business once he gets his salary," Matt relays calmly. "He's just got to pay off a debt apparently."
Spidey sputters. "But....he's already in the deep end."
Matt turns to his accomplice with a dead stare. "I hope you're not one of those people who preach about repention and then-"
"No! No. No. No." Spiderman jitters. "What I mean is that I normally see people who leave the life of crime get killed by their old 'friends.' While willingly reintegrating into society as a non-violent civilian is a good thing....it's not always the safest course of action for them to take. Not for them nor the people they care about. They don't wear masks like us, Mr. Daredevil, Devil of Hell's Kitchen, sir. They don't have another identity to hide behind."
Matt pauses as he takes a sharper 'look' at his companion. As though he's seeing him in a new light.
"First of all, that's a mouthful. Just call me Daredevil. Second of all, I'm sorry for assuming. I recently ran into another chatty masked man in red and we don't..." He winces. "We aren't on the best of terms right now."
"Hey. Mr. Devil?" The other starts softly. "You may have been in operation for a few good weeks or so now, but you're new to this. So am I. We're bound to step on each other's feet every once in a while." He knocks shoulders with him and Matt smiles in amusement at the sudden rise in panic in the teenager. "Oh I did not just do that."
"You just did," he teased. He could sense Spiderman's face warm up in embarassment before hearing his groan. "How embarrassing." The banter comes easy the more he relaxes.
"Hey! We were just having a lovely heart-to-heart over here." Spidey complains with a whine. "You ruined the moment."
"Well you can fix the moment by telling me if we're getting your guy or not. We're taking a while." Matt sasses.
"Oh." Spiderman pauses as he takes a look at his target. He frowns. "I feel kinda bad about punching a dude who's on his way to leaving his life of crime though."
"Can't feel bad when we're doing our jobs, Spiderman," he retorts. "Justice is blind after all."
The kid gives him another look. "Justice is subjective. Not blind. That's why we're in masks and not living our lives like good citizens." He slowly crawls down the wall and Matt follows in a fire escape. "It's also why we leave people's fates up to judges, lawyers, and the police."
"We need the people in power to have an impartial view of the situation." He throws back.
"Yeah, but they're still people. And you aren't really impartial when money is involved."
"Well it's the best humanity has come up with so far."
Spiderman webs up the criminal, quick, easy, and silent. Somehow, Matt feels like this is out of character for him.
He makes a careful note that no punches were thrown and no bullets got shot. Everything was finished in a second.
He feels uneasy.
"You can't exactly give out proper sentences when you're always looking for the why's and the how's of a situation." Spiderman pushes on. "Sooner or later, the good guy gets thrown in jail and the bad guy gets to roam free. Where is your blind justice then, Mr. Devil?"
The irony of the situation. They're speaking about justice when they're equally liable for trespassing, assault, theft, etc. as masks. He finds it coincidental that just a few weeks ago, he'd helped a crook escape a sentence as his lawyer.
The webbed man gives out a muffled yelp as Spiderman shuffles through his bag and steals the drug right in front of him.
"We can go talk about morality over and over later." Spiderman creates a sack made of his webbing and puts the precious goods inside. "But I need to bring this to the lab. Something tells me they used alien tech to manufacture this."
Daredevil takes a pause as Spiderman hauls the criminal up his back as well and starts crawling up the wall.
"Not swinging tonight?"
"Can't jostle the goods."
"This is effectively kidnapping."
Another irony.
"I have a friend who can patch me up with someone who can interrogate this one better than the police."
"You're not gonna free him, are you?" Matt questions, narrowing his eyes as Spiderman falters. The ideal situation would really be the man in question knocked out for this part, but he's effectively bound and blinded.
"I....it depends on what he says."
"Spiderman." He addresses. "He's part of the problem. He needs to be handed to the proper authorities."
"The proper authorities might as well just label him a criminal and put a black mark in his name for the rest of his life. I'd rather avoid that if possible." He turns to look at the land bound vigilante. "Don't worry. I'll run a background check on him. I just need the full story."
He stares back at the direction he came from and gives out one last salute before walking away.
@@@
There's something sweet in the air when he goes out the next day. Something more potent than the smell of burnt sugar. Something he can't put a name to.
Maybe that's just him exploring a bit close to Queens for the first time.
He can't help it. He's put out an ear on Hummingbird and his webbed up criminal all night long. It didn't take long for him to deem him a relatively good guy.
A relatively good guy with major connections.
The night they separated, he'd followed the kid to Stark's tower, thankful at the slower pace he took, and listened in on the info they'd exchanged. He felt guilty learning about his first name, but that comes with the job.
He had to admit that there was a lot of vocabulary thrown in that he probably misunderstood. In his defense, he's not a chemist. Or an engineer.
Iron Man had a few choice words to put out when 'Peter' said he'd probably release 'Keneffer,' but upon his insistence, Stark relented.
Insistence being that they'd use the man as a willing spy for Double-Helix, on which Keneffer agreed to without much persuasion.
How lucky.
Back to the present, he's Matt Murdock right now and he's off on the better part of the city. He takes a deep breath at the lack of smoke.
Yeah, it's still too sweet to be imagined.
He's strangely cold by the time he actually reaches Spiderman's residence. There's a ringing in his ear and he can't smell shit right. His mouth feels like leather and his head feels fluttery and light.
There were a lot of probable things that could've happened to get him like this, but his suspicion is pointing to one.
He must've somewhat inhaled the gas.
And right now, he's hoping that Peter has already whipped up a cure.
Already embarrassed, he knocks.
@@@
"Are you home alone?" Is probably not the best thing to say in front of a teenager. He's undeniably twice his age, bruised, unshaven, panting, sweating, and disheveled with a crooked smirk. He's swaying on his feet and he's majorly unbalanced. He probably looks like the stereotypical predator from the movies they warn kids about.
And somehow, Spiderman isn't afraid of his creepy aura right now. Before the other could get a word in, he speaks.
"Let me start over. I know you're home alone. Question is if you're gonna be alone for a while. I need to speak with you about something important in private right now." That definitely does not sound any better, but his mind is cloudy to care.
"Yeah. I just..." Matt listens in on the tiny plastics on the kid's ears repeating his message. Hearing aids, most likely. "It's you."
Matt blinks. "It's...me?"
"You're Daredevil, right?" He chokes on his own saliva. "You're the man who chased after me when I jumped."
Matt feels quite dumb for not thinking about the picture the other took that day. No doubt he'd be recognized. With his resources, he definitely already knows his full background.
"No regular human would've been able to hear that through the door. I thought you were a mutant though. It was way too big a coincidence that Daredevil started chasing me right after. I pieced the pieces together."
Matt didn't say anything about the mutant part.
He pushes the teen in the house and closes the door. "Secret identity, remember?" He presses.
"Oh right. That was stupid." Peter brings his hand up on his forehead. "Dumb. Dumb. Dumb. Idiot. Dumb. People could've heard."
"How are you so sure that I knew your identity?" Matt asks.
Peter 's lips quirked up. "Mr. Stark has some of the best security. It'll be weird for him not to take into account the fact that people could target his building due to his Ironman bizz. He set up a system where it monitors people for their suspicious activities. A man in red just shifting around awkwardly outside isn't exactly normal. You stood out like a sore thumb. That and I have a fifth sense that sorta tells me when I'm being watched....or listened to."
"I-" He wanted to say more, but the cold started seeping into his bones and his voice cuts off into a croak. His nose starts itching real bad and his touch feels so sensitive. "I need help."
His existing scabs unpleasantly make themselves known.
God his ears hurt.
"With what?" Peter gives him a lookover. He rambles. "You look sick. Are you running a fever? An infection? Are your senses messing you up? How's your pulse, is it fast? What about your breathing? Do you feel like you're taking in air normally? Does it feel shallow? Do you have a wound somewhere? Are you in pain? Ah jeez, I'm not good at dealing with mutants. I don't know your powers well enough to run that good of a diagnosis. You need a professional."
"The only medical connection I have is a regular doctor," he adds in unhelpfully. "This isn't a bullet wound though and unknown drugs may be out of her expertise."
"Anything I can do?" Peter offers.
"You're sensitive to things too, right?" At his nod, Matt continues. "Are you familiar with sensory overload?"
Peter nods once more. Catching on, he offers up his hearing aids.
"Made these myself. They block out most loud noises and they're up to the scale of 1 to 10. I normally have them set up to 8, but I feel like even 10 wouldn't be totally enough for you." Matt takes them with a grateful smile. He's right. At 8, things were still way too loud. He changes it to 10 and the world seems a lot clearer than before.
He pushes down the slight panic he felt at his dulled down hearing though. It's way more muddled than what he normally perceives.
"Oh, I have goggles that block out most light too. They come with my old Spiderman gear." The kid chirps in before wincing. "But...you....uh...probably don't need that..."
"I'm blind, yes," Matt says, amused.
"So..." Peter shifts around. He could tell that he has questions about his powers, but he's grateful that he's not asking any of them right now. "Any suspects on what's causing your senses to go haywire?"
His mouth feels dry and his throat is scratchy. Still. He musters up enough saliva to mention the notebook Spidey was using to document his 'research.'
"I did suspect that they'd released the gas in the area. Karen issued me a warning earlier, I think. Not sure if it was accidental or intentional though. I haven't looked into that yet."
"You didn't think to warn me?"
"I wouldn't know. My Spidey Sense wasn't triggered. I think it was cuz my suit filters out harmful particles automatically." Peter shrugs. "I thought it was a malfunction..."
"I see." They both snort.
"I also thought you were protected from the gas as well." He brings a hand to his neck sheepishly.
"Did you see me wear a gas mask?" He sassed.
"In my defence, it was dark."
"Don't you have night vision?"
"Okay! I'm just unobservant!"
Another cold spell hits his chest. He feels needy, itchy, and so empty. He drops, but Peter is quick to catch him. The kid hauls his arm on his shoulders and supported him without a struggle. "Please tell me you have a cure on the way."
And wow. Spiderman was hot. Not hot hot. He's warm. He's burning. He's the opposite of cold and that's odd because he heard that the guy can't thermoregulate even if his life depended on it.
But right now, he's like a blanket that's too thick to give you that comfortable temperature, but is still a preferable option to the open cold air.
He could feel the tiny hairs move on the kid's palms when they made contact. They're not thin and smooth like a regular human's. This must be what helps him grip certain surfaces with ease. It's unnerving as hell being used on him.
It feels like tiny ants crawling on his arm.
He's still sweaty. He needs a change of clothes. He could feel every droplet that escapes the pores on his fingers. He could feel the matted down underside of his suit. It's sticky as well as wet. And very strong in that distasteful odor.
Peter takes a glance at his book. "I still need a few days. We're still hoping to recreate the drug first so we wouldn't have to keep on nabbing the sellers."
"Fuck."
He did not want that.
He really hates drugs. Even painkillers are enough to send him to a tizz.
The kid gives him a concerned glance. "Even if I had it, I don't know the exact dosage you took in. I don't know how many mLs to give you. I'm not interested in having a human lab rat. It would be faster if we were in Mr. Stark's tower and I doubt either of you want that." He looks at his companion. "In all honesty, it would probably be safer for you as well to let it run its course. You're not exactly a normal human. Who knows how this would interact with your brain? Most of the gas most likely dissipated in the air anyways. Oh no. I'd probably have to check in on the local residents to see if they're doing alright." He puts Matt down on his living room sofa and goes up to his room and grabs the drone. He instructs it to run an hour by hour check of the general area and to give a direct report on the gas molecule ratio in the air to his computer.
"I need to go buy a change of clothes," Matt mumbled when the kid returned with a glass of water. "'m sweaty."
The mixed smell of sweat and burning caramel is almost enough to make him gag. Thankfully, he's used to questionable odors.
"You're dehydrated." He admonishes. "See to it that that glass is empty and I'm coming with."
Matt gives him a raised eyebrow. A tiny bit petulant.
"Hey, you're the one who decided to follow me on patrol. Might as well return the favor." Peter smiles sheepishly. "It's only fair."
"Fine."
He's so lucky Spiderman is easy to work with.
@@@
He's nauseous.
He's dizzy.
He's cold.
He's injured.
He's susceptible.
He's sick.
He's blind.
He still looks like a rich person which he really isn't.
In the streets they're walking on, that's practically a perfect invitation for a mugging.
Thankfully, the kid stuck by his side and pepper sprayed any would be criminals before they could even get a hit in due to his Spidey Sense.
Unthankfully, if they were recorded by anyone, it would be an easy charge of unwarranted assault by the law.
He also doesn't mention how the wafted particles aggravate his nose just a tiny bit.
Peter buys two surgical face masks and tells Matt to put them on. It helps both issues quite effectively.
He also ditches his blind man glasses in hopes to be less recognizable.
They still paint quite a picture. All they need are tattoos, leather jackets, and a couple of cigarettes to look like the stereotypical hooligan. At least, from that one cartoon Matt remembers watching twenty years ago.
He still has Peter's hearing aids. He really needs to give it back before he gets too attached to them.
They get to the store and Matt internally celebrates. He was only accused of pedophilia once for holding the kid's arm before he had to explain that he's just a poor blind man in need of assistance. He doesn't fault them for thinking that though. It's nice that there are people still looking out for the children of the city. If only they weren't too quick to hop on the judging bandwagon and analyze the situation first.
Matt did forget to mention how sensitive his skin is to certain fabrics though. They probably should go looking for higher class stuff made with softer materials.
"Mr. Murdock? How long are you planning on staying exactly?" Peter asks. "Can't you just go home and get your things before looking for something new? Not that I'm kicking you out or anything."
He decides then and there to switch directions and buy the earliest train ticket back home.
Only to be nudged by Peter saying he needs to pack up his homework, his research, his own clothes, and his Spidey gear before coming with.
"Why exactly are you coming again?"
Peter gives him a cursory glance. "Need to take care of you. Need to monitor you as well. That and I could observe the effects on the drug even if you aren't the most average of samples. Not everyone lets a teenager into their home, y'know? More info on all sides."
He decides to tune out the kid calling his aunt to stay at a friend's place for the night. He doesn't mention the fact that he doesn't have another bed.
He's starting to hate the smell of sugar too much at this point to actually focus.
He's so dizzy.
@@@
Peter shows up with another pair of hearing aids and says he could keep this pair in the meantime. Matt is starting to think the kid's a godsend before shuffling to flick on the lights.
"That won't be necessary," he says. "Good vision, remember?"
Spiderman forces him to wear a tight wristwatch and he very vocally complains about unknown tech being uncomfortable. The kid chose to then go on a tangent on what it actually does. Apparently it gives a reading on his oxygen and heart rate and temperature, but he also mentions that it gives an hour by hour timer in case he falls asleep.
Which means he can't fall asleep.
It makes him hyperfocus on his own pulse as well.
Oh. And it's also waterproof. Huzzah.
Peter says he used it for when he gets a concussion or an infection or anything else and can't get medical attention quick. Matt's about one second in from asking the kid if he could get his own wristwatch before realizing that he'd probably need an auditory one rather than a visual one and the kid is already focusing way too hard on taking down Double-Helix for his liking.
That's fine.
He could probably ask at a later time.
"You can take the bed then if I'm not allowed to sleep," Matt mentions at one point. "Can't exactly fall asleep on the sofa. I've bled on it too much and the fabric is itchy as fuck."
He probably shouldn't have mentioned the first bit.
"Just cuz you can't sleep doesn't mean you should be uncomfortable," Peter says. "It would probably be for the best that you get work done while you're still....mostly lucid. I'm not sleeping as well. I have homework..."
Matt reaches out and does the grabby hands for his papers before slumping his shoulders in a huff. "Mostly lucid is not good enough. I need 100% focus for my cases."
"Then maybe you can document what you're feeling in a recording," Peter asks. "Or maybe talk about what you have for cases right now. Or we could chat about what we do in our suits."
"Why?" Oh god. He's resorted to whining.
"To pass the time?" Peter replies. "I also wanna learn a bit about what you do. I'm good at biology and chemistry, lil bit on engineering too, but science is one thing and law is another. That and you're kinda down for taking on Mr. Fisk. Both in and out of the mask. It's admirable."
He's gonna have to get used to the casual reminder that someone knows both sides of him.
Matt huffs and stands up, stumbling towards his bed and sitting on it, his back pressed right against the hard material of the headboard before patting the space next to him in invitation. Peter sits down.
He doesn't comment on how their shoulders are touching after the kid gets his laptop on his lap. Nor the lingering feeling of warmth that encompasses him.
He's only really surprised when Peter shoves the Spiderman mask on his head and asks Karen to monitor his brain activity.
The kid is careful, he's gonna have to give him that.
But he is so extra.
He can't help but give him a noodgie.
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"What do you think you're doing?"
Matt will not admit that he screamed.
But he totally did.
He thought the kid was asleep.
No. The kid was asleep.
But somehow, he wasn't.
Peter giggled at his predicament. He's half clothed in his Daredevil suit while the other lays sprawled on his bed.
His hearing aids. Fuck the hearing aids.
"You're not going out in this condition." Peter says. "Too many risks. You're practically swaying. Your hand eye coordination is messed up. Your stamina is pretty drained. You haven't had sleep since when exactly? Also you run the risk of being sprayed by another bout of gas unless your mask magically developed a filter. Is your suit even bulletproof?"
And because he has the mind of a child, he nods to the last bit out of spite.
"Can't let the bad guys get comfortable in my city. Can't take a day off like this." He grunts.
Even though he can't see him, Matt is pretty sure Peter is rolling his eyes. "You're making your people dependent on you. Give it a rest for a few days. So long as you stay unpredictable in your disappearances, similar effects will still take place. That is....unless you're running a time-sensitive investigation which...I could involve myself in."
Matt pulls out his hearing aids, wincing at the sudden influx of sounds.
"I'm listening to the whimpers of someone being tailed home right now. The tailer is presumably an ex-husband with a gun. Still want me to stay?" He challenges. Peter hesitates.
"Tell you what. Give me your phone, and I'll hook Karen up to it temporarily. You can tell me where and when the crime is and I'm gonna go and do the groundwork."
Matt makes a displeased sound.
"No way am I letting Stark in my phone."
Peter exhales loudly.
"Fine. You can have my drone. You talk. I listen. I'm assuming you can still hear me at normal levels in the crime ridden areas still."
"The scope is minimalized. I could be doing more."
"Or you could be doing less by getting yourself even more hurt. I have my very own danger tracker. I'll guard your territory for the moment while you heal."
Suddenly, there is a backpack being shoved in his hands. "Go change. And hold this for the moment. Effects of the drug implies that prolonged contact with someone would be best, but since I'll be gone, this'll be the next best thing."
Matt grips the offending object tightly. He's still cold.
"Karen can't monitor your brainwaves right now so it's best you keep yourself calm if possible. I have a feeling that it'll only take a few hours at most for the rest of the drug to flush from your system completely. Luckily, you didn't take in a lot of it."
Peter puts on the Spiderman gear in front of him. He hears a lot of shuffling and the silent mechanical whirr as it fits to size. A convenient way to put on the costume. Fast. Like the kid.
Spiderman moves to turn around and Matt grabs his shoulder. The kid tenses at the touch and he grudgingly lets go.
"Do you need anything?" Concern is leaking from his tone once more.
"I..." He wants to ask for something, but he's only met the younger for about a few days. This is weird. This is hella weird. It would even be weird to ask this from Foggy. Or Claire. Or any other friends of his. But his body aches for it. It's been too long.
"Hug." He forces out after a pause.
There's a pressure on his chest as Peter throws himself at him. "You have one helluva tolerance, Mr. Murdock." He doesn't need to explain himself and the kid doesn't need to ask. The hug itself lasts only a few seconds and, for once, the contact didn't feel too hot. It felt just right. There's a tightness inside that loosened.
He hugs back.
"Come back in one piece, Spidey." He whispers. "I'll teach you how to kick ass in the most efficient way possible when I'm all better."
"I'll hold you to that, sir."
@@@
Spiderman, despite keeping his cool the entire time they're together, is terrible at this. He's used to operating in the late ours of the afternoon, not in the early AMs. He's also used to either petty stealing or criminals who blare out their entire life stories with a single breath. Overt, eccentric, and stupid.
That's not how Hell's Kitchen operates.
He has to guide Spiderman towards a drunk driver in the middle of the streets. The intoxicated lady had enough braincells to obey most safety laws, only her driving is a tad too careless for his liking, with random intervals of wild acceleration and deceleration. He has to coach the kid on how to carefully pull out glass shards from someone who's been in a bar fight and to tell them to get their fists checked if they're wounded by the other's teeth. He has to tell him not to engage in an already tense turf war between two gangs who are eager to claim the power vacuum left by Fisk. He has to teach him how to leave enough evidence for police to find to actually convict the criminal rather than just assuming they'd trust his word.
It was exhausting, but it was also somewhat comforting.
He could air his grievances about society without fearing the other losing interest. He could complain all about how the masked life is taking away a lot of his time for socializing without getting blamed for putting on the suit. He could finally relate to someone even if they live in two different worlds.
If only that someone wasn't a kid.
The responsible thing would be to tell him to go home. Tell him to wait till he's an adult. He's reminded of Stick, training him till wee hours of the day as a ten year old child. He shoves all his childhood trauma down.
Matt Murdock is the epitome of a lack of self-care. The last thing he needs is his apathy getting the kid hurt.
Despite all this, Matt is proud. Spiderman is navigating his territory nicely. He's finding nooks and crannies that allow him faster access to more crime ridden areas. He's getting more alert on where to go without his guidance. His Spidey Sense is being honed in more and more ways as well.
Spiderman is good at improv too, it seems. He's good at heart control. He has a good eye for things. He uses some of his longer lasting webs to hold up crumbling buildings that Matt doesn't pay much attention to. He targets guns despite his suit being bulletproof to avoid stray bullets from hitting targets. He lays in the shadows when there isn't a crime taking place and watches as Sheila from the east coast tries to lure a child into a car in case she wasn't his real parent or guardian. He's good at this.
He's good.
He's scary good.
Matt realizes too late that the feeling in his chest, the place where loneliness used to settle during long and silent nights, has been replaced with affection.
He just accepts it with a shake of his head and buries his face in the kid's backpack and screams.
He almost falls asleep before the timer on his watch makes that awful, awful noise again.
He chokes on his own saliva when he takes a deep breath of that godawful sweet smell.
@@@
"Have to....work..."
Peter finds Matt face down on the floor. The man was mumbling, narrating everything and anything he could hear in an attempt to be efficient. His eyes are closed and his bruised forehead implies that he tried to bang it on a hard surface.
"Doctor.....bankrupt.....'bout to lose job....alcohol....lottery......mortgage..."
He managed to destroy his wrist watch. Well most functions other than the timer, which Peter had tried to destroy as well when he was running the streets before Mr. Stark picked him up so it's something he didn't fault the man for.
The alarm was no doubt being obnoxiously loud with his heightened senses too. It would be enough to drive anyone crazy.
"Uhhh...Mr. Murdock?" Spidey asks in lieu of greetings. "Do you...want me to lessen the volume of the alarm?"
"Blehhhhh." Matt mumbles. "Jonathan left the condoms in the fucking driveway. He should have known his priorities. It's the first time in a while they had the house all to themselves. Too much needless screaming."
Peter blushed hard. "Okay, maybe hearing everything isn't a blessing."
"You think?" Matt put the effort to bring his face up and glare at his general direction. "I have to listen to this. Every. Fucking. Night. I don't need this right now." He flops right back down, clutching the backpack to his chest once more. "I want to be temporarily deaf. Give me my sight back for just a few seconds. Make me normal for a bit so I don't have to hear Romeo banging his Juliet."
Peter shifts around awkwardly.
"Well....I brought some onigiri back with me. In case you want food." Peter paused. "You're not in any way allergic to rice and meat, are you?"
"Mlep."
"I need a clear and verbal answer, Mr. Murdock."
The lump on the ground hums before flipping over.
"No. How long do I have to wait till this hell is over, kid? Jesus Christ, I need caffeine so bad." He sulks.
"Well...." Peter mutters tiredly, sharing the sentiment quite a bit. "That depends on whether or not you're peeing or pooping right."
"What the fuck."
"And also if your appetite did not make any sudden changes."
"..."
"But if you're good with both of them and your nose didn't bleed at all then I can take the watch off of you. Your immune system definitely needs you to recover through sleep. Your temperature is normal now, but please alert me when you feel cold still."
"You're a bad doctor."
"I'm not a doctor."
"I want Claire."
"I don't know who that is."
"You're an okay caretaker."
"Thanks. I owned a frog once before performing a dissection on it for class."
"That's not making me feel better."
"Well neither is all your pouting, sir."
Peter took off his mask.
"I'm gonna have to have you wear this in your sleep. And I bought you a stuffed toy for your cuddle needs. My backpack can't be too comfortable."
"You bought me a stuffed toy," Matt repeats, incredulous.
"I bought you a stuffed toy." Peter nods. "I picked something extra soft too."
He throws it at the man on the ground who catches it out of reflex. He abandons the bag once his skin makes contact with the thing and he locks it in a tight grip.
Despite the hard wood on the ground, Matt feels his heavy eyelids start to close. The threat of the watch no longer chirping that godawful alarm is a relief like no other.
"Why are you on the floor again?"
"Just fucking leave me alone to suffer."
@@@
There's a pounding on the door. His face is warm for once and he feels....well he wouldn't say well rested, but less tired than before. He rips the Spiderman mask off his face and puts it in his pocket to take in a deep breath.
Only to pause as he realizes that he's probably skipped work again and Foggy is on the other side with majorly elevated blood pressure.
He feels around, his brain not on full percent just yet, and notices the specially made fabric of his bed. He hears the kid's heartbeat just a few feet away, most likely on his sofa. His stuffed bear has fallen on the ground and he resists the urge to pick it up and cuddle for another hour.
But most importantly, the scent of candy and hot stove is gone.
"Matt, I swear if you don't open this fucking door in five seconds, I'm barging in anyways!"
Foggy doesn't wait until the count of three until he's slamming the door open. He could hear Peter jump at the loud bang on the wall and he rushes towards the living room as the two have a stare off.
"Hi," the teen says, breaking the silence first and holding out a hand. "I'm Peter."
"Foggy Nelson," the other introduces, shaking it awkwardly. "Did my dumbass of a friend kidnap you?"
"No, I did not," He interrupts.
Foggy stared at Matt who made himself known, ready to go on a tangent before realizing that he has an audience. He looked at the teenager in his home and back at him again.
"Does he....does he know?"
Matt gives a long suffering sigh.
"Yes." "No."
The two glanced at each other before Peter winced. "I should probably keep my mouth shut from now on."
"You go do that," he deadpans. "Or your homework."
Peter's head moved to his phone in panic. "Oh god. It's the middle of the day."
"Yes, it's actually why I'm here." Foggy replies, putting emphasis on the second half of his sentence.
The kid looked at Foggy. "Mr. Nelson, Mr. Murdock is sick. I have lab this afternoon with Mr. Stark in a few. Please take care of him."
"He's....what?"
"No, I'm not."
Peter glared at Matt for a bit before rushing to get his backpack, hanging it on his shoulder, and running out of his front door.
"Rude," Matt sulks once more, wincing as Foggy grabs his ear and twists.
"You are going to explain everything."
@@@
"I'm sorry I'm late Mr Stark. I-"
"Save it, Parker. I am done with your shit today." Tony greets in an obnoxiously fake disappointed tone.
"There's this guy-"
"There's this guy?" He asks, suddenly a lot more interested.
"Not like that! He got sprayed by Double-Helix's stuff and I had to make sure he's fine."
"Any reason why you focused on him specifically and not literally any other victim?" He raises an eyebrow.
"He's...a mutant?" Peter scratches at the back of his neck. "At least....I think he is."
Tony looks up from where he was tinkering with DUM-E's spare parts.
"Underoos..."
"Yes?" Peter squeaked.
"Did you have a sleepover with Daredevil?"
"..."
"Karen, did he have a sleepover with Daredevil?"
"He did, in fact, have a sleepover with Daredevil, sir," Karen chimes in from the Holo-table.
"Snitch!"
"Peter! I told you not to follow creepy masked men to their creepy hideouts!"
"In my defense, he knocked on my front door first."
"What." Tony grinds out.
"He knows who I am too..."
"What."
"And he's listening in on this conversation outside right now."
"What?!”
"Sorry, Mr. Devil!"
"FRIDAY, dear. Please tell me you have a way for me to keep the creepy masked man away from my not-son."
"Do I have a say in th-"
"That does not involve taking away the suit again."
The screen on the Holo-table glowed.
[FRIDAY: Program Karen to automatically spray him with harmful chemicals. It'll be enough of a deterrent seeing as it's an obvious kink in his suit.]
"Great."
"Oh yeah. That reminds me. I could make him a filter so this doesn't happen again," Peter says in realization.
"Baby Spider, please. You're just ruining all my plans here to keep you safe. It's like you want him near you."
Peter turns his innocent eyes on him. "But I do want him near me."
"Oh god. No."
The teenager puts on a doe eyed expression. "Please? I don't want him to die."
"Are you sure that's your only reason?" Tony asked in suspicion.
"...No?" Peter looks away.
"Why then? Blackmail? Is he threatening you? I'm gonna go visit him. Maybe blow up his property."
The kid suddenly looks horrified. "Mr. Stark! That's illegal."
"You're illegal!"
"I didn't sign the Accords! Of course, I'm illegal! What does that have to do with this?!"
"That's not what I meant!"
"Then what did you mean exactly?" He asked, confused.
Tony felt like ripping his hair off. "You're fifteen."
"So?" Peter blinked.
"He's an adult."
"You're an adult."
"But......." Stubborn eyes met wide brown ones before relenting. "Fine. But you're letting me use the Baby Monitor Protocol on your suit for three months. No complaining. Not a word. No hacking it too or I'm not replacing your suit when it gets damaged."
"Great."
"And you might as well use the lab for supplies. I'd rather not have you deal with tetanus from stepping on a rusted nail in the dump."
"You're the best, Mr. Stark!"
Tony places an arm on his shoulder.
"I know I am, but you better quiet down. Happy already thinks I only keep you to feed my ego."
@@@
Peter googles how to write in braille when he gets home and sends the prototype to Daredevil's apartment with a grin.
He hopes he likes his present.
@@@
"I believe we didn't have a proper introduction before." Matt flashed his winning smile at the teen as he held out his hand. "Hi. My name is Mattew Murdock."
"Peter Parker," the other says, gripping it without hesitation. The decathlon team watched in curiosity as the two shook hands.
"Are you one of his guardians?" The teacher asked.
"No, sir. I'm just a regular lawyer. I figured I'd drop by after your student helped me with a certain little bug problem last week." He catches Peter smile. "Speaking of which, you really didn't have to do that. I owe you." He brings out a flashcard. "So if you ever need to make a call, I'll be there on the other side waiting."
Nelson and Murdock's. Defense Attorneys. Avocadoes of the Law.
"Mr. Murdock, isn't this supposed to be advocates of the law?" Peter asked.
Matt laughs. "Oh. It is. My partner just insisted otherwise. Despite our fame, he wanted our card informal. Keeps the customers relaxed, y'know?"
"Okay, but who the fuck is he? Ow. Michelle!"
"You really need to watch the news, Flash."
"Dude, you always have the coolest shit happening around you," one of the students, Ned, says. "I'm so glad we're friends."
@@@
The next time they meet in the suit, it was a lot more pleasant. Probably because they're in Spiderman's territory rather than Daredevil's.
"You can smell me, right? What do I smell like?" The kid rattles off.
"Teenage angst and brooding," he snarks.
"You sure that isn't you?" Peter sasses with a quirk of his lips.
"Yes. I am not a teenager."
"So you admit that you smell like angst and brooding in general?"
"Obviously. You smell like sunshine and rainbows, kid. If fact, you reek."
There was a screech as a man dressed up in a gaudy cloak cackled, throwing tear gas left and right. Daredevil seemed confused at first before taking on a defensive stance.
"What's with your crazies living up to their names, Spiderman?"
Peter shakes his head fondly.
"Welcome to Queens, Mr. Devil."