Becky was at war with the copy machine in the office and could not, for the time being, look at it without feeling what she described as ‘violent urges,’ and so MJ’s task for the day was reading the manual it came with and trying to figure out why it was so determined to destroy everything put into its many trays. It was going well. After two hours, Michelle had found that it was not every tray which had become a portal to paper-crunching hell; there were two trays that functioned perfectly adequately, provided prayers were said before and during printing.
Mr. Murdock slapped his hand on the desk and said that this was no problem, he’d been waiting his whole life for even one of his prayers to be answered. This was his opportunity.
Mr. Nelson thought that divine intervention was not the reliable fix-it they should strive for. He maintained that they should just call the company and ask for a maintenance guy.
Karen would die before a maintenance man walked into this building with all his ‘phallic gadgets.’ She thought she could fix it herself. Then, to keep her from attempting to fix anything, Mr. Nelson suddenly remembered that his cousin was, in fact, a tech maintenance guy at a local community college. Karen asked him, suspiciously, if this cousin intended to bring phallic tools into their currently female-dominated office space.
Foggy negotiated the admittance of tools in the case of his cousin’s failure to fix the problem without them.
This was allowed, but then interrupted by Peter throwing himself through the front door with Ned behind him, shrieking, “Double D, Old Man Chops is back!”
At first, this inspired nothing. No movement of any kind. But then Mr. Murdock said “He can’t be.”
“He is,” Peter insisted.
“That’s not a funny joke, kid,” Mr. Murdock said. Growing paler and slightly sweaty.
“It’s not a joke!”
“I can’t hear you.”
The jump to flat out denial was so sudden that it sent MJ’s head spinning.
“He is, Double D. For real. For real, for real,” Peter said.
Mr. Murdock moved to start shooing Peter out of the office.
“Coming in here, talkin’ nonsense. Who told you that? Did Wade tell you that? They’re just ghost stories, Peter. They aren’t real.”
Peter shoved at Matt’s arms until he let go of him.
“I saw him,” he said, desperately. Matt went stiff and rigid.
“No, you didn’t.”
“Yes, I did.
“Did he see you?”
The swing in the complete other direction was just as jarring as the denial.
“What? I—I dunno.”
“Fuck. Fuck. He definitely saw you—were you wearing the suit? Tell me you weren’t wearing the suit. If he comes up to you, you do not talk to him, you hear me?”
MJ looked around to make sure she wasn’t the only one out of the loop here. She wasn’t. It was a little comforting. She looked back at Peter, nodding his head frantically as Mr. Murdock gave him a list of things not to do in case of Old Man Chops.
Was he a bad guy? Like the crazy man on stilts who was, at present, hellbent on destroying Matt’s life? Was he a giant pork chop, this man? Some kind of homicidal butcher? She referred back to Foggy for edification, but he had nothing for her. He did, however, have guts.
“Hey, Matty, you wanna maybe share with the class about the boogey man?” he asked the interrogation crew.
Both Matt and Peter spun on the rest of them with owlish expressions. Peter deferred to Matt and Matt’s lip curled down a little at the thought of having to describe this person further.
“You know him,” Matt finally said.
Oh. Now that was a novelty. The last bad guy their teams had shared that MJ had actually known prior to enemy-declaration was Wilson Fisk.
“And his name is?” Foggy asked like there was a drumroll in there somewhere.
Peter opened his mouth but Matt grabbed his face before he could get a word out and hissed, “Don’t fucking say it, we both have dead dads.”
“Wolverine,” Wade said easily. The other two flinched back like he was playing with actual fire.
Matt refused to allow the name spoken in the office and had then refused to allow it spoken inside any building whatsoever and in his delirium of thought-policing, Karen had snuck behind everyone and called in a professional. An incredible turnaround from the day’s earlier mistrust.
Wade was unafraid of Wolverine, apparently, and he’d known instantly, as soon as Karen had said the word ‘chops,’ who Peter was referring to. Although, interestingly, he did not want to mention the man over the phone.
MJ was confused. She did know Wolverine. He was allegedly a good guy. Like, an almost Captain America-level good guy. Like, the superhero you thought of after you got past Iron Man. And more importantly dead. Wolverine was dead. Well-dead. Dead-dead. Making wormies and daisies, dead.
“That’s what he wants you to think,” Matt said a little desperately. “He always wants you to think he’s dead so when he comes back up—”
Wade popped up behind him with ‘ooga-booga’ noises and Matt freaked and punched him in the gut. The resulting argument seemed to imply to MJ that they would never know what happen when he comes back up.
She redirected her attention to Peter who was trying to melt away into the landscape. He caught her glance and then dropped it immediately.
“Wolverine’s dead,” she said directly to him.
Peter shook his head lightly.
“It was probably just some cosplayer, Peter,” Foggy said.
Peter shook his head harder this time.
“—don’t need a fuckin’ dad. I got my arms full of fuckin’ dads. Got the Father, Rudy from the gym, that weird guy at the bodega, the Lord God himself—”
Matt was having some feelings.
“—yes, yes,” Wade said over him, “But do you look like you don’t need a dad? Do you look like you had a shitty childhood?”
“No, I work very, very hard to look as marginally stable as possible. I have been perfecting this face since I was fifteen, Wade. I look like I need a counselor for domestic violence, not child abuse. They are completely separate faces.”
“Pal, I hate to break it to you, but what you see in your head and what I got here in front of me are even more separate than that.”
“DON’T SAY THAT.”
“Peter,” Foggy said kindly, finally tearing his attention away from those two numskulls, “What the fuck is going on?”
Peter did not want to say. Peter would rather chew pine needles than say, but he was easily bullied and the extra nudge Karen sent his way pushed him over the edge.
“They say that if you’re mutated and you don’t got a dad, if you say his name, he’ll appear and try to adopt you,” Peter mumbled.
What.
“Shut up, shut up, stop fucking talking about him,” Matt snapped over Wade’s flailing at him with more ‘ooga booga’ noises.
Evidently, Matt could attest to the veracity of these claims.
“I met him once,” Matt spat after some gentle prompting, “Count it—once—and before I knew it, this guy was everywhere, all, ‘Daredevil why are you doing this? Daredevil, aren’t you a bit young? Daredevil, why don’t you go home, champ? We can toss around a fucking baseball if that’ll make you feel wanted’—do I look like I feel unwanted? Foggy—I will know if you are lying. Ready, go.”
“Yes,” Foggy said without missing a beat.
Devastation. Despair. Distress.
Matt left them to go clutch at a wall and regroup for a minute. Wade went with him to make things worse. Peter watched them go anxiously.
“O...kay, so this guy’s back in the city and undead,” Ned said, “Big deal? Is there a—”
“I don’t want another dad, Ned,” Peter said miserably.
Uh. Well, first of all, tell that to Stark, MJ thought maybe a hint viciously.
“If he’s back, it means something huge is brewing and we just got done with Stiltman, man,” Peter continued.
The memory made Matt press himself even closer into the wall. Wade pried him off into an involuntary hug, and he was so upset, he just let it happen.
“Right. So, you don’t want to get caught up in it?” Ned said, “Is that why we’re avoiding him?”
“We aren’t avoiding him,” Matt said miserably, muffled by Wade’s huge arms. “It’s more than that. We are actively fleeing the territory.”
Woah. Big talk from Matt happening right now. Karen looked up at Wade who seemed to be the least rattled by this whole thing.
“Is he really that bad?” she asked him.
Wade stopped rocking Matt from side to side and hummed in thought.
“Wolvie and I got a complicated relationship,” he said. “Mostly consisting of the fact that the guy who fucked me up used his mutation to do it.”
Oh, dear. Right. So, then shouldn’t be Wade the one freaking out the most right now?
“Nah,” Wade said, “See, here’s the thing. If the old guy’s in town, it’s not a matter of if he’s on the hunt for enhanced people. It’s more of a matter of when he’s gonna find you.”
Matt started kind of dry-sobbing into Wade’s chest. Wade patted at him fondly.
“And when he finds you,” Wade said gleefully, “You will do whatever the fuck he asks you to and you will like it and you will end your experience with ‘gee, thanks, Dad 2.0. Sure glad to have you back with us for this particular version of the end of the world.’ And then he’ll fall off the face of the earth and you’ll be left to suffer with the freshly reopened wounds of your childhood and early-adolescence.”
Uh. So MJ was going to go out on a limb here and say that Wolverine was a walking guilt-trip.
Matt made a sound that told her she was right on the money.
It was actually kind of amazing, now that she knew what was going on, because it was as if the whole vigilante world came to an abrupt stand still in mere hours.
The news was very confused. The police were very confused. One of the people on Team Red must have passed the message onto someone who also passed it forward and so on and so forth until it was as though the whole underground said, altogether, ‘oh fuck that’ and scrambled off to a myriad of safehouses strewn throughout the city.
MJ sent Peter a text asking if he was okay.
PP: no one is okay. Mr. Stark has been cursing for an hour and I’ve got an escort home?
Holy shit.
MJ: is it really that bad?
NL: for real, Peter. Aren’t you guys kind of blowing this out of proportion? Wolverine is like, a good guy. He wants to help people.
PP: delete that text. Call him Logan. ONLY
PP: I’m fucking serious both of you delete it.
MJ: this is crazy parker
NL: okay okay its deleted. For real tho. You guys need to chill.
PP: this is not crazy. I do not want to get caught up in this shit. I am laying as low as I possibly can. Consider me your sentient naked mole rat friend. I am building a tunnel and emerging in spring
NL: it is spring
PP: I am building a tunnel and emerging in fall
NL: so you’re not gonna hibernate then
PP: I am building a tunnel and emerging NEXT spring
NL: do moles hibernate?
MJ: for real are we just not going to talk about it?
PP: yes sorry I am now horrendously busy. Good night.
NL: it’s seven
PP: GOOD NIGHT
Right. Next set of options.
MJ: hey foggy is matt still freaking out?
FN: yes ma’am. We have reached ‘hiding under the bed’ levels of trauma. 70/100, approaching 78/100 as we speak
MJ: he fits???
FN: very talented. He’s praying down there, I think. Wants to go to church but has decided that in the two block journey, he will be identified and accosted.
MJ: what is this??? Why are they all being so unbelievably dumb??
FN: I have no idea what’s happening MJ, I wish I had more to give you.
MJ: no, it’s okay. I’m sure it’ll pass.
FN: oh sure. A week or so to let W
FN: sorry I’m being told not to speak his name in verbal or written form
FN: anyways a week or so to let LOGAN clear out and all will probably be well. Cross our fingers at least.
There wasn’t any other information to get so she decided she’d sleep on it. Maybe that would bring clarity.
Maybe not.
For a minute, it seemed like sleep did everyone some good. She got to school and Peter was acting normal and she went to work the next afternoon and Matt was once again being Mr. Murdock and acting normal and she heard nothing about Wade or the Punisher or anyone else. The horror seemed to have passed safely through the city in the dark.
Thank god for that.
On May 1st, Wade found MJ and asked her where Peter was and she didn’t have an answer for him. She was also surprised. She’d always thought that Wade and Peter texted each other plenty on their own. Wade didn’t usually need to go around asking where his teammates were.
“Ah, well,” Wade said in disappointment, “I’ll try Red, then. If you see him can you tell him that we’ve got a job?”
Yeah, sure of course.
MJ: dude, wade said you guy have a job at 930 tonight? He said meet at the usual place. Is your phone broken or smth?
PP: do not talk to wade
MJ: ???
NL: peter you are starting to sound like
PP: he’s in cahoots w/ logan
MJ: ???????
NL: I was gonna say a spy but im leaning more towards conspiracy theorist now
MJ: dare I ask how you know?
PP: Doesn’t matter. Laying low.
MJ: What the hell?
MJ: Peter?
FN: hey mj—have you seen peter lately?
MJ: no. he’s turning into an ancient aliens specialist
FN: oh good matt’s approaching illuminati level (88/100 we are so close to full panic attack its amazing)
MJ: is this logan related by chance? Peter’s got it in his head that wade is in ‘cahoots’ with logan
FN: that explains a lot actually
FN: And I am now being told yes this is exactly the issue
FN: I guess matt wants to text peter to dissolve TR but is convinced his phone is bugged
MJ: WHAT
FN: idk he’s pretty upset about it. hold on lemme try wade’s team.
[FN has created the group Questions]
FN: hey dom this is nelson. These are spidey’s friends mj and ned, you met them a while back
NL: hi!! Is this a secret vigilante group chat??
NT: hi friends!! This is Dom! Our sociopath is acting strange!!
NT: even for him!!
NS: He is in a consistent mood.
NS: It is concerning.
FN: a consistent mood is concerning?
NT: yes our Wadeling is usually pretty flighty and distracted but lately he has been very very focused
NS: it’s almost like he’s taking his meds. A goddamn miracle.
NT: he’s not taking his meds ♡
FN: glad to know you guys keep track of that.
FN: hey do you happen to know if he’s hanging out with someone named logan?
NS: Can confirm.
NT: yes ♡
FN: great excellent. Do you also happen to know if there is a reason that he’s doing that?
NT: nope ♡
NS: Maybe, but I am not getting involved with that shit. No thanks.
NT: nate has x-men trauma ♡♡♡♡
NS: I have X-men trauma. We’re staying out of it.
FN: ??? okay?
NT: hey nelson can you send me a picture of you?
FN: why?
NT: no reason ♡
NS: She’s lying she wants to fuck your boy.
NT: and potentially you ♡♡♡♡
FN: I am uncomfortable thank you guys for your help
[FN, NL, and MJ have left the chat]
FN: so it would seem that peter and matt are on to something. Maybe you two can get some more out of pete?
MJ: I am sorry for your sexual harassment foggy. Yeah we’ll try to talk to him
FN: it is okay I am used to it. sometimes people are too beautiful to exist peacefully in this world.
NL: teach me how to be too beautiful to exist
FN: okay sure, step one. Find 2 obnoxiously attractive best friends
NL: done
MJ: I am flattered?
FN: step two: exist.
NL: okay? Done.
FN: congratulations you are too beautiful to exist. see you kids later!
NL: MJ
NL: I need to become mr. nelson
MJ: don’t we all?
MJ: peter I believe you. wade is in cahoots with logan. His people said he’s been hanging with him
PP: OH MY GOD THAT BASTARD I KNEW IT
PP: what do I do??? I fucked up guys, we got too close. He knows all my hiding places???
MJ: uh what
NL: more info pls
PP: ITS HIDE AND SEEK. WADE WILL FIND ME
PP: FUCK FUCK FUCK I TAKE IT BACK OH MY GOD
PP: oh my god
MJ: peter. Info pls
NL: ^
PP: he’s it
MJ: what
PP: he’s IT
MJ: who, wade?
PP: NO. LOGAN. HE PICKED WADE AS HIS 2ND. HE PROBABLY DAD-ED WADE INTO IT.
PP: that’s just low, logan. So so low. You jerk
NL: oh shit
MJ: there’s 2nds in hide and seek??
PP: I’ve already lost man. this sucks so bad i didn’t even have a chance wade how could you do this to us We trusted you
MJ: hey Fogs, so apparently logan is ‘it?’
FN: Hi, thanks. Relayed this info. matthew is now screaming. I am assuming in agreement. Thanks for this. I am being told now that it is our moral obligation to spread this information.
MJ: what
FN: I dunno but p sure we are now complicit
NL: wouldn’t that require us to have people’s phone numbers?
FN: no because we are talking about wade Wilson here so they are all probably bugged. We each just have to tell one person. I’m going to tell Jessica jones. Can you guys do me a favor and tell Clint Barton?
MJ: sure. Where does he live?
Clint Barton lived in Bed Stuy and he opened the door to his complex like a man expecting a delivery. He was not apparently expecting a couple of mangy kids staring up at him. He was way, way taller than MJ expected. He was like, pushing six three or something. He also had bandages all over his face and neck.
“Y’all selling something?” he asked.
“Uh, no. Foggy Nelson sent us,” Ned said for both of them. Barton’s only visible eyebrow raised and a dog head popped out from between his knee and the door frame. The dog panted up at him in droopy-tongued happiness.
“No,” Barton said directly down at it, “You have already eaten the trash today.” He trapped the dog against the door with his leg. “What’s Nelson got to say?” he asked. The dog swapped sides to try his luck with the other leg. “He’s got my cell, what’s the—”
“Foggy says that Logan is ‘it,’” MJ said.
Dead.
Silence.
Inhuman stillness. The dog stopped struggling and looked up at his now wide-eyed owner.
“Goddamnit,” Barton suddenly gasped. “Oh lord Jesus, no. Fuck. I’m gonna lose so bad, it ain’t even fuckin’ started—” He took several deep breaths, bent over in apparent pain. “Okay. Fine. This is fine. I’ll just—break out the catsuit, I guess. Ugh. Come on.”
“Uh. And,” Ned said. Hawkeye froze again in stricken anticipation, “Deadpool is his second.”
Hawkeye slowly, slowly lifted his eyes to the horizon. Then nodded mutely.
“Right,” he said. “Thank you. I’ll pass the word along. I just—after I move to New Zealand, I think. Whaddya think, Lucky? You wanna become a kiwi? Yeah, you do.”
He closed the door. Left Ned and MJ to stare up at it. Then to look at each other.
“You think we’re rigging this game?” Ned asked.
Yeah, probably.
May 4th came. Peter emerged out of his hibernation and pressed the top of his fist to his lips for the entire lunch period.
“I’m going to die,” he finally said right after the bell rang.
Peter finally, finally introduced them to the rules of hide and seek.
Rule 1. Stealth-suits only, day or night. Stealth could include streetclothes.
Rule 2. If you get caught, you join the it team.
Rule 3. Touching does not count as being ‘caught.’ Being ‘caught’ requires the back to meet flat ground for three full seconds.
That was it.
That was 100% it.
“Shouldn’t there be more rules?” Ned asked a little nervously. Peter gave him a dead-eyed stare.
“Rules are for losers,” he said.
Oh, dear god. Here we go.
Peter wore all black to school the next day. He wore two wrist-cuffs under which he’d hidden his webslingers. He gave off such an alarming ‘don’t fuck with me’ vibe that MJ saw some of their teachers discreetly making notes about a sudden shift in behavior.
Peter didn’t notice them; he was busy. He had eyes on every window and door. He had eyes on half the goddamn class. MJ did not understand. Was he expecting someone to just stand up and attack him? Would the It Team really stoop that low? To send a decoy or agent into a highschool classroom?
Peter evidently thought so.
Eyes everywhere. That guard was up and it was going to stay up, so help him God.
School went fine. Walking home turned into a nightmare. Peter’s way of walking towards the station took the exciting shape of moving forward while turning in circles. Paranoid.
They got onto the train. They stood on the train. A man reading a newspaper turned the page and Peter nearly leapt up onto the roof of the carriage.
Right. They were doing great.
Ned convinced Peter to clutch at the handrail in the middle of the seats before them and he crushed it between his fingers in his anxiety and didn’t even seem to realize it. Thankfully, no one else did either.
The man flipped his paper again.
Peter jolted like he’d been shocked.
Nothing happened.
God. How many days of this were there?
One stop away from their destination, the man with the newspaper stood up and both Ned and MJ had to bodily wrap themselves around Peter so he didn’t attack him before he could get off the train. With that man’s exit, Peter chilled out a teensie-weensie bit and they got to the station without further trouble.
In the station, Wade was waiting for them.
Peter saw him first. Of course he did, he was paranoid. Wade wasn’t wearing his red and black. He’d swapped that for an old, very comfy-looking leather jacket and jeans. He and Peter locked eyes and they both went still. Peter’s whole body went as taut as a pulled bowstring.
“Not today,” Peter whispered. And then, before MJ or Ned could stop him, he whipped around and leapt down onto the subway tracks and just started fucking gunning it into the tunnel. People on the platform panicked.
Wade threw himself over the gates, to everyone tagging in’s shock, and without even a lick of hesitation, darted between MJ and Ned and landed on the tracks. He headed off in Peter’s direction with terrifying speed, but then stopped and snapped his head behind him. People started screaming. A train’s light shone from that side of the tunnel.
MJ wasn’t sure what happened next because it all happened so fast, but one second, a train was hurtling full tilt at Wade and then the next second it was passing them all and people were shouting all over and then, in the relative quiet following the train’s slowing, she and Ned were found themselves staring at Wade, standing perfectly still, unharmed, on the opposite platform. His eyes were empty.
And then he was gone.
“This,” Ned gasped, “Is bad for my health.”
They rewarded themselves with ice cream to work through the trauma and then both almost passed out when Peter popped up right across from them looking…fine. He looked fine.
He stole a bite from MJ’s cup.
“Did you win?” she asked a little nervously. Peter put her little pink spoon back in place.
“Didn’t lose,” he said with determined eyes and brow. “Not yet.”
She was almost scared to go to work the next day but went anyways because Peter had spent the day rolling his shoulders and giving himself whispered pep talks. One day, he’d made it. He was very pleased with that. He told MJ and Ned that if he lasted three, he would consider it an accomplishment.
Matt was sitting at his desk when MJ got in, in all black clothes, dropping everything he picked up. Foggy and Karen took turns going in to check on him. He stared straight ahead and responded to no one’s voice.
MJ realized that he was listening to everything around them, the office, the building. He was so tuned into all that, that he couldn’t focus on the words circulating in front of him.
Hyper-awareness.
Do not touch.
“He looks like he’s gonna have an aneurysm,” she whispered to Becky.
“You should have seen him this morning,” Becky whispered back.
Matt was not capable of meeting with clients in that moment, so he was relegated to paperwork duty. He didn’t do any paperwork, since he wasn’t even really present, but that was his job for the day. Nice, light, and easy.
Low stress.
Stress came a-knocking right after they’d closed up.
Foggy went to go tell the person that they were closed for the day, but Matt rushed out of his office and herded Fogs back from the door. He sniffed at it and waited. The knock sounded again.
“Matthew?”
Oh, that was?
“Fuck off, girl.”
Wow. What a way to talk to your sister.
“They caught your girl friend with the scarf.”
Who?
Matt made a fist and a soft sound of empathy for whoever Elektra was referring to. He relented and went to open the door, then froze at the last second.
“Matthew?” Elektra asked through the door at his hesitancy.
He took a step back. Then another. Then another.
“Bad weather,” he said.
“It’s pretty stormy,” Elektra said on the other side.
“Gonna rain?”
“You tell me.”
“Noted.”
Silence. Then the sound of footsteps leaving. Matt waited two beats and then threw open the window closest to his office and went and slid himself against the space by the doorstop. Foggy started to ask him what the fuck he was doing, when the door crashed open and ricocheted against the doorstop right at Matt’s foot. He’d vanished behind the door’s wood and glass. Somehow, his shadow had melted into the wall with him.
Goddamn. He was good.
“Heya Nelson,” Wade said with a wide, slightly manic grin. He stayed just a few feet in from the doorway. He gave no indication that he was apologetic for the collective heart attack he’d just given them all.
“H-hey, Wade,” Foggy managed.
“Where’s your boo, huh? He ain’t answering my calls,” Wade drawled.
Wade was usually so amiable, to hear him talking low and slow made the whole room feel hotter and colder at the same time. Foggy was very bad at lying and very busy trying not to crack his jaw with how hard he had his teeth clenched.
Wade beamed at him, up and down, and then turned around and did the same with everyone else in the room. He gave MJ a fond, gentle squeeze on the shoulder.
“Saw you yesterday, honey. Must have been a bit of a shock,” he said kindly.
MJ decided that she didn’t like it when Wade was working for other people.
“I thought you didn’t like Logan?” she stammered.
Wade’s smile did something weird.
“I never said that,” he said. “I said our relationship is complicated. But you know, me and Wolvie go waaaaaay back.”
Did they now?
“Yes, ma’am. Guy’s like a grumpy grandpa to me.”
Oh, good. Nice of you to neglect to mention that last month.
“Anyways. Red? Come out, come out, wherever you are, precious little ninja baby—”
Wade ripped the door back, but the space was empty. MJ could practically choke on her relief. Wade was undeterred. In fact, he seemed delighted at Matt’s absence.
“Olly olly oxen free,” he sang into the rafters of the room.
Nothing.
Nothing.
“Heya Wade.”
Wade’s swords came out of fucking nowhere and the clang of them hitting the sides of Matt’s clubs was deafening. The sudden appearance of weapons and bodies was so surreal that it felt like MJ had just blinked herself into a graphic novel.
“Get on your back,” Wade snarled, pushing forward. Matt put his everything in to pushing back and keeping those hands occupied.
“Never,” Matt said from between gritted teeth.
“We both know how this is gonna go, Redthew.”
“No,” Matt said.
Wade pushed hard into the swords and he had at least forty, maybe even fifty pounds on Matt. Matt’s boots scraped the hardwood floor as he was pushed back.
“Come on, kiddo. You know you wanna play,” Wade said, “We work better as a team.”
Wade was pushing Matt to the wall, to a corner. Where he wouldn’t be able to get up once he fell. Matt seemed to know this and about a yard from the wall, dropped his hold on the clubs, which overbalanced Wade. He ducked under Wade’s falling arm and nearly made it clear, but Wade moved his arm just so and caught him in the shoulder. He sunk his fingers in and fucked up Matt’s smooth escape.
Matt, for his part, handled this like a champ. He dropped into a half-roll and then shoved himself up hard and caught himself back on his feet. And before Wade could get another grip on him, he was out the front door and then out the small window half-opened across the way in the hall.
Wade stood up out of his hunter’s hunch, and steadied himself. Then laughed. He noticed the others, all stiff with horror, in the room.
“I ain’t gonna hurt any of ‘em,” he said. “Old man said no bruises.”
What.
“He’s grumpy. Not cruel.”
What??
Wade laughed again.
“Everyone’s so squirmy,” he said to himself on the way out the door. He closed the small window Matt had jumped out of before taking the stairs down to ground level.
“I,” Karen announced, “Need a drink.”
Peter was actually about to explode at his desk in first period the next day.
“Day three, day three, day three,” he whimpered to himself. He revealed at lunch that he’d run into Logan the previous evening.
“He’s so fast,” Peter sobbed. “So fast. So short, but so fast, I thought it was all over.”
“How’d you get away?” Ned asked.
“Castle saw me.”
“Castle?”
“Yeah, he grabbed me and let me stay with him for a minute. Guys, he’s so scary. I totally get why they called him Wolverine.”
Right.
Peter came with MJ to check in on the other third of Team Red, the trustworthy third. Matt was just as jittery as Peter.
“Me too,” he told Peter. “I ran into him yesterday, too. Fucking Logan, god. He sent Jess after me. You know how high that girl can jump?” he shuddered. “And then she caught Danny because he’s a moron and before I knew it, I was halfway to the Bronx. Nearly got taken out by a goddamn bicycle, man. Not a cute way to go. Sensei would kick my ass for that one.”
“Wait, Jess caught Danny?” Peter said.
“Yeah, and so obviously Luke, too. So basically, I am fucked.”
MJ hadn’t really known how close Matt was with his other super-friends until that moment. He didn’t talk about them much.
“Man, they know where you live,” Peter said.
“Tell me about it,” Matt sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. “How about you? You’re already doing better than last year.”
What had happened last year?
“Castle helped me out last night, if it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have made it.”
“Bummer.”
“S’alright, he was nice enough about it.”
“He in the Kitchen or Queens?”
“Queens last night. Barton’s hiding out with the Widow down south.”
“No shit?”
“No shit. She’s real mad.”
Matt laughed.
“Yeah, I’ll bet. Especially after all the work she put into it last year.”
“I like this year better. Mind games are hard.”
“I think you mean fun,” Matt said with a grin.
“No, I just mean hard,” Peter snapped.
Dear god, what had happened last year?
Someone down the hall coughed and both Matt and Peter lit up like live wires.
“Right, time to go,” Matt decided.
“You going out tonight?” Peter asked. Neither of them looked at each other, or in Matt’s case pretended to. Both were fixated on the door.
“No choice.”
“Be careful. I’ll be sticking close to home if you need me.”
“Same for you. Text me if you need anything. Hey, stay away from Bishop. I got a feeling about her.”
“Copy that.”
This was the worst game of hide and seek MJ had ever been witness to. It was more like death-tag.
She thought everything would be fine. She went out to get her mom a can of condensed milk from the corner store and found herself staring at a half-circle of Jessica Jones, Danny Rand, and Luke Cage, all talking quietly to someone standing in front of them. She couldn’t see who it was through their bodies, but she had a feeling she already knew.
She swallowed and decided that she might accidently go to the wrong store. The one on the other side of that half-moon. She took a deep breath and put on her resting bitch face and started off that way, past the group.
“—at home. Tried the window, no dice.”
“—ktra can lure—”
“No, Wade’ll do it.”
“But don’t you need Wade for Barnes?”
“—not playing—”
“—kid’s still out there—”
She let out the breath when she got into the ‘wrong’ store. God. So stressful. So those three were definitely still looking for Matt, but they also needed to get Bucky Barnes? She did not envy whoever’s job that was going to be.
She found that actually, this store did have condensed milk, so that was a plus. She got a can and headed back out, fully intending to walk subtly past the group again, but they weren’t there. She couldn’t help but pout a little. That was no fun. Eavesdropping was exciting.
MJ wasn’t there when Peter went down, but she knew that he did because he came to school the next day covered head to toe in scrapes and scratches.
“Kate is always so mean,” he informed MJ and Ned.
“Kate?” MJ repeated.
“Bishop,” Peter grumbled.
“Did she attack you?” Ned asked.
Peter huffed and rested his chin on the heels of his palms. “No. Wade pushed me into the damn river.”
Aw, Wade. That was a cheap shot.
“I know, right? Not fair. Anyways. He wouldn’t let me back onto shore until I gave in.”
Rude.
“I know. He’s such a jerk. Anyways. Logan’s making me catch Kate. And she’s bigger than me.”
MJ couldn’t hide her giggling and hers set Ned off. Peter glared at both of them.
“I lasted three and a half days,” he snapped. “I deserve a medal. You know how big these people are? You ever stood toe to toe with Frank Castle?”
No, Pete.
“Well, guess what? He’s huge. I found him—and I should get props for finding him, by the way--he was under the pier. You know how scary it is down there? So many buggies. Yick. Anyways. He laughed at me—laughed at me, guys. And then he just walked off? Like?? I am just as valid a seeker as anyone else?? I have so much sand in my shoes and all for nothing.”
Uh-huh. Sure, Parker.
MJ was so relieved that Peter was no longer hiding in dumpsters and falling into rivers.
“Did someone catch Matt yet?” she asked.
Peter jerked his head at her, completely serious.
“No,” he said, “But someone’s gonna.”
Not a chance in hell, Peter. But dream big man, dream big.
MJ: is matt still alive?
FN: matt is having a breakdown in many places all at once.
MJ: which I take to mean that he’s one of the last guys standing?
FN: he and barton have teamed up as Team ADA.
MJ: wow.
FN: yeah. Pretty sure they’re both just clinging to each other in the trash somewhere. Wade got Barnes the other night and he’s a fucking hellhound. They don’t stand a chance.
NL: oh my god. They should be proud to have made it so far.
FN: mmmmmm
FN: I think they’re both regretting it if I’m honest. It’s the two of them, Castle, and I think? Some white knight guy? I dunno, Matt said he’s a bag of cats and not allowed in their dumpster.
FN: there might be one or two X-men still bopping around too, but they won’t last with Logan’s handling of things.
So apparently there were vigilantes which even scared other vigilantes. That was impressive.
MJ: I mean, send him our love and support I guess? Peter’s decided he’s gonna find him.
FN: HA. Good luck, Pete.
MJ and Ned totally, completely by accident, found Matt and Barton. The two of them were exhausted and holding their heads in a Denny’s. MJ just barely saw Barton’s blond mop when she’d passed by the window.
They seemed to be having a very slow, very quiet conversation over two cups of coffee and nothing else.
True desperation.
“Maybe they’re planning how they’re gonna give themselves up?” Ned thought.
Mmmm. Unlikely.
“Should we tell Peter?” she asked. They kind of were on his team.
Ned looked at her and thought about it.
“Nah,” he said. “It’s not our game.”
Sorry Parker.
“YOU SAW THEM.”
“Yeah.”
“You guys are the fucking worst.”
“Yeah.”
“UGH. I’m telling Wade.”
MJ was filing paperwork when Sergeant Barnes came into the firm and cornered Foggy. He was not above intimidation tactics. He offered Foggy the choice of giving up information or becoming a hostage which was pretty scary. Foggy asked him if he liked his rap sheet as it was.
There was a long pause.
“Well played, Nelson,” Barnes said with a thick accent and quirked up smile. “You got guts.”
“No, I just have all your personal details,” Foggy said.
Barnes laughed.
“When I catch him, I’ll bring him home to you,” he said.
“Yeah, if you catch him,” Foggy said. Nothing but blind faith in his boyfriend. Barnes laughed again and then asked Karen if she’d be willing to budge on Castle.
“I think he’s in Virginia,” she said offhandedly.
That broke the sergeant.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. Told me he was bored. Left town last night.”
“What the fuck. Are you bluffin’, lady?”
“I can shoot you and we can find out?”
Karen was hardcore. MJ wanted to grow up to be like Karen. With less alcoholism.
“Foggy, I need clarity.”
Oh. Well, look what the cat dragged in.
“You look like shit,” Foggy said, barely glancing up.
“I knooooooow.” Matt collapsed in front of the reception desk and bowed his back over it. Foggy grimaced.
“You smell like shit, too,” he said.
“More than aware, my dear non-enhanced friend,” Matt moaned, “Listen. I need clarity. Is it better to torture myself with this nightmare or just take third?”
This man was wild.
“What are the benefits of taking third?” Foggy asked, opening the window behind Becky’s desk to deal with Matt’s dumpster reek.
“Benefits are that this disaster comes to an end, my friends stop hunting me, I get a shower, and I let Peter catch me so he feels proud of himself.”
Aw. Peter, these old people love you.
“And enduring the nightmare?,” Foggy asked next, “What are those benefits?”
Matt blinked at nothing and then rubbed at his chin. One of his pinkies was purple and stiff.
“I…win?”
“I dunno, Matty. Seems like a hard choice,” Foggy said sardonically. Matt tried to find his face. He looked so, so sad.
“Light of my life, you’re about to be an idiot, aren’t you?” Foggy said patiently.
“Barton is taller than me,” Matt said sadly.
“Matthew.”
“If he switches sides, I’m done.”
“Matthew, really?”
“Frank, too, Foggy. He went to Virginia and just came back? Like? Talk about a power move??”
MJ would think that this would be disqualification, but maybe not?
“They are very tall, Foggy. I am very tired.”
“Matt. You do not have to win everything you do.”
“But sensei—”
“Matthew.”
Matt huffed and crossed his arms across his chest.
“Fine,” he said. Then stood up. “I’ll just play dirty.”
“Take a shower,” Foggy called after him.
It was Saturday. This game had been going on for nearly a week. Peter texted MJ and Ned that he and Barnes had gone out hunting and Barton had popped up and declared defeat. He’d had enough. He needed to feed his dog. This left Matt and Frank Castle, vying for first.
“Matt’s got no chance,” Peter sighed over bubble tea. “He’s just languishing at this point. Biding time. Logan’ll sniff him out. He’s got a dead dad.”
The logic here had surpassed MJ’s comprehension long ago.
“Why wouldn’t Wade find him?” Ned asked.
Peter sucked at his neon green milk tea and thought about it.
“I don’t think Wade wants to hurt his feelings,” he said.
“He might be relieved if it’s Wade,” Ned pointed out.
“Mm. Maybe. I think he’d probably be happiest if it was the Widow, actually. She only got caught because she was with Barnes.”
Wade must have been so proud of himself.
“Anyways we all know Castle’s gonna—”
Peter paused and dug out his phone.
“Oh shit,” he said.
The others craned their necks over the table until he shook his head and read the text aloud.
“Castle’s called it in. Said he forgot he was playing.”
Incredible.
“So that means that Matt won?” MJ asked.
“Yeah,” Peter said, “Holy shit. I bet he’s happy. Hey, we should take him a bubble tea.”
Someone, somewhere must have told Matt of his magnificent win. But by the time they made it out to some kind of secret vigilante meeting place, he seemed to worked his way through being happy. He looked freshly showered, which spoke more about his priorities than anything MJ could think of.
I have won, Matt Murdock said, and now fuck your game. I am filthy and there is no greater insult to my being.
He was good and done with everyone and wanted no congratulations. He wanted a nap. He wanted people to stop fucking touching him. He wanted use Wade’s back like a punching bag and call him a traitor on a loop for an hour.
But most of all, he did not want Wolverine to be within two yards of him, which honestly? Was probably the singular force which had gotten him as far in this game as he had. Wade was mediating. Matt was hissing. The only man who could be Wolverine, squat guy with huge mutton chops, watched this hissing with mild interest. He leaned a bit to see around Wade’s massive body and Matt, even though he could not see him, crammed himself into Wade’s opposite armpit so as to escape the guy’s field of vision.
Wade casually informed Wolverine that he now had undeniable proof that his armpit was more desirable than Wolverine’s presence.
Wolverine gave him a long, slow look which spoke of years of regret for their mutual association.
“Sometimes you make me so tired, Wade,” the old guy said.
“No, grandpa, that’s just the age,” Wade told him kindly.
“Watch it, boy.”
“Oh, say it again, daddy.”
Peter squirmed between all the well-wishers with flagrant disrespect for his person and offered Matt the bubble tea they’d gotten him. MJ and Ned had decided that he looked like a taro kind of guy. They were correct. The hissing paused. Tea was accepted. Peter got fond pats.
MJ couldn’t help but wonder if Matt was even a little happy with his new title. He didn’t look it.
“I should have just called it in,” Matt told them later in the quiet of his apartment with his newfound love: the bubble tea. “Frank would be far more miserable if people were trying to congratulate him. And anyways, this means that I’m it next year and that sucks ass.”
Woah, woah, woah. Hold it right there. If the winner became ‘it’ for the next year, wouldn’t mean that Wolverine would have had to have won last year?
There was a thoughtful pause.
“Well, we honestly didn’t know he was even playing until halfway through,” Matt admitted. “Everyone thought he’d kicked it and just come back for a month or so, ‘cause that’s how he is, and then, ‘cause he is literally everyone’s worst parental nightmare, no one wanted to touch him, so yeah. He kind of won by default.”
MJ could not with these people.
“He really ruined it for Nat,” Matt said a little sadly. “Last year was so much harder.”
Peter moaned and hid in his arms at the memory.
“Who’ll be your second, then?” Ned asked. Matt thought about it. Foggy appeared to throw an enormous throw blanket on him with a baby-blue Columbia Lion on one side.
“I dunno. Maybe Jess. Oh. Actually, maybe Elektra. That could be fun.”
Deadly.
“That’s what I said. Fun.”
“You should tag team with Castle,” Foggy said off-handedly. “No one will win.”
“No, I wanna rig it so Barnes wins,” Matt said. “His run will be actual torture.”
“Matt, no,” Peter begged.
“You can rig it?” Ned asked. Matt huffed.
“No rule that says you can’t.”
Someone save these people from themselves.