Matt vaulted upward onto the rooftop, landing in a crouch. Automatically tilting his head to listen, before he realized what he was doing. He shook himself as a shuddered breath escaped his chest. Fingers tightening their hold on the crumbling brick ledge until it was almost painful.
An explosion tore through the air drawing his attention towards Manhatten. Smoke and the sharp tang of blood filled the air. Sighing, he pushed himself up and over the ledge once more, using his billy club to swing toward the commotion.
Rapid clicks of metal on the ground coupled with a mechanical whir revealed several spiderlike robots tearing through the city. Arrows whistled through the air around him connecting with those that were pulling people from the shelter of buildings. He dropped down just as Captain America's shield flew over him connecting with a crunching sound. He jumped over one of them as they tried to capture him winding the wire around it before activating the stunner line, frying out the machine.
The familiar heartbeat ringing in his ears caused him to draw his teeth back in a snarl. Tearing into another mechanical attacker viciously before throwing himself into the glass window of a darkened storefront. "Octavius," he growled.
Chuckling darkly, "How unfortunate for you, it would have been better if you had stayed in your own kitchen,"
Raw hatred burned in his chest as his grip tightened on his billy club, "And you should have stayed dead," Never would he forgive this man for what he had done to Peter, stealing his life from him, forcing him to live with the fear it might someday happen again years after. Avoiding razor-sharp claws his foot connected with brutal force to the man's face. Several blows later he had the cord wrapped around the man's neck tightening it savagely. Ignoring the painful slicing of the claw across his abdomen and biting grip on his shoulder his fist slammed into the villain's face one last time.
Dragging the unconscious man into the street, he dropped him with disgust. Around him, the Avengers were assisting people and gathering the now deactivated octobots. Steve walked up to him cautiously, "Thanks for the assist, Devil," his eyes taking in the bloodied leather.
"Of course," he shrugged before pulling himself up onto a nearby fire escape. He was annoyed to find the hero was following him as he made his way up the building. "Was there something else, Captain," he grumbled.
Cap's face flushed as he scratched the back of his head, "You really saved us by finding Ock down there. The Avengers could really use you on the team," he tried.
Despite his injuries, Daredevil drew himself to his full height, "I'm not going to take his place," his jaw set, lips pulled into a frown.
Steve only nodded, "Right, sorry. Well the least I can do is have our medics patch you up," he offered.
"I'm fine Cap," he turned, preparing to return home.
"He was always so proud, you know? When he talked about how you were the strongest," Steve reminisced with a sad smile. The words caused the other man to freeze so he continued, "Said no matter how many hits you took, you could always be counted on to get back up,"
He knew the soldier was talking about more than fighting now, "Not like I have much choice," he said diving from the roof allowing far too much time to pass before he caught himself with the line. Biting back the cry that had nothing to do with his current physical state.
As he neared his building a thunderous heart echoed from the fire escape near his window. He landed heavily arms crossed, "Did you need back up on something," his nose catching the smell of spiced meat and curry.
"Nah just figured you haven't had dinner yet," a roughened voice answered as Punisher pulled the containers of food from his messenger bag.
The air was suddenly rich with the familiar scent of lamb and spices. The aroma dragged him back to quiet nights sitting on this very stairway, content in hearing the two beating hearts. Tensing for the briefest of moments, steeling himself, "Thanks but I need to patch myself up and call it a night,"
"I'll patch you eat," Frank insisted working the snaps of the leather top.
"I don't need to be looked after," he practically growled.
Another tug pulled the top free as the food was shoved into his hands, "Yeah well I gave my word," his tone somber, "to both of them actually," his hands worked carefully cleaning the large heavily bleeding wounds. It was a wonder the man was still standing but he just worked wordlessly for a moment, "They loved you, you know,"
Clenching his jaw once more, eyes squeezed shut behind the mask. It was that comment that finally forced him to relent. He picked up the food eating as he was being mended.
Long silence spun out between them as the torn flesh was pulled together carefully. The entire time Matt made no sounds of complaint beyond an occasional grunt. "I couldn't stand it when he bragged, but you know he always said you were the toughest of yous. No healing factor and still stronger than either of them," his voice softened as he remembered, "He complained that it was unfair you were so pretty AND strong. Called you their rock, always solid for them,"
"Thanks," as he climbed into his window, disappearing without another word. A bitter laugh escaped him as the leather top thumped to the ground. Yes, he was strong but never special like them. The world was cruel and made no sense. Both of them could heal, had come back from death. They had been remarkable, beautiful, superhuman, nothing like him. He was just a man alone in a world that was cruel and senseless.
He threw his mask onto the floor, kicking off his boots. His pants discarded in another heap. Making his way down the hall his body stilled at the bedroom door. This was the last place their combined scents lingered. Once the entire apartment had been filled with their essence, but now it was just him. He had not slept in this room in a long time afraid to lose this last link to them. Tonight he did not have it in him to fight the need to be close.
Drawing a breath he stepped into the bedroom, hit immediately by the scent of them the presence. With a trembling hand, he reached into a red and blue dresser, pulling out the faded ESU shirt. Shaking he pressed it to his nose before pulling it on, the soft material clung to his body. From the next dresser, he pulled out a soft pair of pajama bottoms, his fingers running over the worn Spider-man emblem. These too he held to his nose forcing another shudder through his body. Gritting his teeth as he hung his head. If only they could see him now, their "strong, tough rock"
Finally, he made his way to the bed he had not slept in since the night he lost them. It was much too big now, much too empty. Standing on what had been his side, remembering. All the times they had shared this bed, making love.
He remembered the feel of them against him. No matter what though he had always been on the outside arms holding onto them both tightly, always the big spoon. Sometimes, most times Peter had been in the middle, his smaller frame bracketed by the larger men. When he needed it though Wade was in the middle his face pressed to Matt's chest, with Peter's arm around his waist. Matt holding them both, both of them safe in his embrace, secure in his love.
He pushed the blankets down, climbing into the middle between both pillows. A single sob tore from his chest as he clung tightly to his pillow. Their smell surrounded him as the tears fell, shaking with grief. The one time he needed to be in the middle, neither of them was there to see as their rock finally began to crumble.