Tags: Darejones; Salt Mates = Soul Mates; "If you're a sarcastic smartass, colour in with me, because I am too!"; Battlin' Jack Murdock; Brian and Alyssa Jones; Jessica Doesn't Like Bullies; Matt is Exasperated; Slow Burn; Chosen Family; Blood Family; Cross-Posted from ArchiveofourOwn.
Matt Murdock is five years old when he makes his first friend. Her name is Jessica Jones, her hair is braided tightly back from her face, she has a gap between her front teeth, and it starts with an argument of the proper placement of the bucket of pencils on the table they're sharing.
"They're supposed to be in the middle!" Jessica says, yanking the bucket from his grip and setting them there. Her eyes are hazel, and narrowed in her anger.
Matt narrows his eyes right back at her. "And that is not the middle," he says, pointing at the bucket. "This–" he reaches across the desk, tapping the centre –"is the middle."
The argument continues for another five minutes, before Mrs. Allan intervenes, putting the bucket at the edge of the desk closest to the front of the classroom.
"That," she says, sternly, "is enough."
But maybe Matt's grandma is right, when she looks at him and his father and says, with a voice caught between laughter and tears, "Murdock boys, always got the devil in you", because the second Mrs. Allan turns her back, he can't resist the urge to tug the bucket back to where it should be.
He doesn't expect for Jessica's fingers to close around his, her eyebrows drawn into a frown, lips pursed. He thinks that's the word for what her mouth is doing.
"Right!" Mrs. Allan snaps. "Matt, ten minutes in that corner. Jessica, ten minutes in that corner. I want you to think very hard about what you've just done."
Slowly, Matt stands and shuffles to the corner that Mrs. Allan is pointing at.
He'd so obviously been right. You were supposed to put the bucket into the middle, so that both kids could reach them. Why couldn't she see that?
Two minutes into quiet time, and Matt can almost hear his Dad's sigh. Kid, what have I told you about pickin' fights?
He bites his lip. This was not how he'd planned for his first day of kindergarten to go. Make friends, be good, it'll be okay, had been what Dad said.
He glances at Jessica. She's shifting on her feet, not the way the boxers at Dad's gym do. It's different; lighter, more nervous, less confident.
Her eyes meet his, and she looks– startled? Embarrassed?
She bites her lip and her head snaps back to face the wall.
Matt sighs, and stares at his corner. It's less interesting.
Maybe they could have been friends, he thinks, gloom rolling across him like a storm front.
They're let out of their corners, ten minutes later, and then it's time for recess. The playground is mostly grey, except for one spot over to the right, which is covered in colourful rubber beneath the monkey bars.
He doesn't expect Jessica to walk up to him, her lunchbox in her hand. Silently, she opens it and offers him the juice pouch.
What? I thought you didn't want to be friends.
"The teacher was being stupid," she says.
It's not an apology, but Matt will take that.
"Totally stupid," Matt agrees, taking the juice pouch. "Thanks."
She smiles, and the next ten minutes are spent hurrying through their snacks because Jessica wants to try out the monkey bars.
By the end of the day, Matt knows five things about Jessica. She has a brother called Phil, and her Dad cried a tiny little bit when she came to school today, for some reason. Dads are weird. Her favourite colour is purple, and out of the juice pouches, the berry juice pouches are her favourite, but no juice pouch is as good as the granola bars that her Mom sometimes makes.
They are sitting in the corner by the book shelf, steadily working their way through Flat Stanley.
"He really should have a bruise or something," Jessica tells him. Her shoes have been kicked off, and her hair is falling out of its braid.
"Not a bruise. Lots of them," Matt corrects her.
"Like that guy?" Jessica asks, pointing at the door of the classroom.
Matt glances up to find his Dad hovering in the doorway of the classroom. The bruise around his eye has faded to a greenish colour.
"Hi, Dad," Matt grins at him.
"Hey, Matty. You having fun?"
"Flat Stanley should be a giant bruise," Matt tells Dad.
Dad looks the same way he does when he finds Matt reading the dictionary. "Prob'ly," he agrees, walking over to them. "What's your name, little miss?"
Jessica tilts her head to the side, mouth pursed a little as she looks at his Dad. He looks back at her, steadily, and Matt's reminded of the way the boxers in the ring at each other look before the fight. Feeling each other out.
"Jessica," she says.
"Hi, Jessica. I'm Jack Murdock," he says, sticking out his hand.
Slowly, Jessica takes Dad's hand, and shakes it. "Hi, Jack."
There's something warm curling through Matt's chest, like when his Dad kisses his forehead, at the way they nod at each other. It curls up his chest, up into his face, tugs his mouth into a smile.
Then Dad ruffles Matt's hair. "Time to go to Mrs F.'s place, kiddo."
Matt glances at Jessica, worry flickering through him. "But Dad–"
"C'mon, Matty," Dad says, plucking the book from his hands and setting it on the shelf. "Time to go. You have school again tomorrow."
Jessica sighs beside Matt, and wraps one arm around his shoulder, then draws it back quickly. "Sit together tomorrow?"
Matt smiles back at her. "Yeah, tomorrow."
Dad is chuckling beside Matt, pulling him to his feet. "C'mon, slugger. Time to go, where's your backpack?"
They find it, and Jessica reluctantly puts her shoes on at Jack's suggestion, because her parents will be there pretty soon as well.
"Bye, Jess!" Matt yells, at the doorway.
"Bye, Matt!"
Tuesday, and there they are, Matty and his friend, curled up in the reading corner. The book cover is different, though. It's green, not purple, today.
He bumps into another man trying to get through the door, and has to steady him.
"Sorry 'bout that," Jack says.
The guy smiles. He's maybe 5"10, in a T-shirt and dark jeans, not much older than Jack. He does a bit of a double-take when he sees Jack's face, though, and whistles.
"Damn. Please tell me you gave the other guy hell."
Jack sighs. "I like to think so. Matt! Kiddo, time to put the book away!"
Matt, predictably, does not hear him, even though Jack knows for a fact that his voice was pitched at the right volume.
The guy looks a little startled at that. "Matt's your kid?"
Jack can't help but frown at that. "He startin' to get a rep already?"
"Jessie didn't stop talking about him all night last night," the guy says, with a wry smile. "She was very excited."
Ohh, that makes a lot more sense. Jack lets out a sigh, as relief courses through his system.
"Jack Murdock," he says, extending his hand.
The guy takes it. His grip is firm, callused, wedding band on the fourth finger. Not another single Dad, then. Grease under the nails. Mechanic?
"Brian Jones," he says. "Guess it's time to pull them away, huh?"
"Seems so," Jack sighs, massaging his temple.
The puppy dog eyes are even worse today than they were yesterday, despite the fact that Matt's seen his friend again today.
"Nobody warned us that our kids would imprint on other kids," Brian tells Jack, dryly, before Jack can warn him of his danger.
Sure enough, Matty perks right up, his eyes bright and sparking. Jessica watches the reaction, a smirk tugging at her mouth.
"What's imprinting?" Matt asks, and as Brian's jaw goes a little slack, Jack feels a twinge of satisfaction that he's not the only one who struggles to keep up with his terrifyingly intelligent son.
By the end of the week, Jessica has somehow talked both their Dads into letting Matt go to the Jones' place on Friday.
"How did you do that?" Matt asks her, as soon as the grown-ups are out of earshot.
Jessica tugs at her braid, looking at him with wide eyes. But the corners of her mouth are tilted up.
"Do what?" she asks.
"Make them let us go to your place!" Matt says, giving her braid a single tug. Gently, though. Robby F. had been pulling Lisa Chang's pigtails so hard that she'd cried, which was awful, and the thought of Jessica crying sends something painful through Matt's chest.
Jessica bats his hand away, sticking out her tongue at him.
"I dunno," she says, looking down at her shoes. They have purple laces, tied in neat little bows. "I just asked."
Matt feels pretty sure there was more to it than that, but Jessica's cheeks are going pink, and she's looking away from him. So instead, he asks, "What's your little brother like?"
Jessica's nose wrinkles. "Tiny. Mom says he'll be two soon. He cries a lot."
"Did you want a little brother?"
She nods. "When Mom and Dad told me. But they didn't tell me how much he'd cry!"
Matt snorts. "You probably cried a lot."
"Did not."
"Did too."
"Did not."
"Did too," Matt says, his smile widening.
"Did not," Jessica says, very firmly, but her smile widens too.
"We should watch The Aristocats," Jessica tells Matt, as they walk in the door of her apartment.
"What's that about?" Matt asks her. Jessica dumps her backpack in the doorway, and her Dad clears his throat.
"Jessica."
"Dad," she whines, but she picks her backpack up, and gestures at Matt to follow her. They leave their backpacks in her room, and she drags him back into the main room of the apartment. It's nice. Lots of greys, and splashes of bright colour where Jessica's toys are stored in boxes on the shelves.
"What's it about?" Matt asks her again.
"What?"
"The Aristocats. What's it about?"
"Cats. Who sing. In Paris," Jessica says, her smile widening, each phrase coming out with a little more to it when Matt seems unimpressed.
"Singing cats in Paris," Matt repeats, just to make sure he heard right.
"Uh-huh! It's fun."
Matt looks at where their Dads are talking in the kitchen. "Do we need to ask them?" he asks.
Jessica shakes her head again and grabs his hand, pulling him towards the VCR.
"Okay, okay," Matt laughs, as she tugs him towards the pile of videos. Sure enough, there's one with a bright orange cat and a pretty white cat on the front cover, as well as several kittens and an old man on the cover. "This the one?"
Jessica nods, and Matt discovers that watching videos is better with a friend.
"I'm home!" comes a voice from near the door. Jessica's face lights up, and she launches herself from the couch, before pelting across the apartment. Matt slides off the couch and walks around, frowning as he takes in the scene.
Jessica is wrapped around the new person's hips. The woman is tall, with long, pale brown hair in a ponytail. She's wearing dark blue pants and a pretty dark green blouse. It's the same colour as Lopez' from Fogwell's costume.
The woman is chuckling, running her hand over Jessica's hair.
"Hi, sweetheart."
"Mommy, Matt came!" Jessica says, smiling up at her.
Jessica's Mom glances up and her eyes meet his.
Matt waves. Why hadn't he just hidden behind the couch?
"Hi, honey," Jessica's Dad says, quickly kissing her on the lips. "Good day?"
"My freshmen refuse to listen, but what else is new?" she says, smiling at him. She turns to Matt's Dad, one hand extended already. "You must be Jack. I'm Alyssa."
Dad shakes her hand, looking amused and a little worried. "Hi. Hope we haven't put you on the spot, or anythin'."
"Oh, not much, I'm just a little disorganised," she says, with a sigh. Jessica's tugging at Matt's hand – "Matt, c'mon, I wanna go play with the Legos!– but Matt digs in his heels and bends his knees so that she can't pull him.
"How do you feel about pizza?" Jessica's Mom asks Dad.
Dad looks uncomfortable. "Oh, I wasn't planning on – I didn't mean to – I wouldn't want to impose–"
Jessica's Mom smiles at Dad, and jerks their thumb at them.
What? What did they do?
"I'm not sure you'll be able to pry your son away from her before dinner. Well, not if you don't use a crowbar."
"Matt," Jessica whines, "come on."
Dad grins at them, and ruffles Matt's hair – "go on, Matty, go with Jess-" – before he turns back to Jessica's Mom. "Pizza sounds amazing."
At that point, Matt unlocks his knees, and lets Jessica drag him to her room, where the LEGO blocks are jammed into a box.
"Why were you worried earlier?" Jessica asks him.
They've just been debating the pros and cons of adding lizard monsters to the LEGO city. They've finally agreed on it having both lizard monsters and a Princess Barbie to save the city from them.
"Worried?" Matt asks, remembering the way Jessica had scrunched her eyebrows and looked away before on the sidewalk.
"When Mom came home. You looked really worried."
Matt can't quite meet her eyes. They're cool, and she's looking at him the way she'd looked at Dad when they met. Like it's a test.
Matt gives in. "Not everyone likes my Dad," he says, at last. "'Cos of his job. He's a boxer."
"Oh. Not everyone likes my Mom, either. Nobody likes math," Jessica says, her nose wrinkling.
"Your Mom must like it," Matt points out, even as he feels ten times lighter that Jessica doesn't care. "She teaches it."
Jessica sighs. "Mom doesn't count, Matt."
Matt rolls his eyes. "Sure," he agrees, because Jessica likes it when she wins. "We should build a tower here," he taps an unoccupied spot on the grid.
Constructing the tower to a standard they're both happy with takes them until Jessica's Mom knocks on the door and says, "Jessica, Matt, it's time to set the table!"
The first time someone bothers Matt when he walks over to the reading corner, it's Robbie F.
Jessica doesn't like Robbie F. She knows Matt doesn't either, because his mouth twists and his eyes go dark whenever he bothers someone. He's normally in Mrs. Nolan's class, but today, they're combining nap-time for both classes.
Matt hates nap-time. He says it's too quiet. But Jessica loves it, and she falls asleep next to Matt, her face turned towards him. "So I can look after you," she had explained when Matt asked her.
Matt had wrinkled his nose. "I don't need you to look after me."
"Yes, you do," Jessica had insisted. "I brung another juice pouch."
"Brought," Matt had corrected her. "Thank you."
She had rolled her eyes. "Whatever."
But today, Robbie F. had fallen asleep near them, which had made them share a glance, because not Robbie. Jessica curls a little closer into Matt for nap time that day.
After nap time is over, they have free time for half an hour, to play and to think, and in Matt and Jessica's case, to read. So when the teacher claps her hands, waking them up, Jessica opens her eyes, blearily, and Matt is already getting up, hopping over her and walking over to the book-shelf, a little frown on his face.
Robbie F. puts himself between Matt and the bookshelf.
"Ugh, don't you get bored?" There's a smile on his lips that Jessica doesn't like at all. "You're a know-it-all."
But that's wrong, because that's Jack's name for Matt, with a laugh in his mouth and a soft tilt to his smile, when he asks them what they learned and Matt tells him exactly what the teacher said.
It's not supposed to make Matt hesitate, his hand drawing back from the book-shelf, his whole body stilling, face lowering as if to curl in on himself.
Jessica gets to her feet, and walks right up to Robbie F, and tells him in her meanest, scariest tone to "Stop it!"
He flinches a little, and she steps forward again. "Go away," she orders, her heart pounding, fingers flexing. Then Matt is grabbing her hand, a blue book already in his other hand.
"Get off me! He was being mean to you!"
"I don't want you to get into trouble, he's not worth it!" Matt whispers, his eyes blazing. She sucks in a quick breath, startled, and Matt shakes his head again. "He's not worth it, Jessica. That's what Dad always says."
"He needs to stop," Jessica tells Matt. "He pulled Lisa's pigtails, he kicked Jason in the sandpit, now he's being mean to you!"
"Punching him isn't going to fix this!"
Jessica huffs, but Matt has that frown he was wearing last week, when they argued about the pencils. She doesn't want that again.
"Fine, I won't punch him," she says.
Matt's eyebrows bounce. "Really?"
"Yes!"
"Yes, you will punch him, or yes, you won't?"
"Yes, I won't punch him!"
"Jessica, what're you doing?"
Matt sounds bemused. She's not sure looking down to check is a good idea, though.
She grunts as she strains, and pushes the window up.
"Jessica, stop!"
Ooh. The floor actually looks kind of far away from where she is now.
"Jess!" Matt is angry, now, and she bites her lip, gripping the sill very hard from where she's balancing on it. She hears a grunt, a few bad words – Matt uses them sometimes – and then Matt is on the sill beside her.
She jumps, and lands in a crouch, before getting up. She feels a rush of pride as she looks around Mrs. Nolan's classroom.
Step one, complete.
"Jessica, why are we in here?"
"You made me promise I wouldn't punch him."
"So we're sneaking into – this is about Robbie F?!"
"He needs to stop, Matt." Jessica holds up one hand, the way she's seen people in movies do sometimes, when they really need to make the other person see they're right. "Lisa's pigtails. Jason in the sandpit. You."
Matt says, "Ugh, fine," and five minutes later, Robbie F's chair has a thin layer of clear glue on it, before they walk out the door of Mrs. Nolan's classroom.
The next time Robbie F gets between someone and the bookshelf, Jessica grabs a gluestick from the bucket, uncaps it, and smiles at Robbie.
He blinks, looks scared, and then steps back, once, twice, three times.
This, Jessica thinks, is winning. She likes it.