Hey guys! So sorry again for such a long wait, but life just hit me like a ton of bricks. In late November, my computer stopped working and I lost all my files, including lecture notes and also Murdock & Knight drafts for future chapters :'( I've tried to rewrite it to the best of my ability, hope you guys like it!

She crouched against the wall unzipping the duffel bag in front of her. Riley checked her watch, two minutes to 10pm. He's really cutting it close, isn't he? Being punctual to her meant being at least 5 minutes early to wherever you needed to be. She had a whole list of things to explain to him before the mission started, a fact the vigilante was probably aware of and avoiding just because he could.

She checked her watch again for the fifth time in the span of a minute. The hand wasn't going any faster or slower. What if he sold me out? She swallowed that dangerous thought. The possibility had been gnawing at her the entire day. She had been jumpy even when Alfie rang her earlier that day, she'd half-expected to sing a swan song after he announced she was to be arrested for associating herself with a vigilante. But he'd just called to check up on her.

Daredevil had no cause to sell her out since this whole deal was mutually beneficial. Still, it was that undying sense of betrayal to the force, knowing what she was doing was totally wrong and whatever consequences bore down on her, she knew she deserved it.

Ten seconds to 10pm and the soft pad of footsteps made her whip her head in its direction.

And there he was, walking over to her, Daredevil costume blood red in the night. For 10 seconds she re-thought every step, every decision she made that led to this insane moment. Riley accepted them and stood to meet him.

"Did you think I wouldn't show?" He said, holding his hands out.

"Thought you would at least try to be here a little earlier, instead of right on the dot," she tapped her watch, annoyed.

"I had to take care of something, beforehand." There was a bit of smeared blood on his 5 o clock shadow, she didn't make much of it. They'd agreed that she would stay out of whatever crime fighting he did besides helping her. A busted lip wasn't her problem.

"Whatever, let me explain what the plan is tonight." Their target was a former captain for the Italian mafia, on early release and on probation that he was blatantly violating under everyone's noses. He was between jobs, and with the new power vacuum in the city, would be trying to make good with every major gang, playing the field, before an obvious winner could be identified. Riley had been trying to identify the men who knocked her out in the alley, and he could potentially be one of the ones that snuck up on her.

"Last note; I need you to wear this," she held the ear bud to Daredevil and quickly put up her other palm as a precaution to prevent him from freaking out on her and pinning her to the wall like last time. "Chill; it's not a tracking device, it's a com device. This bit goes into your ear, the other on your suit. I'll have this ear bud and mic on too. We'll be able to communicate better this way."

He shook his head adamantly. "I'm not wearing that."

She rolled her eyes to the sky, "how else am I supposed to know what's going on in there?"

"I can put that on," he indicted to the mic, "but not the ear bud."

She was beginning to think that this red-suited freak might actually be an incredibly luckly well-muscled idiot rather than certifiably insane. "Com devices don't work like that, smart ass. What am I gonna do? Yell at you from all the way over here?"

He looked at her, as if he was the one who needed to be patient with her instead of opposite; "I don't need the ear bud to be able to hear you."

Is he trying to make a dig at how loud I am? "I don't know what you're getting at."

"Talk at this volume, and I'll hear you," he repeated as serious as lung cancer. Riley was missing an elephant in the room at this point as she stared at him perplexed, she didn't enjoy being made a fool of.

It finally hit her, crossing her mind like a lightning bolt. "Wait," she stopped, and he did too. "Are you…one of those, enhanced individuals?"

He titled his head to and fro weighing that description; "Kind of."

"You have super powered hearing?"

He paused for a long second, as if deciding how much he could divulge to her. "Yeah, nothing special really," he waved it off nonchalantly as he followed her towards the wall. It wasn't anything to be casual about, Riley found it rather fascinating, how anything was possible these days, though she would never admit that outright.

"Huh. Okay," was her controlled and indifferent response. A lot of things about the vigilante were beginning to make a world of sense. "Well, you're not the only one in the city these days. You make any new friends?" She asked offhandedly. If he was partnering up with the likes of Jessica Jones, that could spell more trouble in the streets for the precinct. It was taking a mini army to capture Daredevil besides.

"I prefer to work alone…most of the time," he added, tilting his head to acknowledge her presence.

"I'm surprised SHIELD didn't try to get a hold of you ages ago, before shit hit the fan." Or maybe they did and he was part of a bigger plan that was far, far above her pay grade. They must know about him at least. But SHIELD had been out of the picture for a few years now, and Daredevil had only entered the scene a little over a year ago.

He gave a one-shouldered shrug, "I guess I'm not important enough." She should be grateful that that spy agency had not whisked him away into confinement. Hell's Kitchen needed some kind of beacon of hope after the Incident; another thing he's never going to hear coming out of my mouth.

Riley checked her watch, it was not the time or place for this conversation. "For the purpose of not revealing my identity, my code name is Alpha. Yours is D."

"D?" He guffawed, "you've got to be kidding me."

"I don't really know how to make jokes these days," she plugged her ear with her ear piece. "From here on out, it'll make our correspondence swifter, now put the mic on, he's almost here."

The frustrated twist to his mouth suggested he didn't want the discussion of codenames to end. He clipped it onto his suit and proceeded to the edge of the roof. With a moment's hesitation she called after him; "good luck!"

He glanced over his shoulder at her and nodded once. Well, that's all the camaraderie I'll get out of this. She listened as he landed in the opposite building and entered through the sun window as according to the blue prints she procured-which for some odd reason he found completely useless. How does he plan his missions if he doesn't know what landscape to expect?

"Can you hear me?" She inquired, forgetting for a second that he had enhanced abilities.

"Loud and clear."

"Remember what I said; restraint."

"Copy that, Alpha," replied Matt, not too happy with how this was going so far. This will take some getting used too, let's hope we're not at each other's throats prematurely. He listened to the hitman climb up the stairs. He smoked roughly a pack of cigarettes a day and was in the midst of smoking his last one whilst fumbling for his keys. If I don't harm him, cancer will instead.

The target stomped the cig out on the ground. As the door eased open, he pounced on him. "What the—"

This close to the man neck he recognised his scent from the alley where he found Knight unconscious. He struggled as the man grunted and tried to throw him off; he was around a hundred pounds heavier than himself but lacked any precision in his swings.

He backed into a wall and crushed Matt against it, taking the chance to draw his gun. Matt's leg came up in an arch and kicked it away, he blocked a punch aimed at his chin and twisted the arm behind his back with enough pressure to sprain his wrist. That'll teach him to aim that gun where he shouldn't.

He screamed in Matt's ear. His other hand flailed forward and grabbed a screwdriver on the table. He completely released him as it descended at a 90 degree angle for his jugular, narrowly missing it. In that time frame the target dived for his gun once more. But Matt was on him and threw him against a concrete pillar, delivering a punch to his nose. The pair stumbled towards the windows. He only needed to intimidate him enough to get answers.

"I need a name, who do you work for?"

"I'm not telling you shit!" He spat in his face, blood and spit hitting his cheek.

Matt kicked a window open. It was at an angle where the detective would be able to witness the entire interrogation from her vantage point. "That's him! Careful now!" She warned seeing it happen.

He did what he knew would do the trick, holding Gardner by the collar he pulled him towards the windows and held him out, leaning forward enough to have half of the his torso hanging out into open air, a four story drop between them and the sidewalk.

"A name, or it's your end!"

"You wouldn't fucking dare!"

"I've done it before." He loosened his grip enough that Gardner would feel the drag of gravity downwards, Matt heard his heart slam like car breaks.

"Fuck!" Gardner peeked below him and almost wetted himself. The detective was hissing at him to be careful, but in that moment it was him and the criminal, no one else's judgment or rules mattered. "A name!"

Finally, he coughed it up.

"S-Sweeney."

As it hit Matt's ears, it flew over his head; "what?" He yelled for someone who had super human hearing. No, I misheard, he's lying, he's definitely lying.

"Sweeney! Now fucking let me go."

Gardner, the detective, the city, the universe froze. Matt was taken back to that alley. He was a boy again; his world was new and dark, and frightening. He touched his father's face, felt its familiar smile lines and crows feet, it was wet for some reason, and the smell…

There were no more words of comfort from his father, only silence. Endless silence. Matt's throat tightened in anguish.

As he returned to the present; Knight was screaming in his ear but he was past caring, even listening to any of her commands. A geyser of rage erupted his chest until it was hard to even breathe.

He dropped Gardner.

Every possible way this could have failed had come true. Riley peered over the edge, she couldn't tell if Gardner was breathing or not. He'd made a crater in a taxi roof, at least he aimed for something besides the pavement. "Fuck," she rummaged for her phone in her jacket, "fuck, fuck, fuck." After calling 911, she heard Daredevil return. She glared at him with every intention of shoving him to his doom as well.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" She demanded, her fingers in claws ready to rip him to shreds. "We do one mission together and you already found a way to screw it up!"

"I got you what you wanted, didn't I?" He lashed out.

"A name. That's it. How much help do you think that'll be? We could have asked him about his partner, why he was at Daria's apartment, who threatened my brother—" she swatted her hand in the air; "but fuck that, let's throw him off the roof."

"We know who's behind it," he countered. She could tell she was pushing all the wrong buttons on this ticking time bomb. But she couldn't give a damn.

"Sweeney," she crossed her arms in an irritated huff. "You think Roscoe Sweeney is behind all of what's happened. Impossible." Riley frowned at him; "You know what I want to know?"

"What?" The muscles in his shoulders tensed like a snake as he controlled his own anger.

"What's your deal with Sweeney? You completely blocked me out then, I didn't even need to read what little of your face I could see to know you have a problem with him."

"I don't," he replied with icy blankness, a shocking contrast from his demeanour a second ago.

"What's your problem with Sweeney?" She repeated, slower. Each word only fed Daredevil's rage, until a growl ripped out of him, "nothing." His fists were clenched to his side. It was a warning, not to push it further. Riley bent her head a bit ready to block him if he attacked her and retreated a step too.

"So instead you decide to ignore my crucial instructions and put a valuable witness into a coma."

"He couldn't have told us anything else. Besides, it's not like he didn't deserve it."

A man like Gardner probably did, but that didn't justify it. Her mouth dropped open in disbelief. "You went too far!"

"Cops like you don't go far enough!" He snapped taking a big step to her where she nearly flinched. "At least I get the man out of the way for a good while. You throw them into a cell and release them the next day on bail, like nothing ever happened."

She stood her ground; "No. We keep them conscious enough to draw more information out of them." She heard the sirens and swung her bag over her shoulder. Riley hesitated before reaching out and yanking the mic off his suit. It was more important that they leave the place rather than stay, arguing in circles, she was sick of shouting at this moron. "We're not reckless; we have a method in order to make progress in our investigation. Calculated moves are what puts us a step ahead of the bad guys. Not this," she pointed her thumb behind her.

The red and blue lights of the ambulance and police cars were thrown against the façade beneath them. He was calming down as they readied to leave in different directions. She shouldered past Daredevil as he asked, coldly; "you still think this is a good idea detective? All of this?"

She looked back at him; "I never said it was." None of this was ever supposed to be easy, she always knew that, but Riley was not going to quit now. "But it doesn't end here."

On days where he needed to escape his own thoughts, he let his senses wander like a curious child to whatever compartmentalized moment he chose. He eavesdropped on the employee hinting at a raise to her boss in the travel agency across the hall from them. Next he roamed to the pavement outside, to a passerby having a conversation with their boyfriend about some texts she read off his cell phone.

"…get it signed? Matt?"

Karen tapped the desk to get his attention. "Yeah?" He replied plainly having drifted off from their conversation.

"Did you sign the paper I left on your desk this morning?"

He sat straighter, his hands scanning the desk to recall the exact point where he last left it. "Yeah, yeah it's…it's somewhere."

"I see it." She collected it into her lap, and then looked at him from below her lashes, "you've been zoning out all day."

He half-signed half-yawned, to be frank, all he wanted was 72 hours of sleep. Something he wasn't going to allow himself to have; "you noticed."

"Normally I would assume it was because you were tired, but you can usually make it to an 9am court hearing with 40 minutes of sleep and two shots of espresso in your coffee. No, this is a different kind of inattention and exhaustion."

"I'm sorry, I swear this stuff is important, I know that."

The name whispered to him again, Sweeney. Sweeney... He had to actively push the events of last night out, they were almost surreal to him sometimes. He focused on Karen's steady breathing and that worked better for him.

She shrugged, "It's okay. It wasn't a normal week for us. Have you spoken to that detective since she confronted you?"

"No." He'd told her about what happened, she may not know his secret but he and Foggy agreed this was something they could safely tell her. "Do you think I made a bad call by arranging that meeting for her?"

But he if hadn't made the call he wouldn't know what he was up against. This is my father's murderer. As much as he wanted to sentence Sweeney to the cell he deserved to rot in, he also wanted believe that what Gardner had said was a lie. Even though deep in his gut, he knew it wasn't. He was still in the midst of processing exactly what he had learned, how far he was willing to keep going with the Detective, what he was prepared and not prepared to do.

Part of him was angry and vengeful. That dangerous side of him could turn reckless, become the monster everyone in that precinct thought he was. The other half was afraid. Afraid of how far he could let himself go, if put in a room with Sweeney.

"You need restraint," Knight had repeated tiresomely to him yesterday. But Matt had spent 18 years trying to move on from his past, to accept that he could not change what happened to his father, to cherish what memories of him he did have. Yet the past was catching up with him, and no matter how often he went church, he just didn't know if he could be as forgiving as God was.

"No, in fact, I understand why she would resort to seeking a vigilante's help. If he hadn't been there, I would be dead." She smiled to herself softly, as her hands kept busy with arranging the paperwork in her lap. "Everyday, I wish I could thank him for saving my life."

Matt smiled for the first time that week, "yeah, I bet he doesn't get the chance to hear that enough from the people he saves."

"What do you think Knight wanted to talk to him about? What does she have in mind?"

"Beats me."

"She surprised me."

"Me too."

He wasn't sure whether their combined efforts were enough to save Thomas Knight, but he liked to think they were on the right track. And if they could put Sweeney behind bars for good in the process, he may need this partnership more than ever.

Karen left to get lunch so Matt went into Foggy's office. Wordlessly, he opened the door and plopped into a chair.

"I fucked up. Big time."

Foggy sighed like a tired father, placing his pen down flat, "dramatic entrances aren't really your thing Matty."

"She's going to find out."

"Since you're clearly trying to exacerbate my headache, just how is she going to find out?"

"Sweeney."

"Sweeney," repeated his best friend rolling the name over his tongue. "Why is that name so familiar?"

"He's the man… he ordered the hit on my father."

Matt told him everything from start to finish, retelling bits that Foggy already knew so Matt could let it all out and process it rather than hold back like he usually would. He was standing and pacing by the time he was done explaining.

"And she'll know it's me," he spun back to Foggy who was following him with his eyes. "She'll look up Sweeney and make the connection between Matt Murdock and Daredevil."

"Matt Murdock is still blind. I wouldn't worry about it." Matt did exactly that, he scrunched his hair up with both hands, Foggy cringed; "But me telling you not to worry about it is still making you worry about it."

He grunted in response at how demotivating his best friend's pep talk was. "How about this?" Continued Fog, "next time you guys meet, make it painfully obvious how blind you are, stub your toe on the chair, whack her shins with your cane. Just be bad at being blind."

While he was worrying about how to handle Sweeney, it only hit him much later that Knight might be on to him. Out of options, he turned to his friend, "I guess I can try that."

She stared at Alfonso's contact on her phone screen, thinking about calling him. It took all of ten seconds and an awkward goodbye over the phone for her to realize that she couldn't rely on him anymore. Not with the unconventional and very illegal way she was trying to free her brother.

She rested her laptop on the dining table, cracking her knuckles as she glanced sidelong at the wine cabinet. It was empty, she'd emptied all her alcohol down the drain years ago. Some days it was hard to be sober, but it had been a long journey that she could look back on and be proud of. She was both humbled and weakened by the idea that one sip would be all it took to unwind countless hours of AA meetings.

She turned on her computer, and spread out her research, typing 'Sweeney' into the search engine. The name was common for the Irish neighborhood, but she could not forget the vigilante's reaction to it. How it looked like the muscles in his shoulders would rip through the seams of his costume.

Riley had experience that kind of intense rage before, felt it course through her veins and boil her blood. That kind of anger only came from the heart.

...

Later in the afternoon she was on her way to Nelson & Murdock's firm when she got a call from her brother. She didn't even get a 'hello' in when he ranted to her saying that their mother was on their way to the meeting too. A surprise and completely uncalled for visit. "Ugh, she's probably losing her shit, and she's going to blame it all on me."

"Riles, consider me out, you know what to do; this is your area of expertise."

Their mother was going through a redemption phase that neither of them could stomach, it was an alien side of her they weren't used too. She knew what their mum would say to her the moment they met again; you don't know how to look after yourselves or each other. It was a total bullshit act, considering she couldn't keep them safe from her endless string of asshole boyfriends when they were kids.

Nevertheless, Riley had to be the rational adult here. "Tommy we can't miss this meeting, c'mon, this is your freedom we're talking about. I don't want to see her either but we can't physically stop her from attending, and you need to be there."

"No, not if she's going to be there. Normally I'd tolerate her, but this is…different from the other times." Other than getting back on his own two feet and owning up to his mistakes, her little brother was doing this to win back the trust of a girl who clearly did not want to have anything to do with him. Her heart melted a little, she couldn't even remember the last romantic gesture she'd received, if ever.

"Okay, okay. I will handle mum, yeah? You let the lawyers talk you through it; Murdock knows what's up. I trust him."

He laughed, "jesus, three words I never thought I'd hear you say about those 'demon spawn'." She flushed, embarrassed to admit to herself that less than a month ago she wouldn't have trusted him with her favourite mug. "Are you sure you can handle mum?"

"Yes I can," but she didn't really believe herself either. "Don't you dare skip out, Tommy, or you're going to get a roasting from me too, understand? I'll be there in 10."

...

At the entrance to the attorney's office her mother had also just arrived. The older woman was well put together in sensible shoes, slacks and a salmon pink cardigan. Like a chameleon she could transform when it was required of her. Social services believed the performance for years, when neither Riley nor her brother bought a lick of it.

When Riley had first started at the police academy was around the same time the third rehab clinic had finally gotten through to their mother. 'Cured her' as former Mrs. Knight, liked to humbly brag. The number of recovery stories she had heard over the years were immeasurable, told from the view points of criminals to colleagues to complete strangers. She was a recovery story herself, but the bitter memories of her childhood poisoned any hope of forgiveness she had for her mother.

"Mum—"

"Jesus Christ, Riley Louise Knight, you better have a good fucking explanation for this."

"Mum, please—"

Her mother held her index finger up, shutting her up. Riley sighed through her teeth, here it comes.

"Jail? J-A-I-L?!" Her mother said as if she was enunciating the word to a 5 year old, the pitch of her voice going up an octave.

"Clearly, he's not in jail," Riley reminded her stonily.

"The nurses said he turned himself in for a girl. A girl? This is the fourth time he's gotten in trouble with the cops. So where the hell are you? Mmhm? Where in God's name are you, 'Detective Knight'?" She mocked, stabbing a finger at the door to Nelson & Murdock, "just look where we're standing—"

She rolled her eyes, like she didn't already know how messed up this whole situation was. "Mum, be quiet, we are not doing this now—"

"I can't think of a better time and place to finally have this conversation! You are irresponsible, and you do not know how to look after yourself or your brother!"

Fuming she said, "oh please, this is all your goddam fault to begin with!"

As her mother opened her mouth the throw an insult back, the door flew open. There stood Karen Page, the look on her countenance suggesting that she too had lost patience waiting for their argument to simmer down.

"Mrs. Knight! Detective!"

Riley and her mother exchanged a sheepish look before she replied; "Ms. Page."

"The most important thing for both of you to do in this second is stop arguing and come inside, right now. We're waiting."

Her mother fixed on a prim and proper smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "I am so sorry Ms. Page, I haven't seen my children in a while. I definitely did not plan on reuniting with them under such dire circumstances. A mother has the right to worry."

She wanted to vomit in her own mouth. Riley could not stand outside a second longer and stepped inside the firm, wishing this nightmare would end soon.

In the evening, as he left work, Matt's head was preoccupied with the day's meetings. Thus he did not preemptively hear who turned the corner to catch up with him as he landed on the front stoop. Matt pretended to adjust his bag on his shoulder and took the step onto the pavement. The detective was approaching slowly, her fingers playing with the keys in her pocket, one of her intricacies when her mind was restless. She was watching him in the way that many non-blind people watched Matt, hyper-aware that he was different with his cane and glasses; curious as to how he navigated the world. It was human nature to observe people in a state of their most natural; being unobserved, and Matt, being blind wasn't supposed to know that he was being studied.

She swallowed whatever uneasiness she felt and increased her pace, "Murdock."

"Knight," she held his arm, he pretended that it took him off guard, "you startled me."

"I'm sorry," she put her hand back in her pocket.

"Was there something else you wanted to discuss?"

She opened and closed her mouth; "can I walk with you?"

He nodded and pointed with his cane the direction he was headed, she offered to guide him again. "I wanted to apologize about earlier today. It was unprofessional and made the meeting awkward for everyone else."

The Knight's had plenty of skeletons in the closet. But he understood them; having grown up in an orphanage he'd been surrounded by bitter, sad children everyday, separating themselves from their past could be nearly impossible. "Believe it or not, you're not the worst family quarrel we've seen."

"There were more embarrassing ones?" She wanted to know, teasing the story out of him.

"Hot coffee spilled over Foggy and I, when this one couple were arguing over custody of a French bull dog. It went rampant around the office. The entire place went nuts." She laughed with him as he told her the anecdote. Knight was more comfortable around him nowadays. She made the effort to respect his firm, and she and Foggy were cordial with one another. Since Thomas walked into their office, the boundaries of their professions were still very clear but less of a wall and more like a hurdle that was low enough to step over.

"Is your arm, alright?"

The stitches were in place neatly, blood coagulated, "yup, thank you for stitching me up. I trust you've had your meeting with our mutual friend already?" He asked, wanting to jump to the point.

"Yes I have, it did not end the way I would have wanted it too. Then again, I'm not too shocked."

"And you're still getting help from him?"

"I intend too." They walked in silence for a bit after that, her teeth grinding as she tried to form her next words. "I want to attend Tommy's hearing, but another part of me doesn't want too."

"Why is that?" Her brother almost always depended on her counsel, his shoulders relaxed by ten-fold whenever his sister walked into the conference room. He wished Thomas would only vocalize how much his sister meant to him, rather than the usual sarcasm and hot-headiness he decided to upend on her.

"To be fair, I don't really want to listen to old wounds being opened. But I know I have to be there. Mum will attend and Tommy will need me no matter what. He's more patient than I am when it comes to her, believe or not, but he needs my support. You've read his file, you know about our past."

"I do." Jumping from foster home to foster home, juvie records for both of the siblings, and another tidbit about Riley that had been too classified for Karen to uncover.

"Murdock," she spoke in that tone she used when she had to bring up something she knew he would not enjoy hearing.

"What?" His heart was beating like a jack-hammer. She knows, she knows, she knows…

"There's something else."

Matt played along as the oblivious lawyer, "regarding your brother's case or—?"

"I'm not sure. I can't disclose much with you, but um—last night Daredevil and I uncovered something. I looked into it."

"And?" They stopped in the street; it was just past sundown, there were too many onlookers in case he needed to escape. He would have to get out of this one by playing dumb if she suspected anything.

"You're an orphan, you were raised in St. Augustines. I read about your father too. He was killed."

The pain of the loss of his father still felt as though he was being stabbed in the gut, his knuckles wrapped around his cane, white as the bone beneath the skin. "What does that have to do with this?"

"You found him." Matt stiffened. "Do you know who killed him?"

"He was mugged." It was a lie he told everyone, and he certainly did not want to get into the personal details of his life with her. But that might already to be too late.

"He wasn't, it was mob hit, and you know that."

"Look it doesn't matter how he was killed, it doesn't change the fact that he's dead. I can't do anything about it." Matt Murdock certainly could not, but Daredevil could.

"Right." She gave him a hard look, "but the man who ordered it, is still alive and doing damage to our home, Roscoe Sweeney."

Matt licked his lips, swayed backwards a bit, holding his hands up defensively; "I don't want trouble, Knight. What business you have with Daredevil keep it away from my friends and I. You made a dangerous decision and I don't want to be roped into your professional suicide any further." He could not have worded that any better, it did the trick to make her doubt herself.

Her face heated up, her tongue twisting; "of course, I'm sorry," she shook her head, "I thought you should know, I wouldn't put you in danger. I just—I'm sorry."

He stood strong, nodded once, relieved that he had warded off any suspicion on himself; "don't worry about it. Like I said, keep me out of it."

She left him there. It only hit him when she was out of his range that she had been trying to protect him, to find common ground. She thought he deserved to know, and chose not to keep it from him, he did not acknowledge her loyalty even when he deserved none of it. The lives of their families were now connected by the same monster that killed his father and was now threatening her brother. Matt had not realized it, being so concerned about her connecting him to Daredevil.

But now they had a name, a common enemy.

And not only did she want to protect her brother but she wanted justice for his father too, even if that meant she had to continuously work with Daredevil, risking her entire career. Simply put, Matt had no idea how to feel about that, except awful for putting her down. Everything became so much more personal.

"How's the task force going?" She asked Alfie across from her as they sat in their favourite diner eating dinner.

He snorted in disdain; "Like a bad date you don't know how to get out of."

"What have you found?"

"We're in the midst of contacting people that have had encounters with the vigilante, develop an idea of the area he works in." He spooned tomato soup into his mouth. "He clearly doesn't get around by car, or else we'd be hearing about him doing his thing in other parts of New York."

It took him this long to figure out that the people Daredevil saved were the key to figuring out exactly where he was based. She sipped her coffee contemplatively. Friendly competition was a tradition from police academy days that resurfaced here and there. She was pleased to be a few steps ahead of him even if he didn't realize it.

He put his spoon down; "Okay wild suggestion here; but do you reckon he's working with someone on the force?"

She choked on her coffee; "I doubt it. Everyone hates him." Alfie barely paid any attention to her as he stared off in the distance, deep in thought.

"Haven't heard much from Maggi. You're not keeping her up too late waiting for you to come home are you?"

He gave her a guilty look. "Alfie," she disparaged.

"Daredevil only works at night."

"The last time you were on a task force, you slept on the couch more than you shared a bed with her." The initial drive to get a criminal was a great adrenaline rush, but it teeters out and morphs into an obsession until the case haunts your dreams. God knows the lengths of time that Riley had spent losing sleep and functioning as a normal human being because she was giving 110% to her job. Someone like Alfie, with a family, couldn't afford that kind of imbalance.

"You can't let that happen again, especially for Alyssa's sake."

"I know, Riles."

"Do you?"

"You don't have people you need to take care of, you don't get it."

She stared at him, incredulous; "Have you not been listening to a single thing I've said this past half hour?" God, he can be an idiot sometimes.

He regretted what he said; "I'm sorry, I didn't—" Valentine's phone rang; "I got to take this."

The call barely lasted ten seconds. "Grocery store heist, ten blocks from here." Alfie stood, leaving a few bills on the table; paying for her meal too. "A squad is on their way." Out of force of habit, she got out of her seat too, and then the reality slapped her in the face that she was suspended, it wasn't her responsibility.

"No, come along, it'll be like old times."

That was the structure of Alfie's apologies: bare minimum number of words said, dinner paid for and an invitation to live in a few hours of nostalgia, even if the captain would admonish him for asking her to tag along.

Not that she was complaining. Actions always spoke louder than words in her book.

...

Cop cars were jam packed into a tiny street. Three assailants were holding up the mini market when they arrived. They had taken two customers hostage and were surprised when the cashier had a gun. Shots had been fired but there were no reports of injuries or death. A customer was on the phone with the first officer who called in the heist.

"I know this store," said Riley, it was next to a popular corner to sell weed. "There's a service entrance at the back, we can get in from there."

"We'll be putting the hostages in harms way."

The assailants had no terms of negotiation and they were only making things worst for themselves, neither was the first officer making progress over the phone to the thief.

"They weren't prepared for the cashier to have a gun, they have no demands besides their freedom. We need to end this before it escalates further."

"Which is not an option," said Alfie.

"There'll be enough space for us at the back, we won't be seen."

"Okay."

They dipped away and ran in through around the back to the service entrance. It was unlocked, the storage room was long and narrow. She squeezed between boxes of produce towards the white light from the store inside. She crouched down behind a counter in front of the open doorway and peeked. The cashier had a gun pointed at one assailant while he had it pointed at him; another thief was holding a hostage at gunpoint, while the third was talking to the officer outside on the phone snatched from the other hostage, knelt on the ground. Each pair of eyes above the black half mask flew around like scared animals at the sound of sirens and blue and red lights.

She signalled Alfie to go around the back of the thief holding onto the hostage. She went for the one facing off with the cashier. "Drop your weapons!" She shouted, springing from her hiding spot.

The one at the front entrance leaped up in their spot, and the one holding onto the hostage flailed, the crying woman he had in a headlock falling to her knees as he nearly lost hold of her. "You fucking step any closer and I shot her in the fucking head!" He bellowed.

"There is no way out of this! There is no need for anyone to get hurt!" Alfie was behind him now cornering him. The other thief with the gun was glancing back frantically at his comrade at a loss of what to do.

"I swear to God, you come any nearer—"

Out of the corner of her eye she saw two objects flying, one smacked the thief facing off with the cashier in the head, the other at the one with the hostage. Seconds slowed down, the gun pointed at the hostage's head was going to go off. Riley jumped forward and pushed his elbow upwards as the gun fired into the ceiling. The hostage was freed and Riley swept his legs from under him.

Her heart skipped when she saw Daredevil tackle and punch the third thief, knocking him out. He came in like a ghost and then ran to the direction of the service entrance. His presence totally threw her off.

She exchanged a look with Alfie, as her friend saw his golden opportunity literally escape from him. She was holding down the one she had tackled, as Daredevil ran out behind her.

"Get him!" Valentine yelled infuriated, torn between staying there to ensure the hostages were safe and going after Daredevil.

The one below her shifted, "Stay down!" She growled pressing her knee into the middle of his back.

"He's not getting away!" Shouted Alfie as he took off after Daredevil. No, no, no.

Her hands flew faster than the wind to cuff the thief she had pinned. "It's clear, two guns down, another unconscious," she reported into the police radio. Daredevil had been betting on their need to follow protocol, cuff every thief and be present for the aftermath of questioning and paperwork. But he had never met a determined son-of-bitch like Alfonso Valentine.

No, this is not the end. This is not the end, played over and over again in her mind she as she burst through the service entrance. She sprinted after Alfie who was hot on Daredevil's heels.

Alfie was at a dead end, unable to climb like Daredevil could, but he had his gun. If Riley was the best shot in the force, Alfie was a close second, and sometimes he was better than her. If the vigilante was caught than she may never be able to save her brother, he would blab about her too, and her life would be over. But beyond her personal struggles with him, for some illogical reason-since she'd probably already lost her sanity a few months ago, she just didn't want to see an innocent-albeit impossible- man die. Not when he was only trying to save the rest of them.

Valentine aimed, in that spilt second she decided to save the vigilante. Daredevil was scaling the dark fire escape like a spider, hopping and leaping. As she caught up to Alfie, her momentum forced her to crash into him.

"Stop!"

The gun went off. Her eyes flew upwards as Daredevil crashed in through a window into a flat. Alfie shoved her, red and livid; "Out of my way, Knight!"

"This is a civilian household!" Was the pathetic excuse she managed through panting to catch her breathe.

"I had him!" His eyes were wide and white, absolutely prepared to throttle her for making him miss his shot. Whatever frantic apology she was dribbling out, he ignored as he dashed off to find the front of the block of flats. She went after him, with one final glance at the broken window where Daredevil had dived through, undecided as to whether it was better for him to be alive or dead on the other side of it.

..

She was faster than Alfie and caught up with him in the nick of time. On the third floor, the couple who owned the flat was in a frenzy; their window smashed and front door in splinters. It was too late to give chase to Daredevil by then. The couple were in their Pj's huddled in each other's arms, shaking in their boots at what fresh hell they were witnessing, on what was supposed to be a typical, boring Wednesday night.

The wife took one look at Riley, a fellow woman, and reached for her, thanking God that the police were here. "It's alright m'am, we'll handle it from here," she reassured soothingly as Alfie spoke to the husband. "We're so sorry we disturbed your evening."

Alfie made his anger known to her after she calmed down the civilians. He pulled her aside by the arm; "Why did you push me?"

He still hadn't released her so she chopped at his wrist and he finally did. "It was an accident and you were shooting right into people's homes!" She said in a shouted whisper.

"He was right there, within my range, we could've—argh!" His hands clamped onto his head in frustration. "What was that shit show? You weren't on your A-game, tripping over like a 3 year old who can't walk. That's nothing like you. You shouldn't have come back this soon, with Tommy—"

"Do not bring up my brother," she cautioned.

A small timid cough emanated beside them. The husband gingerly held up a finger to get their attention; "Excuse me? Officers? I have to show you something." They followed him back inside to shattered window; "There's a little blood on the glass here."

Her friend bent down for a closer inspection; "Oh my god. Holy shit!" Alfie covered his mouth, "sorry for the language." He looked up at her, "Knight, this is it, the bastards enough of a moron to not wear bulletproof outfits."

She was screaming internally, but on the surface even she had to agree he was dumb to think he was invincible; "Oh yeah, he's full of shit."

"You usually carry swabs right?"

She blanked for a second. "Uh yeah. Here you go." She should not have given them to him, but calling a CI would put the fate of the DNA sample in a stranger's hand. Not somewhere Riley could manipulate.

"Perfect."

"Hold on, collecting blood, this is one of 'em DNA samples, isn't it? Oh how exciting! We're helping the police find Daredevil," cooed the wife, clapping her hands, thrilled. "Wait till I tell Vera, she's going to be devastated! She has the biggest crush on the masked man, always thought he was so mysterious and sexy. And now he might even be un-masked!"

"Uh, Mrs. Carlisle, it would be best if we kept this investigation under wraps, we don't want any press to swarm towards this. This sample may not even be enough to form any kind of significant DNA sequencing, and then there's cross-matching it with our records, it may be totally inconclusive," Riley said to her.

"Don't mind my partner Mrs. Carlisle, she's always seen the glass as half-empty," joked Valentine. "Although, regarding the press, she is right."

"I usually am, like 95% of the time."

...

They got official statements from the couple and left them to their evening. There was more work to be done the rest of the night that Alfie had to return too. They walked together towards the car, "I'm sorry you didn't get him."

"I'm over it, this is the next best thing. DNA evidence, this has never happened before." He held up the test tube like a prize; "This is my ticket out of this task force. You know Maggie been giving out to me about the late nights, says I don't spend enough time with her or Alyssa—"

"Okay, but—"

He was so overjoyed he wasn't listening anymore; "We have him, we finally, finally have him."

She held his shoulder; "You're busy, I'll take the sample to the lab."

He frowned at her; "What? You hate being a runner, I'll tell a rookie to do it."

"I still feel bad for what happened. And you know I know how to expedite the process, any rookie would just stutter and let the entire CI department snicker in their faces. I'll make sure it gets there safely and is first in line to be analyzed."

Unfailingly, he trusted her; you shouldn't Alf, you really shouldn't. "Okay, it's yours," he placed it into her outstretched palm without a second thought.

"You go home to your family, Alfie, it's been a long night." He gave a tired but thankful smile at that, the guilt chewing at her insides.

It was an endless repeat of one foot forward and then white hot pain biting a chunk of out his leg. His skull was like a pressurized container moments from exploding after he'd landed face first into that flat. His senses were going into overdrive, the world pressing on him from all sides as he tried to focus on the pinprick in the canvas of his mind, a pitiful beacon that assured him he was going in the right direction. He shuffled the dead weight of his injured leg after the other, on his way to the detective's home.

The bullet had an exit wound and he wasn't losing blood rapidly but if he didn't get help within the next hour, or at least bandage it, then he was a dead man. But there was unfinished business. He stuck around as long as he could to overhear Knight and Valentine collecting a sample of his blood off the floor. He was going to get shit for his costumes from Foggy tomorrow, it's knife proof but it ain't bullet proof Matty.

If he made it to tomorrow.

He reached the staircase of the fire escape. He hooked his good leg over the railing, and swung the other over, a rod of agony shot through him, he bit down on his tongue until he tasted blood. The world on fire was ablaze with no hope of dampening down. He trudged down the steps, his footwork was messy though...

I can't lose consciousness now, I have to reach her, I have to…

When he forced his eyes open he realized that he had fallen down the last flight of stairs to her apartment. His entire good side felt like it was broken and inflamed. I'll be getting a dozens bruised for that. He hoisted himself to standing and pushed the window open, she was almost home coming up the stairs and muttering to herself.

He fell into her apartment, blood oozing out of the wound, the darkness was calling for him once more as he felt faint. The keys were inserted into the lock, two clicks felt like a decade.

"Detective," he grunted weakly, failing to sound menacing.

"Fuck!" She cursed, clutching her chest, startled.

"You…destroy that sample…"

She leaned backwards and shut the door; "Calm. Down."

He gasped, trying with all his might to stay awake, "I won't…until I watch you burn that evidence..."

"I can't do that."

Fear shot through his heart like another bullet, "We had an agreement!" The sudden outburst, was like another blow to the head. It caused him to sway backwards, he gripped onto the windowpane.

"Listen to me first! Valentine will constantly check on this until the results are released," Knight got the sample out of her backpack. Matt knew Valentine would treat it like his baby; it was his saving grace in the investigation at the moment.

"I can't just get rid of it."

"And the alternative? You get what you want…you find out who I am."

"That wasn't part of the deal, either." She touched her chest, "I intend to uphold my word."

He hung his head low, a deranged chuckle escaped his mouth; "Then what's your plan, detective?"

"I will give the lab a sample, but it won't be your blood, it'll be mine." She walked over to the sink and tossed it into the garbage disposal. "Trust me now?"

"No, but I'll take that." Matt took a deep breath; he could keep it together for just a few more minutes, then he definitely had to leave; "Although, if at any point…you decide to change your mind—"

"You know where I live, got it." She touched her right hand to her heart; "No threats from my end, I will protect you, as promised, D."

"You...you do what you have too."

She started towards him, Matt leaned back, the windowpane felt like the only stable surface in the entire living room where the floor had become water. "He got you," she observed, an unexpected concern filling her voice, "you're paler, and you're not standing right."

"I'm fine," he lied, quite poorly.

She squinted at his leg, his blood dripping on her floor; "You need a doctor… or I can help; I've removed bullets before. But I assume the costume is kind of a like a jumpsuit, all off or all on kind of situation, it's up to you." He shook his head slowly, he would not take that risk; he'd rather die. "Alright sure, put on a brave face, why don't you? Do you have someone you can go too?"

"Sort of." He replied, in that exact moment completely doubting whether even Claire was willing to help him now. And if there wasn't Claire to give him aid, then he had no one. He was only a handful of blinks from passing out, and the last place he wanted to lose consciousness was in a cop's apartment.

The pain was mind numbing then, his sole focus was on finding refuge elsewhere; he angled his body out the window; "I need to go."

He was going to make it to the morning. He had too.

Apologies for any grammatical errors and the length! I wanted to get this out ASAP, and will be editing it further.