When Frank returns, Rory lays on the couch, her eyes alert and face glowing blue with the light of her computer screen, even though the sun is beginning to rise outside the window. He peers down at her screen as he slips inside. He catches a glimpse of something like craigslist, before she hears his footsteps and slams the laptop shut.
"Working?" She asks, turning to face him.
He shakes his head slightly. "Walking."
"To Karen's?" She smiles, sly.
"What are you doing on there?" He motions at her computer.
"What's next on the syllabus?" She deflects, taking a page out of his book.
"Sleep."
Rory rolls her eyes. "And after that?"
"We'll see."
"You overwhelm me with information," she sets her computer on the floor next to the sleeping dog and slides down into a horizontal position on the couch.
By the time Frank sits at the table to take stock of his inventory and assess what he might need for his ambush on the Chinatown ring, Rory's eyes are shut.
He considers- how many of them are there?
It seems a lifetime ago that he began planning this attack. Now thoughts of Rory keep infiltrating his work. The house in Vinegar Hill, mostly. He keeps picturing a shuttered up mansion full of creepy bastards and young girls. He tries to fight it, tries to focus on the Chinatown gang. It had taken him months to gather enough intel on their comings and goings to start planning an attack that would take out every last one of them. He couldn't start a new mission before the first was taken care of.
Nearly an hour passes before he finally has to concede.
The ambush will have to wait another day.
Frank opens Rory's file and finds the exact address.
He leaves the ammo at home. It'll be too tempting.
Before he takes action, he needs to investigate.
Nobody thinks much of Rory's missing birth certificate. Not Frank, not Jessie, the social worker.
But Karen searches through Eliza Skye's medical records at every hospital in the tristate area and comes up empty. There is no record of a pre-natal visit, much less a birth. Granted, an addict might not be the optimal example for prenatal care, but…
Karen expands her search beyond the tristate.
It takes forever, going through each individual system for each individual state.
Five hours later, her stomach growling in protest of her skipping lunch, Karen finally finds a record of Eliza in the year of Rory's birth. The only problem is-
The record isn't a hospital visit or a clinic appointment.
It's a prison record.
Eliza Skye, 18 months for drug possession in the Sunshine State.
No mention of a pregnancy.
Karen finally leans back and tears her eyes from the computer screen. She finally registers the protests of her stomach, and she grabs her purse, heading toward the elevators.
Eliza isn't Rory's mother. But who is? Where did Rory come from and how did she end up with Eliza?
How is she ever going to find out what happened with a long-dead drug addict over a decade ago? It won't be easy, unearthing any associates or friends- and even if she does, Karen has a sneaking suspicion not many of them will have been sober enough to have very reliable memories.
Karen finds herself at her favorite falafel cart without quite having a memory of how she got there. She interrupts her trail of thought long enough to order and pay. The smell of the food makes her stomach do another flip. Her office too far, she heads to the tiny park around the corner instead, and finds an empty bench. As she takes an enormous bite from her pita, mind still swirling around the best approach to uncovering Eliza's associates from twelve years ago-
"Skip breakfast?"
Karen jumps at the sound of the voice, so close to her ear.
She'd been so lost in her thoughts- and her falafel- she hadn't noticed Matt take the seat next to her on the bench. She swallows and wipes her lips.
"What are you doing here?"
Matt's eyebrow arches. "Happy to see me, I see."
Karen opens her mouth and then reconsiders. She takes another bite of her pita instead.
They sit in silence as Karen chews. Matt unwraps his own deli sandwich and takes a bite.
"So what brings you to my lunch spot, Matt? Let's be honest- you don't drop by without a reason these days. Is it Foggy? Is he okay?"
"Foggy's fine, as far as I know- More than fine, actually. He's a rising star at Jeri Hogarth's firm… But that's not why I'm here."
"What is it then?"
"It's Frank, Karen."
Karen's eyes dart away from Matt, involuntarily.
"Has he contacted you?"
Karen knows she doesn't even need to answer verbally. He's already read the spike in her pulse as a yes.
"So what if he has? Do I need to send a log of my phone calls and visitors to Matt Murdock?" Karen's anger is so close to the surface these days and the hunger and sleeplessness don't help. Who does Matt think he is? Lying to her for months, dropping a bomb on her and then showing up in her life months later, questioning her decisions?
"Wow. I guess I deserved that." Matt takes a sip from his coffee. He turns toward her, and Karen can't help but feel a jolt of electricity as she studies his stubble and the soft curves of his lips. But she looks away.
"Why do you care about Frank?" She asks, voice as flat as she can manage.
Matt hesitates, as if he's gauging how much to tell her-
"I think he might be in trouble Karen."
"Frank's a big boy. He can take care of himself." She stuffs the last bite of her falafel into her mouth and wonders if she should get a second on the way back to the office.
"I'm not sure he can. He's got a… protege."
Karen says nothing, but she knows he can tell that the information isn't a surprise to her.
"You don't think it's wrong, Karen? Training a twelve year old girl to…. fight? Who knows, maybe to kill, the way he does? Putting a child in danger?"
Karen shrugs. "What's more dangerous in this city, Matt? Training a twelve year old girl who wants to fight? Or not training her? Do you know how he met her?"
Matt's quiet. He doesn't know, and he doesn't want to admit it.
"Her uncle forcing her to cam on the DarkNet, Matt. Frank took care of him. He told her to call the police. But she wanted to go with Frank. Child Services were the ones who placed her with her uncle. So maybe it's not quite so black and white as you make it sound. As black and white as you might want it to be."
"Don't tell me you agree with what he's doing, Karen. I know you don't. We can't rely on vigilante justice, we have to make the system work-"
"When was the last time you went out with your mask, Matt?" Karen cuts him off.
"That's not-" He begins to protest, but she cuts him off again.
"The same? And how's it different?"
"She's a child Karen."
Karen turns to face him. "Maybe she is. But she's lived through a horrific, dehumanizing trauma no one should have to face, at any age. What makes you so qualified to know what she needs, Matt? You go out into the streets to protect your neighbors, to make the city safer, you have a vision of what this place should be- and I'm not saying there isn't courage in that- but Frank- Frank and Rory, they go out onto the streets to survive. It's what keeps them alive, and you and I, we might not like that. But it isn't our choice to make, Matt."
Karen slips her purse over her shoulder and stands.
"As much as we might wish it was." With a last glance at Matt, still sitting on the bench, holding the empty wrapper of his sandwich in his hand, she turns away and heads back to her office.
Note: Let me know if there's anything you're curious about and would like me to explore further! It's my first foray into the superhero/crime world and I'd love to know what aspects of the story (characters, events, etc) interest you guys the most!