Posted two chapters today! Make sure to read Chapter 11, essentially just split one big chapter, there had to be a natural break between the two because of Matt's condition. Fanfiction has been a bit glitchy, and no ones been getting emails about updates, including me. I've notified the site. In the mean time I'll republish some chapters to make sure everyone gets an email.

Three weeks later...

Riley

Tomorrow she would be back to work officially. The day before that, Riley and Tommy sat inside the conference room at Nelson & Murdock, waiting. It seemed like Murdock was going to be a no show again, he'd been absent for a handful of their meetings already. It looked like Nelson was running the show solo. Ms. Page was stretching the limits of her job description as legal assistant since the workload doubled between the two of them.

"What's taking them so long?" Complained Tommy, restless as usual, even she was getting bored of waiting for their attorneys (or attorney) to sort their shit out.

Riley stood and listened more closely to their conversation in the reception outside. "Eavesdrop, much?" Scoffed Tommy, she shushed him.

"I'm really worried about him, Foggy," Ms. Page said, her growing frustration obvious. Nelson sounded less prevailed to tell the story he'd been repeating to everyone on a loop."He's fine, you saw him, he needs the time off."

"I still don't understand why he won't let us do something about it," Page said, clearly at the end of some line. "A little while ago he came in with a busted lip, I never said anything, and after a while I stopped asking. Because I wanted to give him a chance to tell me himself, but I can't just ignore-" she rose her voice and Nelson shushed her quickly. The rest of their conversation was completed in hushed tones.

From the sound of it Murdock was either a drug addict or very ill. Franklin wasn't as a crafty a liar as he thought he was. And whatever lies Murdock had Nelson tell her, Karen was not on it with them. It didn't make a difference to Riley, as long as she was getting the legal representation her brother needed she'd take either of the attorneys.

"I apologize for the delay," said Nelson joining them shortly after.

Riley returned to her seat; "No show of your partner again, Nelson? You should change the name of the firm."

Nelson looked embarrassed, but he wasn't flustering for answers like before, "I suspect he'll make a full recovery this week, any day now, in fact."

Then, there was talking outside the conference room, and a loud and excited Karen Page. Riley angled her chair towards the door to see what it could be. "Well I'll be damned," said Nelson under his breath.

Miraculously, Matthew Murdock walked into the conference room. From the way everyone was reacting, no one was expecting to see him upright. Knight's eyes went round as she took him in, there was quite a distinction from how he was a few weeks ago compared to now; he was walking slower, limping a little, almost using his cane for stability rather than direction.

"Jesus Christ, did you run into a wall Murdock? Like, 50 times?"

There was a beat of stunned silence. And then Foggy burst out laughing, slapping the table. She was sure some of the laughter was masking his nervousness. Nervous...but why exactly?

"You know, most upstanding members of society would be appalled by some of the comments you've made about me," said Murdock coolly. Whatever awkwardness she'd created when she asked him about Sweeney seemed to be nonexistent, she appreciated the banter they could have again. No matter his physical appearance, everything seemed normal.

"I'm just appalled by the fact that you look like hell." She stood and leaned into his face taking a closer look at the yellowing bruise on his temple, he almost ducked from her but he didn't, his shiftiness threw her off a little. "Do you need me to arrest someone?"

"Absolutely not." He immediately went to touch the bruise, suddenly conscious of it. "But thank you for the offer."

"Yeah, long time no see," she went back to her seat.

"Yeah," Nelson concurred scowling at his partner, not enthusiastic to see him. Instead of his usual seat beside Franklin, Murdock sat closer to Tommy.

"Thanks for taking the lead, I'm glad to be back," Murdock said to his partner in an official tone. Too formal for people who had been friends since college for Christ's sake.

"No problem," Nelson responded, stiff as wood. She felt like she was in the caught in the middle of a heated argument, that was completely silent.

"We've missed you Murdock, I know my sister has," Tommy smirked. She gave her brother a sour look.

"I'm glad you've recovered from the accident," said Riley, "have you been keeping track of everything at home?"

"Yes, even though I'm not here, my partner and I were working together behind the scenes. I would never leave a case like this voluntarily," said Murdock. It sounded a bit too rehearsed for her, but she couldn't tell what was going on behind those red glasses. "So, let's get to work."

She scrubbed at a pesky piece of penne on her plate as Tommy put away the place mats in the drawer. Riley suggested that they make the time in their schedule to have dinner together.

"Okay be honest, how was the pasta?"

"Pretty good, you followed the instructions on the packet down to a T." Tommy pointed into the trashcan where she had failed to hide the instant pasta packets she'd grabbed from the 24 Hour mini mart across the street.

"Ah shit," she put the plate she was washing down, "You just had to look in there, didn't you?"

"Thought this was supposed to be a homecooked meal?"

"We are at home, and it was cooked," she argued, badly.

He laughed; "mmhm, took a lot of effort to boil a pot of water."

"I baked that pie, though." He gave her a flat, unconvinced look; "Okay I bought that pie," she admitted, chuckling to herself, honestly her culinary skills were horrific, it was a miracle the kitchen had not burnt down. "I forgot I promised dinner, alright? Totally spaced out on it, but wanted to come through."

"You're back at work, you're busy. It's cool. Kudos, sis."

"So," she lifted her brows at Tommy; "That girl at AA, I saw you talking to her." He'd finally agreed to go to them, they were having a positive effect it seemed.

Tommy looked politely unfazed by her teasing; "What's with the suspicious look?"

Riley shrugged noncommittally, placing the plate she washing onto the drying rack; "She's cute."

He made an annoyed grunt; "Don't tell me you ship me with her."

"I never said that," she replied, innocently, "You looked like you were hitting it off when I picked you up."

Tommy thought about it for a moment, chewing his lip; "I'm not ready, after Natalie, it hard not to see her everywhere." He stared at his shoes, despondently; "Even in that girl."

Riley felt a little guilty for reminding him of it, but she had to help him move on somehow; "I get it."

"What about you? You used to push guys aside left and right."

True. Not like any of them ever turned out to be successful, her love life was akin to finding a needle in a haystack. She came to a point where she was done with boys wasting her time, especially with how hectic her life had gotten after her promotion and then even more recently after the Fisk shooting. I almost died; I can't waste my life on worthless relationships.

"I don't have time to date, and when have any of my relationships lasted anyway?" She reminded him. Tommy had not been there for the majority of it, but he'd witnessed enough to know that Riley was not very lucky in that department.

"What happened to- who was it?" He tapped his chin, thinking, she gave him a sidelong glance. Siblings could be great company and all, but also insufferable.

Then he snapped his fingers when the name returned to him; "Gus,"

She groaned; "No, no, no." She hated reliving old flings, it always felt like she made the same mistakes again and again.

"I liked him."

"Yeah so did I, then he made a sexist joke and I was like 'nah, man,'" she sassily waved a finger through the air; "I was happy to see the back of that head." Somehow the guys she dated always an underlying malignancy that became apparent too late.

Tommy was snapping his fingers vigorously, like he did when he had an idea, it usually wasn't a very clever one;

"You should ask out that lawyer!" He burst out with too much enthusiasm for her to even take it as a joke.

"Don't—"

"Yes, the blind one. He's a good looking lad," he shrugged. Thomas liked to make a gag and pretend he was a teenage girl babbling on about boys; "I mean like I don't know what the rest of his face looks like without the glasses but, I mean that jawline."

She rolled her eyes, she would never even consider dating a lawyer. "Shut up, you know rather than get nosy into my personal life, why don't you bring that lazy ass over here and help me do the dishes?"

...

Around midnight Tommy was fast asleep in the guest room. It was comforting to have someone else in the apartment. She couldn't remember the last time they'd lived together. It had a time stamp though; I'll give it three months tops. At some point her brother would decide that he wanted to part ways and live on his own. He was innately a drifter no matter how many times he said he wanted to set down roots.

A stable job, a purpose in her heart, was what set Riley apart from her brother. She'd never leave New York, or the police force. She'd trained for years to separate herself from who she was. She couldn't let it all slip away.

Then there was a muffled ringing noise coming from her armoire, perplexed, she pulled the drawer open.

The burner phone.

She snatched it from its place between her gym clothes and socks, staring at the screen and the little phone icon shaking. She forgot it was in there. There was only one number stored in it; only one person it could be.

She pressed the answer button and lifted it to her ear. She intended to bypass the hello, but he spoke first.

"Knight."

"Why are you calling me?" She wanted to know, in a shouted whisper.

"I need to know our next step. I'm on your roof," he said calmly.

Her anger flared. The balls on this one. She shut her bedroom door and spoke at full volume; "you're not meant to call me; I didn't schedule a meeting—"

"We need to talk," he cut her off brusquely. "And I'm not leaving until you do."

She licked her lips, she'd been given a new case that week at work, and with Tommy's upcoming trial it was hard to focus on so many things at once, but she had not forgotten the looming threat of Sweeney. "Fine. I'll be there in five."

She hung up and pulled on a sweater. In the suddenness of Daredevil's visit she forgot she wasn't living alone anymore and jumped out of her skin when Tommy walked out of the guest room.

"Where are you going?" He asked rubbing the sleep from his eyes, but noticing the sweater she was wearing that was too warm for indoors in this weather.

"To the roof, for some alone time."

He squinted at her concernedly; "You're not smoking again are you?"

"No, fresh air only."

He gave a sleepy half-nod, "okay, 'night then," he yawned and returned to his room.

What would he think if he found out what I was doing? She asked herself as she walked over to the windowsill. Her little brother didn't care much for police protocol or the law, unless it he was in the thick of it like he was now and she forced him to take things seriously. With that in mind; the Knight siblings were survivors and bandits, no matter how many badges and uniforms you put Riley in or suits you put Tommy in. They looked out for theirs and their own, and Tommy would definitely call her out if he thought she was doing something stupid and reckless.

She halted and considered getting her emergency gun from the fireplace. He's recovering from injuries though, he won't make it far if he tried anything. A gun firing would also set off too much attention anyway, definitely Tommy's.

Riley lifted the window and swung her leg over onto the landing. It shook a little beneath her added weight, it's about as stable as a stack of cardboard boxes. She hadn't come out there since she stopped smoking and doing whatever recreational drugs cops aren't meant to do.

Nevertheless she was on that rooftop three minutes later, and Daredevil was waiting for her for another one of their customary chats.

"You've clearly made no attempt to recover before going back out again," she said, hugging herself as the wind nipped at her clothes.

"I haven't been that active lately. I didn't like how things were left. I thought it was necessary we followed up."

He was favouring his right leg. "You got shot in the leg, you shouldn't be moving, let alone scaling buildings."

"I've been through worse."

She scoffed; "I don't care if you got some black market surgeon to patch you up, you need proper medical attention."

"I've gotten it," he said, "I can't believe how much you care, detective," he mocked.

"Oh please," she shook her head at his brazen faced comment. "You could've just left the convenience store alone, y'know. Then you would be fine now."

"I was there first."

"We had it covered."

"It was three versus two," he contended. "The thief holding the woman hostage? He was a millisecond away from blowing her head open. Trigger finger, that one," he crossed his arms; "He would've shot her, and then you."

"Oh really? And how would you know he had a trigger finger?" She glared at him.

"I just did."

"You just did," she stated, cynically.

"I trust you dealt with the sample of my blood."

"I did, and Alfonso was not unhappy, he yelled at the CI's, which was entertaining for anyone who wasn't me." She knew what it was like to be hitting a wall with an investigation, you were basically giving yourself a concussion. The guilt still bothered her when she pondered on the subject for too long.

"Anything on the vigilante task force?"

"You're in the clear for now. The DA currently has no interest in you, and Alfie's mother isn't well, he flew down to Florida to see her. His second in command is a dickwad, about as shallow as a puddle, there's no problem there."

"How is the DA involved in this?"

"That's on a need to know basis." She was working against DA Reyes anyway. I saved her and her daughter's life, and she thanked me for that, definitely won't thank me for what I'm doing.

"This task force, is her work?"

"Like I said; need to know."

He wanted to prod further but could tell she wasn't going to budge on the topic; "And what about Sweeney?"

"We barely have anything on Sweeney at the precinct," said Riley. "He's been gone for more than a decade."

He seemed to be a lot more in control of his reaction when she mentioned Sweeney. "It makes sense, Kitchen Irish were like Fisk's underlings, when he was in power he made them scatter."

"I see getting shot in the leg has changed your temperament. Was it the blood loss?"

"More like time to build a new perspective."

"I don't know how else to help Tommy at the moment, but I'm certainly in a better position now that I'm back at work."

"Catching him is important but we can do more for the city in the time being."

"'Do more?'" She reiterated disdainfully and chuckled. "I should have put this agreement in writing, because it's obviously hasn't stuck with you yet. The only time we need to interact is when we're going after our common enemy; otherwise we stay out of each other's way. I made that clear."

"There's an arms dealer, a Domenico White," Daredevil went on, ignoring her, "heard of him?"

Alarms lit up in her head, "maybe," she said tentatively.

He crossed from the other end of the roof and leaned on the wall she was nearest, catching the interest in her tone. "I have a lead on him. Someone you know in Metro General may be able to give us the information to take him down."

"And who would that be?"

"He's the boy you saved in the alley, the one who was shot?"

"Wes Cleon?" She had not given the kid a thought for weeks now, with so much else going on.

"Domenico recruited Cleon when he was 14. He's the reason the kid's in the hospital."

She sighed resignedly, "What information could Wes give, now? He hasn't budged from his stance on protecting that son of a bitch in weeks."

"He must have an idea of the guard rotations around Domenico's base. The boss was out of town when Wes got shot. The kid's been asking Nelson whether he can leave the hospital soon. But he can't while he's under arrest. He's lying about everything, because he knows when Domenico is coming back, and wants to get of the city ASAP. When his boss does come back, I'm going to shut him down." Daredevil tapped on the wall, leaning to in her direction. "And if you get to the scene first, it would look spectacular for your reputation."

It came barreling out of him so fast, she didn't know how to reply at first; "this is all music to my ears; except I don't have the jurisdiction to see him. Murdock made sure of that."

For a second she could have sworn he smiled, but it was too dark to be certain, "I'm sure if you ask nicely he'll change his mind."

She frowned, "doubt it. He's already knee deep in my personal life, I don't want to owe him any more favours." She couldn't possibly face him again with something completely unrelated to Tommy's case after their conversation on Sweeney. It had been mortifying, since she obviously read him wrong. She thought Murdock would've wanted real justice, but he had people he had to protect too, and sometimes staying away and playing it safe was the way to go.

Riley was just too stubborn to grasp the concept of it.

"Maybe Murdock knows something," she suggested, "he's spoken with him more than I have."

"He doesn't talk to Murdock the way he talks to you."

She rolled her eyes; "jeez are you eavesdropping on everyone in my life, now?"

There it was; that sly smirk again. It disappeared just as swiftly as it came; "talk to him, and we could actually make progress on our vows to make a difference in Hell's Kitchen. You're a vice detective—"

"Recently unsuspended vice detective," she interrupted him with a finger, "who get's involved where she should not. They were issuing warnings to me like I was some kindergartener. I don't have any more chances to spare; I just got my job back." Getting to wear her badge again had been the highlight of her week; heck her month, she was not about to relinquish it all over again.

He gave an offhanded shrug, "that didn't stop you from running into the heist at the grocery store, saving everyone there."

True. Alfie could have gotten into huge trouble for that but he didn't, he advocated for her to the captain. "Yeah, but it's not the same."

"It's still your duty to get guns off the street, right? Stop more cases like Wes Cleon from happening. That's still important isn't it?"

She bit her lip, thinking about what he said and exhaled roughly, "of course it is."

"Then what's stopping you? Captain Humphrey?" Daredevil queried, egging her on, growing more steadfast with his argument. "Fuck what he says. You're already breaking the rules at this second, what's a harmless chat with a teenager going to change?"

He was annoyingly right. "It depends, is the lawyer going to let me see him?"

He gave her a half-smile; "I'll have a word with Nelson & Murdock, they're very accommodating."

"They better not act surprised to see me there, D," she warned him. "Alright then, Domenico White; we're shutting you down."

The next day, one of the rookies she had been training was on sick leave. With the precinct still being understaffed, Riley worked on the case he was assigned too. She had to pick up a witness who was at the crime scene, it was a no brainer. It was towards the end of the day anyway, and she could get this done quickly.

She parked the squad car outside Fogwell's gym and strolled in, it would be closing soon but she reckoned she would try her luck anyway. The hallway had notice boards on them, old flyers of boxing matches layered over each other. There was the faint smell of sweat that she was familiar with.

Riley had not stepped foot in a gym in months. Catching pneumonia while in the ICU had weakened her, and she'd loss a lot of muscle mass. To this day her condition still made her short of breath, the doctor instructed her to avoid strenuous activity as much as possible.

But it was hard, for someone like he to follow the doctor's orders, even though he was right, she could feel the strain of any physical activity immediately and it lasted for a while too. It was going to be a slow journey to regain her prime state of health again.

Fogwell's ring was in the centre of the gym and overall the whole place empty. She spotted a man packing mitts into a bag, she recognised him from the ID she'd researched before coming.

He looked her over, as she was not dressed in gym attire; "Can I help you, miss?"

"Detective Knight," she showed him her badge, "I'm looking for Justin Bronson, I believe he's one of your students, Mr. Walsh."

The trainer folded his thick arms, and squinted suspiciously at her; "What are they saying he did?" In her peripheral vision she saw that Walsh was not alone in the empty gym. Someone else was at one of the punching bags, taking swings at it; the place was also dimly lit.

"Witnesses place him at the scene of a break in three nights ago. I'm just here to pick him up for questioning." She could already tell he was going to make this simple task difficult for her somehow.

"Well it wasn't Justin," he said, proving her right, "because he was practicing his jump kicks with me last night, and his technique was still half-assed. You've got the wrong kid, officer."

"Late night practice?" She repeated, nonplussed. "You close early on Tuesdays and Thursdays."

"Some customers I allow to stay late," he nodded at the occupied punching bag, the person she'd spotted was going at it hard. She did a double take; the wide, well-built shoulders she'd never noticed beneath the dress shirts, the floppy brown hair…she recognised who it was.

Flummoxed, she spaced out on the reason she was there at all; "well—um. I'm afraid I still have to bring him in."

"He's good kid, that Justin. He wasn't there," affirmed Walsh, obviously protecting the teenager he trained.

"He can tell me that himself at the station," she handed Walsh her business card. "Either someone will be on their way to his house this second, or they'll come by tomorrow, he can't avoid it," she said gravely. Walsh gave her a dirty look; she wouldn't be surprised if he tossed her card into the trash after she left.

Walsh threw the sack of mitts over his shoulder and went to the storeroom. Riley looked over at Matthew Murdock pummelling the punching bag. She took a moment to admire the definition of his arms and shoulder blades, but couldn't help but notice that his form could be improved.

As she walked over to him, she wondered when he started boxing and who taught him. Did he always know how to throw a punch? Did his dad teach him before he became blind? If so, it had been a very long time ago.

She sidestepped the swinging punching bag, his fists were wrapped in white cloth and there was sweat on his brow. His jaw was tight, mind focused. He'd been at it a while.

"Murdock?" She said out loud. He was in deep concentration, but stopped and tried to catch the punching bag as it swung to and fro, ferociously. She put her hand out and helped him stop it so that they were on opposite sides of it.

"Detective," he panted.

"I am in shock," said Riley, laughing. "You box."

He smiled; "Got to stay in shape somehow, Knight."

She stopped leaning on the punching bag and changed her position to lean on the boxing ring; "That's very true," she agreed folding her arms. Murdock was constantly a mystery to her, no matter how obvious his story appeared to be. The cut he got from the bike messenger accident had healed nicely, enough that it didn't bother him when he boxed.

"Can't be blind and also diabetic, right?" Murdock said. They both laughed. Still, she was caught off guard that he would even try to exacerbate that kind injury, it wasn't fatal, but still deep nonetheless. Perhaps he has a higher pain threshold than I thought; perhaps he's got a lot of aggression to unleash and it can't wait. Did it have something to do with the coldness Nelson directed towards him at the meeting? Or was it something else?

"How long have you been coming here, for?"

"Years now." He pointed at where Walsh had stood; "Kieran always closes it late for me."

"Battlin' Jack Murdock." She gestured to the notice board she'd seen when she walked in; "He was your dad?"

"Yeah."

She tried to imagine what childhood might have been like for Matthew Murdock. It must have been hard to support a family off the wages earned from boxing matches, and also caring for a blind kid. "You had to inherit that stubborn attitude from somewhere," said Riley. Murdock snickered.

"Can I make a suggestion?" She said, he looked confused. "About your form?"

"My form?" He licked his lips, biting his bottom one, as if trying not to laugh at some joke she was missing. "I didn't think there was anything wrong with it."

"A few things."

He nodded; "sure," he angled himself back to the punching bag, in the ideal position he needed to be in. It seemed like he had to have been in that spot a million times before to know exactly where it was. She stood on his right hand side.

"You're going to show me some moves," he said, that beguiling, uncanny expression playing on his face that she could never read.

"Just making some adjustments."

The edge of his mouth quirked up a little. "Your leg still shaky?" She asked.

"Yeah."

"To make it a little easier on it. When you do the right hook, try to position yourself here," she held onto his shoulder and nudged his feet apart with her own to what she wanted.

"Part your feet like this, and swing into the punch with your hips."

"To generate enough force to get at that malevolent punching bag," he joked.

She worked on fixing his arms; she held on his right forearm and moved it by the elbow upwards into the formation of a right hook. Then with her other hand she brought his left to cover his face. "Always have this up, to block the opponent."

She realised he wasn't wearing any glasses. She'd never seen his eyes. They were probably too private for anyone outside of his circle of friends to see. They didn't look up at her face this close to his, which threw her off for a moment; until she remembered he was blind and had no idea exactly where her head was in relation to her body.

His eyes were pale green, youthful, and kind. She was holding the back of his left hand, and closed the fingers into a fist. His head was lifted straight ahead in the direction of the punching bag. But then, he moved it to face hers, as if he could feel her stare on his cheek. Her heart raced; that five o clock shadow, the bone structure of the chin, the mouth, there was something suddenly so different about that part of his face; as if she was seeing it for the first time but also seeing it for the hundredth time.

Where exactly has he been these past few weeks? Was it an accident?

She swallowed, pushing away the absurd thoughts. Stop it Riley, stop it now. She let go of him, running her hands through her hair sheepishly; "ahem, yeah so overall this will ease the weight on your leg."

The position she'd left him in waned but then he got back into it and did the punch. "Better." Before he could even respond she announced; "I got to go."

"Nothing else to show me?"

"I have to be somewhere else."

"Alright, thanks for the tip, see you soon then."

"See you."

Just before she was out of earshot of Murdock. She glanced at him one more time. He was doing an uppercut and right hook combo...

And it was perfect.

He was striking with power and precision, and the silhouette was eerily similar to…

She shook her head, deciding she'd have better wits about her once she'd had some dinner.

Oh my God Riley, don't be an idiot. He's blind, for God's sake.

Oh yeah guys, we're getting there ;) My finals are around the corner but once that's out of the way, I'll be writing more often. Trying out labelling before each POV change, I hope that makes things clearer for some readers! What do you think? Anyway, thanks for the feedback! And thank you for your patience!