Dani's POV
(Nightwing27th)

After dropping Alison off at her place, I drove to mine. I went in through the roof access so I wouldn't wake Mary. I already did that once today. I walked to my bed and sigh. After what I did, I might as well have killed him. But it had to be done. No one will ever suspect Alison. She and Chase are safe. I think that makes what I did worth it. What I have to live with. Like I told her, no one can ever know. Not even Matt.

I sighed again and then headed for the shower. After, I dressed and threw on a dark colored wig. Maybe one of these days I'll just be blonde all the time. Or Angel will go dark. Either way, this hair thing is starting to annoy me. I tossed my old clothes on the washer and then put the duffel bag back where it goes. The gun is at the bottom of the river, the bullet is in a dumpster on third, and Alison's bloody clothes are burning at a homeless camp near the docks. I took care of everything.

Too bad I can't do the same for the memories. For both of us. I walked to my desk in the front room and sat. More like plopped, in a very defeated manner. That's how I feel: defeated. He was telling the truth the whole time. I had my suspicions, but never truly knew. And Alison never gave him a chance. Though, I don't blame her. But, he did everything…for her. For Chase. To protect them from Fisk. The man we all thought was a villain died a hero, in my book.

I'm startled out of my thoughts by a soft knock on the door. I stand and hurry over to it. I open the door and find Matt. "Hi." I motion him in, closing the door behind him. I grab his hand and lead him to my bedroom, to put more distance between us and Mary's room. "What are doing here?"

"I couldn't sleep," he said. "I was on my way to the law firm, but I thought I'd see if you were here. How'd it go with Alison?" I was already steadying my heart rate, expecting that question. But it was still hard not to break down and tell him everything. Oh, my goodness, how am I going to do this? This is the first time she's come up and I'm already struggling. I sighed.

"Uh…well, she's taking it pretty hard. I wouldn't be surprised if she locked herself in her apartment, for a day," I said. And, yeah, right now, she probably will. But, of course, for the wrong guy. "She just doesn't do well with break ups. She takes everything to heart. But, I'm glad I went over."

"Is she okay?"

"Uh…I think she is…? But, it'll just take time." I tried to sound sure of myself, like I knew exactly what I was talking about. Because I don't. A person like Alison doesn't just bounce back from something like that. This will change her forever. Once you've killed someone, in self-defense or not, you're never going to be the same. That's a sad truth that goes with war. A war that Fisk started. And now I want him dead more than ever.

I could do it right now. Dig out my old riffle, head down to his place, set up across the street. Wait till dawn. Make it messy. Blow his head off. That's what I want to do, I almost need too. Someone's got to pay for this, and Fisk's a big enough target as any. I sigh and try to calm myself. My heart was starting to explode at the thought of Fisk exploding.

"Still going to the firm?" I asked and he nodded. "Mind if I tag along?"

"No," he shook his head. We headed out the door and down to my car. I decided driving was probably better, and he didn't protest. We got to the firm in a few minutes and then headed up the stairs. We walked up to the law firm door as it opened. Foggy stood in the doorway. He was clearly on his way out. And instantly I felt the tension. Foggy locked eyes on me. This is the first time he's seen me. He looked relieved, yet…I don't know, sorry for me?

I looked at Matt. "I'll be in in a minute." He nodded and then stepped into the law firm, past Foggy. The two barely looked at each other. Both Matt and Alison have told me about what went down between them. Foggy stepped out into the hall and closed the door. Though, that won't help. I'm sure Matt'll be listening. We stood in silence a minute.

"So how've you been?" he sounded defeated, too. "You look like-"

"I know," I offered a weak smile. "I feel like it, too." His eyes were locked on the scar on my face. I haven't covered it up. I'm forcing myself to get used to all the weird stares. It's not working. "Alison had said you were alive," he said. "But when the papers said different, I started to doubt it."

"Yeah, I'm not sure if I'm alive, either." I tried to keep eye contact, make him squirm as much as I could. I can't believe the way he acted. Yes, his best friend lied to him and he thought the other was dead. So what? I don't think most people sleep with their ex after that. "Look, I want to make something clear. I don't, honestly, care about what's going on with you and Matt, or what you thought or didn't think. But you cheated on Alison. In my book, you cheated on me, too. I mean…what were you thinking?"

"Look, I already got the third degree from Alison, and this really isn't any of your business."

"None of my business?" I scoffed and crossed my arms. "You hurt her, Foggy, which makes it my business. And, I don't care how many degrees you got from her, because you haven't gotten any from me."

"I don't want to argue with you about this-"

"Then don't. How about you shut up and listen? I don't care what you're reasoning's were or what you felt at the time—besides Marci. You royally blew it. Even after knowing Alison's history…her last boyfriend tried to kill her. Do you realize how hard it was for her to trust someone else like that?"

He opened his mouth and I shushed him. "No. I'm talking. And, she actually cared for you Foggy. She wasn't just a one night stand, like Marci." I saw the look on his face and became more enraged. "Oh," I do a slight airy chuckle, because I'm so mad. I mean, I am lived right now. "Wow, okay. I guess you really didn't care about her. Because when you cheat, you're supposed to apologize, first. Which you haven't done, by the way, and needs to be done. Second, if YOU CARED…you would stop seeing Marci and try to make it up."

"Alison said it was over, that she didn't want to see me again."

"Let me guess, she told you that when she first caught you with your pants down?" He didn't have to answer. "You're dumb, Foggy. And VERY insensitive."

"Okay, we can talk about this later." He took a few steps away.

"No, we can't. You'll be lucky if I see you again." He stopped and I walked up to him. "I thought you were better than that. I thought, 'of all the people, he won't let her down.' Look how wrong I was."

"So, now you're going to tell me how disappointed you are?"

"No," I shook my head. I walked closer to him, putting my face in his. "Disappointed doesn't even begin to describe it, Foggy. After the night I've had…you're lucky you're walking out of here." I turned and left, walking into the law firm. I didn't look back, didn't say anything else. That was it. Had I stayed even one second longer…I might've hit him

Alison's POV
(bellamysgirl)

I didn't sleep. I don't think I moved at all in three hours. It didn't seem like it was that long, until I finally looked at the clock, and suddenly it was seven am. Suddenly I have to get decent enough to take Chase to school. Suddenly I have to get dressed for work. Life doesn't stop when a life is lost, I guess. Especially when no one knows it's been lost. So I peeled myself off the couch and shuffled into the bathroom.

Though, in the back of my mind, I doubted Dani's words. Nothing ever stays completely hidden for long. It all comes out eventually. The whole thing felt like a ticking time bomb, just counting down the seconds until it all exploded back in my face. I was stupid for thinking I could get out of that warehouse without dying. Because I think a part of me might have. I wasn't mind-bogglingly numb. There was no bone-crushing pain.

Right then, as I closed the bathroom door, my forehead dropped into the wood to lean against it. Right now, as I finally let my eyes close. It felt empty. Like every inch of me had been hollowed out with a spoon. And I don't think it was just depression talking when I thought I would never find my filling. It's gone. It doesn't want to come back. I don't deserve for it to come back. I deserve a lot worse than this. I took in a breath and pushed off the door.

I moved over to the mirror and paused, seeing my reflection for the first time since around now yesterday. I looked awful. My hair was in shambles, pulling out of my ponytail in every which way. Purple bags lit up under my eyes. My eyes looked bloodshot, accompanying the pink, puffy cheeks below them. How am I supposed to cover up this? That thought made me glance down. My hands were still stained red.

A sudden jolt of anxiety hit my chest. It urged me to move, begged me to rid my hands of the blood. My skin crawled. I quickly hurried to the shower, pulling open the curtain before throwing on the hot water. I didn't hesitate to step under the steady stream clothes and all. I poured soap on my hands and began scrubbing, hard, until I all could see was foam. Yet no matter how hard I was scrubbing the blood stayed to some capacity.

There was a pink hue to my skin that was obviously not natural. So I scrubbed harder, using my finger nails to force it off. My chest felt too tight. Like I needed to loosen my own skin. Steam was starting to fill the tiny bathroom and my eyes stung. The stain was deep set. It wouldn't come off. I was desperate. I didn't even notice what I was doing to my hands until the water hit them, washing away the soap. I froze.

Scratches marred my hands on both sides, creating puckered pink lines that only made it look worse. But then it started to sting—badly. It felt like I'd just done it with a steak knife. My eyes were dry, but yet somehow they managed to push out tears, mixing with the shower water on my cheeks. My hands were trembling now, abused and raw, marred with a thousand little cuts. A sob forced its way out and I reached for the shower wall for support.

It didn't do much. My knees buckled and I slid to the tub floor in a wet, slightly bloody mess. How am I supposed to ever hide this? It won't even leave my hands. If Matt ever found out…I would lose him forever. There's no way he would forgive me for this. He would never look at me the same. Neither would Chase. That thought sobered me up a bit. I can't be here sobbing when he gets up. He'll already know something is off.

But he'll know something is really wrong when I'm still in the bathroom at seven forty when he wakes up for school. I took in a deep breath, let it back out, and did it again until I could stop the tears. Come on, Alison, pull yourself together. Do it for Chase. I climbed the shower wall, pulling myself up with my wobbling knees. My hands hurt terribly. But I worked through the pain to peel off my soaked clothes and leave them beside the tub.

Then I closed the curtain, and tried to act like I was taking a normal shower. I used twice as much shampoo as I normally would, and three times the amount of body soap, all in the hope that I wouldn't be blood-scented should I run in to Matt. A little more of the stain came off. My skin still looked pink and puckered around the white lines from my finger nails. There were ways past that. I could wear gloves. I could wear a long sleeved shirt. That's it.

I have a lot of long-sleeves that I barely use in my closet. I'll pull out one of those, maybe use some perfume? After ten years of bottling up your emotions, you learn how to shut them off. I did my best to do just that. I showered and dried my hair, put on fresh clothes and fixed my makeup, put on my shoes and started making breakfast. I was just putting pancakes on the table when Chase came from his bedroom.

He was dressed for school, his backpack in hand. I plastered on a smile. "Good morning, sweetie. How'd you sleep?" I asked, walking to him. I bent down and placed a kiss on the top of his head. All I could think of was what Wesley had said. Tell Chase about me. Tell him I loved him. "You made breakfast already?" he seemed shocked, looking up at me with round eyes.

I gave him a look, like he was being crazy. "Of course I made breakfast already, I make breakfast every morning." I gestured for him to go sit at the table and he did it with little rebuttal. I watched him a moment as he tore through his pancakes. You don't have to hide it forever. Just until he's old enough to understand what you've done to protect him. What I've done to protect him…just like what Wesley did to protect me.

Dani's POV
(Nightwing27th)

"You sure we should tell him?" I asked. We sat atop the metal roof of some warehouse.

"Yeah," the Mask nodded. "We can trust Urich to keep quiet. But he needs to know we're still fighting." I sighed. I don't think it's a good idea. But whatever. I'll play along. The whole point of this is that, with Nobu gone, his drugs are free for the taking. If Fisk took over, we can cut off some of his money. That'll be the cherry on the cake. By now I'm sure he knows about Wesley.

As usual, it's night. Easier for us to stay hidden. But mainly me. I was dressed as a normal person, jeans, sweatshirt, boots. My blonde hair was free flowing across my shoulders, capped off with a ball cap. Even if Urich found out who I was, he'd never think Matt was the Mask. Never. But he is a reporter, and reporters are crafty. They stick their nose where it doesn't belong. That's why we're here.

The only thing that would rat me out, and this goes for everyone, is the scar on my face. People see Angel with it, then Dani. Guess who just put two and two together. But, oh well. One day, someone will find out. The only question that remains is if Matt will be taking the fall with me.

Urich walked out of the building, finally, and to his car, away from us. The Mask jumped off the roof, landing by a dumpster. He grabbed his side and hissed. Urich turned around and saw him. "You like making an entrance, don't you?" Urich asked as the Mask took a few steps forward. I slid down the roof and onto the dumpster, then jumped onto the ground.

At first, Urich seemed startled. But as I walked closer and stood next to my partner, he started looking between us. Then he smiled and shook his head. "Should've known you two would pull a stunt like that."

"Actually, it almost wasn't a stunt," I said as his face slightly dropped. I hung back and tried not to let him see under my cap. "We need information," the Mask said. All business, as per stinking usually. Urich looked at the Mask.

"Haven't heard anything about a man in a mask beating on people," he said. "Thought maybe you quit on us. But since she's not dead, I take it that's not the case." He crossed his arms. "Somebody get a piece of you two?"

"We went the distance, it's all that matters."

"'Went the distance', huh? You sound like a boxer."

I smiled and the Mask chuckled. "Always a reporter." Well, good. We're all on good terms with each other. But, that's not why we came. I pulled one of the heroin packets out of my pocket and handed it to Urich. "What do you know about these?"

"All over the city. Heroin, pure like you've never seen. They call it 'Steel Serpent' on the streets." He gave it back. The symbol on this packet looks so familiar. Even the name sounds familiar, but I can't place it. Maybe something I heard in passing at S.H.I.E.L.D.

"Vladimir Ranskahov, before he died, said that Fisk arranged access to the Chinese and their drugs," I said. "The Russians are gone but the drugs aren't. Someone picked up distribution."

"You think Fisk picked up distribution? Disrupting his cash flow won't stop him."

"No, but it'll knock him off balance. Get him mad, maybe enough to make a mistake big enough to matter," the Mask said. Urich thought for a minute.

"I've got something I'm working on, might help push him over the edge."

"No, I want you to keep your head down until this is over."

"My head's fine where it's at."

"Really?" I said. "Vladimir's brother had the same idea."

"Point taken," he nodded.

"I heard rumors the Chinese were being run by a woman. Got a name?"

"No, you would've read about it."

"That Russian that Blake shot in interrogation," the Mask said, "there was a Chinese man in the back of his cab in an alley." Funny. I don't remember that mission. When did that happen? "Blind, carried a backpack."

"I've seen those guys around town. Would make sense. Nobody'd look at a blind man twice," Urich said. How VERY true. If only he knew. I really had to keep my mouth shut on that one.

"I know I don't," I cleared my throat. "Where've you seen them?"

"51st and 9th. No…10th. 51st and 10th. But that was a while back." He leaned back against his car. "How's this going to work with you two?" He looked at me. "Fisk thinks you're dead. You could just skip town."

"That's not my style," I said.

"Then what is? You both look horrible, and something needs to be done about your outfits."

"We're working on that part," the Mask said.

"There are too many people I care about here to leave. And even then, I might stay. Tyrants like Fisk shouldn't rule," I said.

"Then stay out of sight," Urich said. "I've only seen them during the day." He looked at the Mask. "So, you might want to go alone. Either way, you'll stick out."

"I'll dress down," he said.

"What?" I joked. "You think punching people is all we do?" They chuckled. "I'll tell you what, though. We keep them plastic surgeons employed. See? We can do this, we're already multitasking. Taking down Fisk while lowering unemployment." I started walking away as they chuckled.

I heard the Mask say, "Watch your back, Ben. Fisk is an animal…and we're backing him into a corner." I heard him follow me. Then I heard Urich's reply and laughed, "Yeah, I'd watch out for her if I were you."

I turned around, walking backwards. "You have no idea."

Alison's POV
(bellamysgirl)

Ben poured whiskey into three glasses on his coffee table. "Been trying to find a second source. There's a guy…who knew Rigolette back in the day…relocated to Florida," he started, glancing up at Karen. She decided to stand, whereas I opted to sit. It was always easier to hide what you're feeling when you can sink into cushions. Don't ask me how I know. "Just waiting to hear back."

He handed Karen a glass, then held the next one out for me. Honestly I couldn't think of a better idea right then. I took the glass with a small smile and took a deep swig. "What does that have to do with…It isn't about who he owed money to," Karen tried for the right words, hesitant.

Ben turned to her. "It's a connection. Bill Fisk owed money to Rigoletto. My source remembers anything about that- it's a piece of her story we can prove. From there-"

"There isn't going to be a 'from there' if we don't do something right now," Karen pressed.

I sat forward, rolling my glass in my hands. "What exactly do you think we can do, Karen? We work at a newspaper not Buckingham Palace." She looked disappointed, but nodded and sat on the arm of one of Ben's living room chairs. Silence filled the space between the three of us. I only came here tonight because Karen said it was important—and to get out of the house. Now it was seeming more pointless by the minute.

I took another drink from my glass and Karen stood. Here we go. "No, no- look, we need that story out there before it's too late," she urged, desperate. "Isn't there something you can do—either of you?" She looked between Ben and me, and I sighed. "Just post it yourself online," I suggested, short. "You don't need either of us."

"And who'll believe me when they start digging, huh? When they find…what Ben found, when he was looking into me." She became more deflated the closer her sentence was to ending. I never looked in Karen's file. Ben told me he had it, suggested I read it, but I never did. It wasn't my job to go digging around in her past. Nor was it Ben's—but he just couldn't help himself.

Ben sighed. "I'll see if I can shake loose any other sources. Write up what I've got tomorrow, give it to my editor. See what happens."

"No, Ben, bad idea," I shook my head, standing. "You know Ellison. He'll make you burn whatever you have. It'll never make it to print without credible facts and sources. You and I both know there's nothing else to find on this."

Karen frowned. "What are you saying, Alison?"

"I'm saying this is a witch hunt!" I threw my arms out at my sides, exasperated. "You expect us to wave our magic wands and somehow pull information that doesn't exist out of our butts!"

"That's not fair," she shook her head, crossing her arms.

I narrowed my eyes. My blood was boiling. "Not fair? What do you know about not fair, Karen? Guess what—news flash! We're not magicians. And we're not invincible. The more we look into this, the more we're all on Fisk's hit list. Ben and I are gonna be the ones getting burned if this goes wrong- did you ever stop to think about that, Barbie?"

"Okay," Ben let out a long, heavy sigh. He looked at me and I knew he was politely telling me to shut up. But something behind his eyes looked knowing, sympathetic. Like he got why I was saying it. I just shouldn't say it. Karen looked hurt and mortified at the same time. "We all agreed to do this together—knowing the costs. You can pull out of this at any time, Alison."

I inhaled. I should pull out. I should just say no way José and go home to my son. Keep myself and Chase extremely safe—especially after last night. But I didn't want Ben to be doing this stupid thing, going out and risking his life. So if you can't beat him, join him. Him, not Karen. I can't stand Karen right now. I squared my shoulders and shook my head, folding my arms loosely. "No. I'm staying."

"Good. Well, you might want to buckle up. Things are about to get a little hairy."