PLEASE READ
So the following chapter involves the scene from season 2 Daredevil where Matt goes to visit Fisk in the prison. Remember the one where Matt threatens to prevent Fisk's beloved Vanessa from returning to the States with 6 dollars postage and Fisk slams his head into the table, and the guards do jack shit? Yup, that one. I didn't want to write it out word for word again because you've already seen it. Just imagine that there's no Frank Castle yet.
Now that everyone's on the same page. Enjoy the chapter!
Riley
Inside her car, she waited for Alyssa to come out of school. She wanted Maggie to sleep in since she had not been able to sleep for the past two weeks after Alfie was wounded.
She dialed Amy's old phone number for the first time in a while. But she was struck with the bittersweet reality when it no longer worked. If the telephone company had moved on, then it was finally time she did too. She locked her phone and leaned on the headrest waiting for the school bell to ring;
"I will protect him. I swear," she whispered to Amy's spirit.
When Alyssa came out of the school, skipping over to her car with her backpack jostling behind her, they made their way to Metro General. Besides for herself, Riley had come in and out of the hospital these past few months for different friends. It was actually a distressing thought that the hallways were getting more and more familiar to her, even the staff nurses. Fortunately, Alfonso should be discharged any day now, and she could tell Maggie was getting fed-up with the place.
Riley held Alyssa's hand as the walked down the hallway, she saw Maggie coming towards them, tired but attempting a cheery smile.
"I need to use the bathroom," said Alyssa tugging on her hand insistently.
"I'll take her," said Maggie. Alyssa held onto her mother's forearm, "thanks for picking her up from school," she gave Riley a half hug and then addressed her daughter; "did you finish your homework honey bun?"
"I don't know," Alyssa shrugged, avoiding eye contact. Riley smiled at the innocent exchange. That usually means no.
"That's not a proper answer," chided Maggie.
"Any word on the discharge?" Riley asked her.
"Every time I ask them, they keep changing what they say," she replied, agitated.
"Mum, I really need to go!" Alyssa whined at the adults.
"Okay, okay," Maggie told her, patiently. "Riles, he asked for you, I think there's something important he wants to discuss."
Riley nodded and moved to go past her to the room, when she snatched her hand and gave her a look of disquiet; "I know you two can be unyielding, especially when it's a matter of life and death. If you're going to do what I think you're going too then please think it through before going in headfirst. There are people on this side of things who love you too Riles."
Maggie was undoubtedly concerned Riley would go attack the Italians all guns and glory. Which was fair judgment, she proudly carried the description of hothead. "I will be careful okay?"
Alyssa was pulling her mother to the toilets and she let them go before the little girl peed herself.
As Riley neared Alfonso's room she saw him trying to get himself to stand with a walking stick. She frowned; he shouldn't be trying that without any assistance. He misjudged his footing and fell onto his butt. She dashed inside.
"Holy shit, are you okay?" Riley grabbed him by the underarms and hoisted him onto the bed. He was at least 10 kg heavier than her, but she found herself to be a lot stronger at doing that compared to a couple of months ago, thanks to Matt's training.
Alfie was still rocking in spasms of pain. He closed his eyes tight, sweat glistening on his forehead.
"What were you thinking? Call a nurse or something if you need to go to the bathroom," she scolded. She was glad Alyssa was not here and didn't have to see how weak her father was. "Is everything okay? What did the doctor's say?"
"I know, I know, I was just a little...a little light headed," he replied, sighing laboriously and opening his eyes. "I'm fine, you don't have to fuss," he told her as she was picking up the walking stick off the floor and arranging the blankets properly on his bed. "I'm glad you're here."
"Maggie said you wanted a word?" She handed him a glass of water.
"Thanks," he sipped on the water.
"Is this about those files you gave me?"
"Not quite. Guess what? Our friend Murdock is paying Wilson Fisk a visit in prison."
"What?" That was the last thing she expected to hear. She had left him the thank-you voicemail ages ago, and hadn't heard a peek from him since he came to visit her in the precinct even before Alfie was injured.
"He went there with Fisk's lawyer. Since you're somewhat acquainted with him after he repped your brother, I thought you should know." Alfie adjusted the pillow behind his back; "Or did you already know he would go there?"
"No I didn't. I mean we didn't talk about it when he...er—"
Alfie didn't know just how close Matt and Riley were beyond what he did for Tommy, or that they were lurking in corners of the precinct together, and definitely not the fact that deep down she thought about him as more than just a friend.
"—I don't know why he would visit him." Her thoughts drifted off, her curiosity would get the better of her eventually.
She needed to know what happened... she needed to know Matt was okay too, even if he was ignoring her.
"Maybe you should find out." If only you knew he was the one who saved your life. "It's strange for him to go to Fisk after all this time, don't you think? Especially after Xavier escaped?"
"We both agreed not to go down that rabbit hole again," she reminded him, crossing her arms. "Anything Fisk is out of sight out of mind," she said, after they'd nearly their lost sanity over trying to figure out which dirty cop Fisk hired on the shoot-out during his takeover of the Russians. "You always told me not to dwell on it, and it's kind of ironic how it was me lying in this bed and you were telling me this the last time we went over this."
"I know, but if he's onto something that has to do with what's going on now? Why not see what he has?" He shrugged; "its just Murdock."
Not half an hour later she was thinking it was crazy. It was crazy for him to go to Ryker's. But that was exactly what she was doing in that moment anyway, using up her gas, making the drive to the prison. She was on the bridge then, the greyish waters were brackish and choppy. The red brick and grey fortress was daunting to drive up to.
Riley parked near the entrance and admitted herself inside. At the guard in the post behind the window she showed him her ID and badge just before she went through security metal detector.
"And who are you here to see?" He asked after writing down her name in the list. She peeked down at it and saw Matt's name written two rows above hers.
"Is Matthew Murdock still inside?"
"Who's asking for Murdock?" A deep, baritone voice said behind her. She turned around; it was Fisk's lawyer, also known as Big Ben Donovan, partner in one of the largest corporate law firms in New York, with plenty of ties to the Stokes crime family. Benjamin himself was tall and domineering. He was broad shouldered wearing a charcoal suit and had salt and pepper hair.
Riley didn't say a word, but he narrowed his gaze at her as if calculating her next move;
"Have we met?" He asked.
"No, but I know who you are, I mean who doesn't?" she said, as pleasantly as she could muster. It was people like him (or rather snakes) who let big time criminals walk free, and to be completely honest, she wouldn't give two shits if a bus hit them the next morning.
"Well, I haven't had the pleasure," he said with a polished politeness.
"Detective Knight," the guard behind her piped up, she glanced at him and he gave her a cagey look. She saw the guard who was waiting on the other end of the x-ray machine take an interest in what was going on.
Yeah I could have introduced myself. There were pins and needles down her spine. She had a sense she was being ganged up on.
"Murdock had a meeting with my client, you just missed him," said Donovan.
"He left in quite a hurry," the guard added.
"If you need his contact details, I would be happy to send them to you," he offered.
"It's alright, I'll figure it out," she said, after barely getting a sentence in during the entire exchange. She didn't need another hint to tell her she was not welcome. That's fine I want to get the hell out of here too.
Riley handed back her security pass. "Thanks."
Matt
He was trapped in a storm cloud, trying to escape from an ever-growing tornado, swirling behind him. Yet he kept getting sucked back into it.
He held onto the back of the church pew in front of him, squeezing his eyes shut, exacerbating the pulsing pain from the bruise blossoming over the left side of face.
"Franklin Percy Nelson."
"No. It was me. Only me."
"I'll chop both the heads off of that snake! And I'll spend more than 6 dollars postage to bring you down..."
Fisk's thunderous voice ricocheted across the entire room and shook in Matt's head, then and even now as he sat in the empty church. Shaky breaths rattled through him.
He kept replaying those five minutes alone with Fisk in his head; he gripped onto Fisk's prison shirt, struggling to push him away after he slammed him into the desk four times, the jarring feeling he had as the guard's unflinchingly ignored the attack that was happening right before their eyes. He could still taste the steel table in his mouth, the spittle from Fisk's bloody mouth flying onto his glasses. Matt used every single goddamn ounce of self-control he had not to throw another uppercut, but risked giving away his true identity as Daredevil. Fisk tossed him back into the chair like a rag doll, and Matt didn't make a graceful exit either, tripping over the chair leg.
I shouldn't have gone there. I shouldn't have fucking tempted fate.
Just his luck; the very person who told him not to stir the past popped up three meters away from him.
"...Matt?"
He froze. She gave him a puzzled look and he knew she noticed something was off about him. He didn't even realize she was there until she was on the aisle with him. As Riley approached he didn't move a muscle, not even to turn to her, as if he stayed frozen he would appear invisible, but she saw him. She saw him in more ways than he knew.
"What are you doing here?" He asked stiffly, facing forward.
"You didn't hear me?" She asked. "I said your name three times." He didn't answer, but remained still as a rock.
"I've been looking for you," she said. "I haven't heard from you in a while."
"Isn't that what you wanted?" He said, unable to refrain from containing the bitterness. "For us to stay away from each other?" He was taking out his frustration with Fisk on her, but he was also mad at himself and at her for this distance between them. It was this intricacy where he wanted to be alone but also wanted her to be there too.
"I know," she sighed, cramming her hands into her pockets. But you don't say sorry.
"You visited Wilson Fisk."
"I did." And my anger got the better of me.
So I went to Ryker's to find you. The guard said you left in a hurry and his lawyer Donovan was there, sly bastard. He said I just missed you—"
"You went there?" He asked, with growing alarm. Just like that, another storm cloud was added. The cameras saw her; the guards would report that to Fisk that a Detective Knight was looking for Matthew Murdock less than an hour after he left. "How did you even know I was there?"
"We've kept tabs on who pays Fisk a visit." She sat in the booth and edged closer, but she hesitated after the cold welcome he gave. "I guess...I wanted to make sure you were okay."
It seemed like no matter how hard they tried to stay away from each other they couldn't. He turned to her and she gave, her breath hitched in her throat when she saw dried blood on his nose and the mottled bruise forming on his left cheekbone.
"Did Fisk do that to you?" She asked, tenuously.
For once he wished he ran into a lamppost and not what it actually was.
He smirked begrudgingly, revealing a tinge of red between his gums, "Yeah, when he broke his handcuffs like they were made of paper, and slammed my head into the table."
She was loss for words, "he attacked you? Where—where were the guards? What did Donovan do?"
He wiped his nose with his sleeve. His laugh was acidic and permeated the air between them, "nothing, as he ordered them too, and they were conveniently deaf."
She could come to her own conclusion on that as it dawned on her. "So he runs the prison," Riley stated, her hands trembling. She massaged her sternum just over where she'd been shot. He knew a phantom pain stirred in her whenever she was reminded of how she was wounded, but she played it off with indifference. He respected that, and didn't call her out on it. He wanted to tell her that he would never let anything bad happen to her again, especially at Fisk's hand, but he honestly did not know if he was capable of that anymore, of protecting anyone he cared about.
"Exactly. He runs the goddamn prison we put him in. And he knows who we are, he's done his research on them, Foggy and Karen and me," he stabbed at his chest; "I should've known, I underestimated him, he has the capability to turn any terrible situation in his favour." In Matt's rage he slammed the front pew and then swallowed a curse under his breathe before apologizing to the Holy Spirit for his outburst.
Riley stood up curtly, breathing hard, "I have to go back there."
Matt swiveled in his seat to her; "Riley, don't—"
"We can't just let him get away with assaulting you!" She hissed.
He stood up too and shushed her to keep her voice down in the church; he suggested they go outside to sit on the steps.
"What did you say to him?" She asked him once they were beyond the entrance doors.
He sat down but she remained standing a few steps below him so their heads were at the same level. He recounted the events to her; "do you know a Vanessa Mariana?"
As he told her what happened, a couple of times he had to convince her not to drive back to Ryker's and confront Fisk herself. Each time he was afraid she wouldn't listen to him, but each time she did, fortunately for his peace of mind.
"Well, he gave away the fact that he's in control didn't he? His ego got the best of him." She sat down beside him. "At least we're not totally oblivious to that anymore."
Matt flattened his palms over his glasses, and then took them off. "I was an idiot for saying that, for threatening her."
"I would've done the same thing."
He inhaled the fresh air of early autumn, had rained earlier that day, the oak doors of the church a little mustier than normal; the raindrops were still fresh on the fallen leaves on the sidewalk. But none of these helped. He lifted his head to the sky, taking deep breaths in, his chest rising and falling as if speaking to God directly.
"I knew I hurt people; but I had faith that God would forgive me for what I did. He would see I was his soldier," he rubbed his eyes, tenderly touched the bruise that still stung. He thought about Claire, the hurtful words she said to him when it was evident it would never work out between them romantically. She compared him to a martyr.
"You know, someone once told me that when I rid this city of one bad person, another will take root in his place. And in my head I just created this idea that I would do whatever it took to stop that from happening. Keep fighting. But it was naïve wasn't it?"
He's fighting the same demons over and over again.
"It isn't," disputed Riley. "I doubt myself everyday when I have to bring in another piece of shit trying to shoot up our city. I want nothing more than to storm back to Ryker's and kick that doughy fucker's throat in, but it wouldn't change a damn thing."
He wanted to laugh at her depiction of Fisk, if only he was that comical, but in reality he was bloody terrifying; "he's not going to stop Riley. He's up to something, you know he is."
"The Matt I know wouldn't let this stop him," she may have let a bit too much emotion slip in that statement, but he didn't want to let himself catch onto any hope of that either.
It felt like everything was moving so fast and they were already faced with another problem. If Stick was here he would tell me that having a normal life was not important in the grand scheme of things, not when there were greater stakes, not when there was a 'war' to be fought. But this is my war. Fisk is my war. How can I just leave it be? Do I drop everything I care about to fight it? Am I willing to do that? He regarded Riley, wondering if she would understand him if he told her that.
"When I was an orphan here, I used to come to this church," he told her instead, "I listened to people begging for release from their sorrows, for forgiveness, for some measly bit of hope. At night it was worse. Sometimes I couldn't sleep listening to their suffering. I had to break the promise I made to my father, well... because he's not here anyway," he shrugged a shoulder, and felt so empty. "But it seems no matter what I'm doing, I'm still letting him down."
I'm sorry dad, I'm so sorry. His mouth twisted and he couldn't face her anymore.
She lightly held his arm. "No, I think he would be proud of you. I know he's not here anymore, but...it must have been amazing to have a parent who loved you, and showed you that, and believed in you," she said. "And none of this is easy. There will come times when you think that it's not worth it, because nothing is changing, but you can't think like that. If you do, Fisk has already won. Because he hasn't stopped fighting, and neither should you."
He lifted his head to her. She was right, and he felt a little lighter, warmer, listening carefully to her.
"I never thanked you in person. For saving Alfie," she said attempting to fill the silence when he realized he had been absorbed in her words and her general presence he hadn't given her a response. "A little voicemail doesn't even come close to living up to what you did for him."
"It was nothing. You're welcome," he replied earnestly. For someone who was so graceful, he always felt clumsy and silly when people thanked him for something he did. Somehow he blundered less when taking the appreciation from clients, but not from people who were actually close to him.
"You let Xavier go. I know it's frustrating, but I'm glad you chose to save Alfie."
"There was no choice to make." He would make it again. "He asked a lot of questions for someone who just got shot, a lot of back talk, hell, he tried to get me to slip my identity."
"Yeah, definitely some stubborn shit he'd pull on the verge of death." They chuckled together at that. "He is one of the good guys, though. I know he is. He...he doesn't think you're a terrible person, by the way."
"Even though he shot me in the leg a couple of months ago?"
"Ah you remember that."
"I don't tend to forget when people shoot at me, especially when they don't miss."
"Well hopefully there won't be a next time."
"So I guess you patched things up with him?" Asked Matt. He knew Riley loved him and he was an anchor in her life, just like Foggy and Karen were in his.
"Yeah. We did," she said, with a content smile.
"I'm glad and I'm sorry," he said. "For what happened, I never meant to come in-between you two."
"I know," she nodded. "I'm sorry too. Can we start over?"
"Yes." Matt clasped her fingers; they were colder than his. She glanced down at their hands touching and she traced her thumb over his pulse. The sudden intimacy made his breathing unsteady but not in a dismantling way like it did when he was freaking out alone inside the church.
She lifted her eyes to him. As much as he wanted to soak in the moment of this beautiful day, the sun warming his back, her pulse quickening at the same pace as his was the longer her soft gaze wandered across his face. The wind from the West blowing the scent of her shampoo to him; his mind fell into the gutter once more.
Fuck. Stop it Matt. There's no use in this. She's not safe. No one is.
He let go of her hand and shook his head as if to shake out every single thought of her, but it was hopeless cause given she was a foot away from him.
"They know you were looking for me, and they're going to tell him, I'm sure of it."
Riley dropped her hand from his arm, noting the more serious, protective shift in his tone. She seemed exasperated they were back to this again.
"Well, I don't care if he knows who I am," she said heatedly. "He should be afraid of me."
He raised a brow at her, smirking; "Cocky."
"I learnt from the best," she said, with a teasing hint, he grinned back at her.
"Anyway, there's no evidence he tried to murder us," she said. "Five counts of RICO put Fisk in prison but not for murder. The 15 knew he killed many cops, but no one else believes us, or perhaps in the end no one cares how they died," she said morosely. "And it keeps happening and eventually the names just fade, in memory... even on the plaque we've honored them on. But everyone remembers him," she said, resentfully.
Matt imagined Fisk's figure standing tall over a podium as he wore a suit, the snap of photographer's cameras capturing him, dozens of reporters hooked onto his every word.
"Alfie and I made a pact to not go chasing ghosts. But part of me wants to look him in the eye and make him admit that he killed Amy," said Riley, and Matt felt that fear strike him like lightening once more.
"Don't. He'll just do to you what he did to me," Matt warned. "And you've made yourself known to him."
"Good," she said, brazenly. "Because the whole city is going to come for him next." Riley gave him a challenging look; "what does it matter if he knows who I am?"
"He'll find someway to use you against me."
He said it, matter-of-factly and meant it. She paused for a second, brushing a strand of hair from her face, but nothing could hide the blush creeping up her neck from him. She had not expected him to say that, he couldn't believe he said it out loud either.
"Come on—"
"I can't take the chance of you being caught in the cross hairs."
She huffed out in exasperation and looked out over the street at a quartet of school kids. They were eating ice cream, texting and playing jump rope, completely oblivious to the lawyer and cop on the church stairs expertly avoiding discussion of matters of the heart and the future of their city from being tormented again by Wilson Fisk.
"I'm a nobody to him, okay?" She said, showing her empty palms to the sky. "We can't control what he may or may not do from his prison cell, his plan may expand over years. We just have to focus on what's happening outside, and not lose faith in ourselves. I want revenge, just like you. But I've done this before. I've blamed Fisk for everything that went shit in my life, and nothing good came out of that." She sighed. "If it helps ease your mind; I can watch out for Karen and Foggy for you."
He was struck by her kindness; "You would do that?"
"Yeah I would," she shrugged it off like it wasn't a big deal. It may have been just another routine protection detail to her, but it mattered to Matt.
Never in his entire life had someone offered to look after his friends, his family, and the people he cared about. He was usually overwhelmed with protecting the entire world and their mothers he never believed anyone would look after him. He spent the majority of his life worried about people leaving, and heartbroken when they did, he kept himself closed off to prevent more people in, and prevent the hurt when they inevitably left him.
"If Fisk really is after them. He wouldn't attempt bodily harm, he would go after their family, their assets, their careers, their businesses, it sounds fucking scary, but it's how he'd do it."
"You don't have to do that for me just because I saved Alfie," Matt replied, staunchly believing this was something she felt obliged to do because of what he did for Alfonso. That would make more sense.
She rolled her eyes; "You think I'm only here talking to you just because you saved Alfie? Your self esteem can't be that low," she said, elbowing him playfully in the ribs.
That coaxed a smile from him; "seems like you care about me a little bit."
"Just this much." She raised her hand and made a teeny-tiny gesture with her thumb and forefinger, scrunching her face up. She rested her elbows on her knees, chuckling at herself.
In that moment he thought about what would happen if to leaned forward and kissed her. If he would taste the coffee she had that morning and the notes of apple and cinnamon still lingering in her mouth too.
"What is it?" She asked, trying figure out what he was thinking about after he had been quiet for a while.
"Nothing—it's nothing, I'm sorry," he said abruptly, clearing his throat. "I kind of just want to be alone right now."
"Oh," she said, caught off guard after they had been bantering back and forth harmlessly.
"Thanks for checking on me. I came to the church to clear my head."
"Come with me, somewhere less depressing," she suggested, beckoning him to leave the church with her.
"I'd love to, but I'll be fine, I'm sure the precinct is chaos without you there." Matt bit his lip. You should go with her, or ask her to stay. But he was physically incapable of it.
"Are you sure?"
"I am. I just want to be alone for a while."
No you don't.
"Okay," she agreed reluctantly. Her eyes fell, he'd hurt her, even though she was respecting his request. She breathed out air through her nostrils and slapped the stone stairs before standing up, walk down two steps and turned around to him. "Please stop feeling guilty about everything."
He gave a glum half smile; "I'll try."
"And I meant it by the way; if Foggy or Karen need someone, tell them they have me."
Riley
After using the leads given to them by Alfie, Riley was able to organize a raid. She asked for Frank Sinjon to join her but the news came that he had been on a paid leave for the past month or so to care for his sick mother. It meant she step up and lead them.
This soon after a tragedy to the precinct, Michaels not even a month in the grave, there was some dread on whether it was wise to be pissing off the Italians after they successfully murdered a cop and landed two more in the hospital. Riley had her qualms like everyone else until the visit to Alfie a couple of days ago. Seeing him in a spasm of pain on the floor, changed her mind, and Matt's visit to Fisk only reinforced it.
She didn't want to believe that he didn't need her, perhaps he was using his tactic of pushing her away, to keep her 'safe.' But whatever Fisk was planning she was ready for it. Riley knew when Matt's mind was set. If he wanted to process things alone, she had to respect that. Was she a bad friend for not checking on him since then? Besides just being his friend, it would've been nice to consult him on the raid that was happening tonight, but if he needed space, she would grant him that.
As they readied themselves, Detective Malek shut the locker door beside her.
"Do you think there's enough of us?" She quizzed, the same question, for the billionth time. It was starting to get on Riley's nerves. "Sergeant said he wasn't joining us, yet he never told us beforehand. Isn't it important for him to be there?"
It had been a couple of weeks since Darren Michaels' funeral; it was guaranteed that everyone would still be a bit rattled. Nora was more obvious than anyone else, since she was his partner before she got promoted ahead of him. It was rumored they were together (in fact having an affair, since Michael's was married with kids) before the Fisk incident but spilt up thereafter.
Riley had done this many times before, but of course it would be nice to have their sergeant there to cushion them and direct them but they weren't rookies for Christ's sake.
"I think we need another team there too," suggested Nora.
"We will call for back-up if we need it," she told her, stonily. "Anyway, Fitz has a slipped disc, but he insisted we proceed without him. So you constantly harrowing me with your worries isn't going to help us," she snapped.
Nora shied away from her straightaway. You can be such a dick; she had every right to be concerned. She had never been amazing at comforting people that everything would be okay, but she wasn't a fortuneteller either. She preferred to procrastinate on emotions, discussing her worries, fears, and pretend they didn't exist until it haunted her later. Sounds like what Matt does, so maybe you're more alike than you know.
"Look, I don't want to be a hard ass, I really don't," it was a lame excuse. "I hate being that guy. But I have to be."
"I get it," said Nora, pursing her lips. "And yes, I've been uneasy, and you're doing your best. You and I are the only females on this task force, and I do admire and appreciate what you do. But when we make those arrests and press releases who knows what chain reaction we're going to set off," Nora forewarned. "I don't want a mafia warning in the mail, and neither do you."
"I know what could happen," said Riley, determined. She could be making everyone she knew a target. At first, she wanted to keep it to herself, maybe engage Matt. But Alfie was right, she had to believe in what they were could accomplish as a team, as the NYPD. Sergeant Fitzgerald was someone she considered a mentor, and she went to him with the intel Alfie handed to her. He took a bit of convincing but he agreed they had to act.
Riley took the bulletproof vest from inside her locker and shouldered it on. "Please, just do your job."
She left the locker room to finish getting ready.
"Knight. Are we all set?" Asked Fitz. He was sat down on a computer chair in front of the monitor screens as she got the keys for the police cars.
She knew she could tell him the truth; "Sir, can I speak freely?"
"You're lucky I'm taking these or else I wouldn't be able to bear more 'honest' opinions tonight," he grumbled. He glanced down at his pain medication, despising the prospect of being a slave to a couple of white pills. He popped one in his mouth and washed it down with some coffee. His doctor prescribed them for his slipped disc and he was aggrieved to have to take them and attend physiotherapy for the next few weeks.
"Detective Malek has her doubts that we may be rushing into this."
"As she expressed to me about 10 seconds before you did," he added. "Do you agree with her?"
"Part of me does," she admitted, letting her guard down in front of her boss. What if her head was not in the right place? It's happened before. When she was overcome with vengeance and tried to kill Sweeney. And I would have succeeded if Matt had not stopped me. "Honestly, all I can think about is getting my hands on Xavier, and I don't think that's for good for morale. I'm not motivating, I'm not inspiring, and I've snapped at everyone. Maybe I'm not right to be leading this," she blurted it all out.
"Croftsky didn't think so either," he said. That son of a bitch will always have a problem with me won't he? "He wanted to be the one to take the lead on this, he gave a compelling argument, but I chose you. A fraction of it is because Croftsky has always had his head up his ass. But mostly it's because I know you have the potential to lead others, in a way he can't, in a way none of them can. I nominated you to be Captain because I could see it. But you don't see it in yourself. I hoped you would."
Fitzgerald had been disappointed when she turned down the position in Staten Island but they could all agree she was more important here. It was nice to hear that she wasn't completely incompetent at what she did.
Riley smiled; "I appreciate that, Sir."
"Sometimes when we are looked too for guidance, we have no choice but to lift everyone else up, even when we can't do that for ourselves, even when we are afraid. I am afraid too," said Fitzgerald. It was strange hearing someone older and a more experienced cop say that. It didn't show on his lined face, or the crow's feet by his eyes that he could be afraid. It was rare that anyone admitted fear.
"But tonight could be the only chance you get in finding the man who killed Michaels and tried to kill Mahoney and Valentine," he told her steadfastly. "They are counting on you, and so am I. They may question you, but they do trust you."
She could smell the river as they passed the dockyard. Riley parked the non-descript police car two blocks from their mark point. The others on the task force would swarm in from North East and West. After covering the last 500 meters on foot, she crouched along a row of cars.
"Leo. Status report," she commanded quietly into her comm.
"The radius is clear of patrol cars, boss," he told her. Nora and Riley shared a concerned look. It shouldn't be; why did they evacuate their men from the premises?
Then the side window of the car they hid behind shattered with gunfire.
Riley dragged Nora by collar of vest and they flattened on the cement.
"Shots fired, I repeat. Shots fired," she shouted into the comm. "Malek and I have cover, but the street is open, we're stuck here." She slid her back along the body of the car to see where the shot came from; it was North East of her. The top of the mirror was taken off. The building it may have come from was not that tall either, just five stories.
And then from much closer and on her side of the road— which was impossible because there was supposed to be no officers stationed there—shots blasted through the air from the building adjacent to them, and the two snipers battled it out. "Did anyone move from their post?" She asked, furiously.
"Negative."
"Negative."
Whatever this was, whoever was shooting on their behalf—or not; Riley knew they needed more protection than this. She pointed her fingers down to the building where the fresh round of gunfire was coming from.
"Who's shooting?" Leo demanded, and she could hear gunfire over the comm from where he was stationed.
"None of us!"
"There's someone else is here, but he's not aiming at us," Riley squinted at the adjacent building and she could see the tiny fireworks coming from the rifle from a blackened window.
"It's him isn't it?" Nora shouted over the clamor. "The Punisher."
"Xavier. South west of you, two blocks. I have eyes," Croftsky reported. Riley nearly shot up straight but had to keep low to the ground as she turned to Nora;
"Split up. Go down that alley. I'll go around and cut him off before he hits the main road!" Riley bolted off, determined to get him, you are not getting out this time. She wound between slim pathways and collided with someone's laundry hanging to dry but continued her pursuit, she saw the back of his head and that made her run faster. There was no injury, or bruise, or tiredness anchoring her down, she was going to get him.
He yanked at a couple of trashcans to slow her down but she leapt over them, she was close—
A gunshot exploded in the crisp night air.
He dropped to the gravel twenty feet from her.
"No. NO!"
Riley's knees slapped to the ground by his torso, he was writhing in pain with a shot to his thigh and abdomen. She looked at his beady black eyes again, now flooded with agony. She decided the bullet to the gut would be bleeding faster and sealed her palms over that wound. She spun her head left and right to figure out where the Punisher was, a vicious glare aimed at the tall facades of the buildings surrounding her. You will not get away with this; he was not yours to take justice from.
She calculated that he had to be somewhere behind them. Nora- after making the round to cut Xavier off- was nearing them, she was yelling at her but Riley only shouted orders back;
"Keep him alive!" She bounded after her newest quarry. She sprinted through the nearest garbage door exit and up once more, she needed to get to the fifth floor. As she reached the third, her knees were burning from the effort. She heard footsteps rush behind her and she followed them. The floor was under construction, their feet swept up dust clouds. The Punisher scurried from one door awning to the next, her bullets missing him.
She chased him down a hallway; he was a good thirty feet from her when he fled into a room on the right. She was upon it, but before she could run inside to follow; the brick wall above her head blasted into pieces.
Riley dived down onto her belly behind a crate near the entrance, covering herself with her arms. She peeked at the wall where she had been standing a millisecond ago; there was a hole through the brick. Another shot fired and another hole appeared a foot beneath the first one, slightly wider. The weapon he had was powerful if it could pound a hold that large through solid wall at this short distance, it would likely have taken half her skull with it in one blow if she had been slower to duck for cover.
If he thought that was going to deter her so he could get a head start in escaping, he was sorely mistaken. She peeked around the corner of the crate enough to see him still standing there with the giant rifle aimed. He didn't run. For the first time she finally laid eyes on the enigma.
The Punisher wasn't very tall, he had cropped black hair, and he looked a bit Italian. Riley tried to memorize his features. She could read the blood thirst and rage, a torrid current beneath the surface of his eyes, lit by the moonlight slanting in from the uncovered windows.
Raging monster or not, he had been successful thus far in evading them and killing everyone he came across. There was tactic to his murders. He knows what he's doing. And he knows what we're doing too.
"You're fast, I'll give you that. But that crate is not going to do shit in terms of protecting you," he called out, as she remained crouching. "Toss your gun across the floor and come out. I need to make sure you won't follow me and shoot me in the back."
She gulped, keeping low, she peeped from the corner, he had his rifle lowered but she wasn't going to expose herself without being certain.
"How do I know you won't shoot me anyway?" She shouted out.
"Move. Or I'll take another shot and this time I won't miss on purpose."
Riley rested her gun on the cement floor and pushed it aside first, and then she slowly emerged from her hiding spot. Her gun skidded six feet from her. She could still dive down and grab it if she needed, but the odds weren't in her favor.
But then he was upon her, his rifle aimed; he closed the distance until he was just four feet from her;
"Hands up, detective, knees on the ground," he kicked her gun further from her reach, and snorted mockingly; "you think you're a smartass? Don't think I couldn't figure out what you were planning on doing."
With a spiteful scowl, she got down to her knees, arms above her head, staring down the barrel of his rifle that could rip her head from her shoulders.
"Do you know who I am?" Riley asked him.
"Been listening," he replied with a shrug.
"Haven't you done enough?"
He shook his head slowly; "not even close." And he truly believed that, this crusade he was on. In many ways, it was Matt and Daredevil all over again. Thank God, in many ways he is not him.
"You've been helping me, haven't you?" She said; "months ago you told me where to find Daria, and you saved that little girl from her father."
"I don't want to hurt you," he said ignoring her; "now, face on the ground."
Riley wasn't a fan of being told what to do, especially when the tables were being turned on her. But he wasn't trying to shut her up, at least not with brute force, he was lending an ear to what she had to say, until he actually shoots me in order to shut me up. But there was definitely an unprecedented rapport there. Was it a cop versus vigilante thing? Opposite ends of the law both out for the greater good? (Albeit on the opposite ends of the spectrum) Or was Riley just getting better at talking to vigilantes?
"Why did you shoot Xavier? We needed him."
His sharp laugh cut through the air of the empty room; "are you serious? You should be thanking me for it after what I've done for you, Detective." The Punisher was righteous and dangerous but there was unmistakably something haunting him. He wasn't helping his case at that moment, however.
"You think I'm going to thank you for trying to kill the only lead we have?" She said icily, narrowing her gaze at him. "You think we'd pardon you, and excuse you?" She was tempting him with the rifle, she knew it, and he pressed his lips together, eye parallel with the weapon. "Why are you trying to be another vigilante?" She asked, with a withering look; "What's your reason?"
"There's a gun three times the size of yours pointed at your head." He moved an inch closer and Riley's resolve and bravery waned. She leaned backwards, feeling her heart thump madly.
"Shut up and put your head on the ground." Riley bit her tongue obeying him; she folded her palms over the back of her neck and bent her head down.
He took a few steps back, leaving her with a final warning. "If you follow. I'll make sure you regret it."
She stayed down until she no longer heard his footsteps, until they faded into nothingness, until she only heard the wind billowing through the large windows and the slapping of the construction tarp. She rolled onto her back; catching her breath, sweat dripping into her eyes.
Riley got down to the road a couple of minutes later, keeping her encounter with the Punisher to herself for the time being.
"Is he alive?" She asked Nora, whom she found beside a row of police cars and emergency vans.
"Yeah. He's just left for Metro General," she replied, monotone. Riley caught a hint that in an alternate universe, Nora would have preferred that he died on the street.
"Post a patrol. He's not going to be safe." There was no way in hell the Punisher was going to let him stay alive with that 'take no prisoner's' attitude.
"Riley you need to come inside the compound," Leo reported over the comm.
At the back of an old Italian restaurant, around a dozen mafiosos and mafia lieutenants had gathered...
And died.
"Fuck."
The scene was as bloody and red as the last attack the Punisher underwent on the Kitchen Irish.
"He was here way before any of us," said Leo, squatted beside a man who had a quarter of his head blown off like a watermelon, brains and blood pooling over the remains. That could have been me ten minutes ago. Croftsky called them over to where he stood by the walk-in fridge.
Riley stopped short; "Is that who I think it is?"
"Federico," Leo echoed for them, but he needed no identification. The young man, younger than Riley, who'd ascended to the empire his father left behind, had been shot four times. His pristine white suit bloomed big patches of red blood, yet there was not a single strand of gelled black hair out of place. The red rose that was in his handkerchief pocket had been taken out of it- likely before he shot- and smashed beside him until it's petals crumbled.
Croftsky snorted, ever the respectful gentleman, poking Federico's body with his foot. "Guess he's joining his father in hell a bit early." He covered his mouth so the others couldn't hear what he whispered to Riley, "Punisher did your job for you. You're gonna be a world of trouble tomorrow."
The Punisher's raspy voice rang in her ears;
"You should be thanking me after what I've done for you, Detective."
Hope you guys liked the Punisher's long awaited appearance into the story! He's not going to play too major of a role like he did in season 2 Daredevil, but it's definitely a fun exchange to write. I am so excited for you guys to read the next chapter!
Side note: I edited this on the app which freaking sucks so apologies if the format isn't what it's normally like.