Chapter 7 – I Can Explain

Matt

The morning after Fisk's escape, Matt turned on the television in his hotel room. The coverage of the escape was wall-to-wall. Daredevil's presence at the Fisks' apartment last night wasn't mentioned (thank God) but Matt Murdock's role in Fisk's release on bail was featured prominently. Shit. Foggy and Karen were going to be pissed. At least he didn't have to go to the office right away. There were things he had to take care of first.

After he checked out of the hotel, Matt's first stop was the post office in Hell's Kitchen, where he had his P. O. box. The documents he mailed last night were there. Breathing a sigh of relief, he removed the envelope from the box and shoved it into his duffel. Then he headed downtown, to the courthouse and the County Clerk's office, to file and record the documents he'd prepared, including the set of documents he hoped Gao didn't know about. It was early afternoon by the time he finished at the County Clerk's and went back uptown to Hell's Kitchen. He had one final stop to make before heading to the temporary office of Nelson & Murdock, above Nelson's Meats.

Finally, he couldn't put it off any longer. As he walked along the sidewalk, a block from the office, he heard voices, many of them, coming from in front of the building. They were chanting, "Lock Fisk Up!" and "Lock Murdock Up!" Shit. He had to get into the building without being spotted. He went around to the back of the building on the corner. When he was certain no one was watching, he climbed the fire escape. From there, he traveled across the roofs to the building that housed Nelson's Meats. As he descended the fire escape, he hoped, cravenly, that Foggy or Karen or both of them would be out of the office when he arrived. That was the only way he could put off having to face them. It wasn't as if he could sneak in unnoticed. But when he went into the building through the side entrance, he knew his time had run out: both of them were in the office. He gritted his teeth and started up the stairs.

Foggy

Foggy didn't look up when he heard the door open. He was busy preparing to argue a motion in one of the firm's few remaining cases. Then he heard Karen's gasp.

"Matt!" she exclaimed.

"Hey, Karen," he replied.

Foggy clenched his jaw and didn't say anything. Matt turned in his direction and said, "Hey, Fog."

Foggy couldn't speak. He was too busy keeping himself from smacking his law partner and (alleged) friend upside the head. Finally, he took a deep breath and said, "Seriously, Matt? You come waltzing in here as if nothing happened! Do you have any idea what you've done? To Karen? To this firm?"

"Yeah, I do," Matt replied quietly, standing very still and holding his cane in front of him. "And I'm sorry."

Foggy surged to his feet. "You're sorry? You got Wilson fucking Fisk out of jail! And all you can say is you're sorry?"

"I can explain – if you'll let me."

"Oh, I'm sure you can," Foggy told him sarcastically. "I'm dying to know how you think you're gonna talk your way out of this." He turned and stomped to the far side of the room. He needed to put some distance between himself and Matt.

"Just hear him out," Karen said.

Foggy gave her a questioning look. "You're not pissed off?"

"Oh, I am," she assured him. "But didn't you say we should reserve judgment until we have all the facts?"

Oh. Right. He did say that. He sighed resignedly and said, "All right. Let's hear it."

"Um, can we sit?" Matt asked, gesturing to one of the tables.

"Sure, why not?" Foggy asked. He and Karen took seats on one side of the table, across from Matt.

Matt sat quietly for a moment, as if he was thinking about what to say. Then he pushed his glasses up his nose and began. "The night before I, uh, left, I stopped a mugging. But it wasn't really a mugging. It was staged. The 'victim' – " Matt made air quotes. " – told me to go to a hotel in Chinatown and wait for a further message from someone I knew who wanted to see me again."

"And you went?" Foggy asked.

Before Matt could answer him, Karen spoke up. "You thought the message was from Elektra."

Matt nodded his head. "That was one possibility."

"But it wasn't her, was it?" Karen asked.

"No. It wasn't her."

Foggy's anger started to fade when he saw the expression on his friend's face. Matt could be a real asshole, but he was still grieving. "So who was it?" he asked.

"Madame Gao."

"Madame Gao?" Karen exclaimed. "As in the Hand, that Madame Gao?"

Matt nodded.

"But didn't you say she was there, with you and . . . and Elektra, under Midland Circle?"

"Yes. She was there, but she got out."

"How?" Foggy asked.

Matt shook his head. "I don't know. She didn't say, and I didn't ask."

"You could've told us, you know," Foggy said.

"No," Matt replied firmly. "I didn't know who I was dealing with, at first. And when I found out who it was, I didn't want you anywhere near them."

Of course he didn't. It was more of Matt's usual bullshit, pushing them away while telling himself – and them – that he was protecting them. Foggy looked at Karen, expecting she would be thinking the same thing. But she surprised him.

"You know, Foggy, I think Matt's got a point," she said. "Considering what Matt was doing, it's better that he tried to keep us – and the firm – out of it."

"Yeah, and look how well that worked out." Suddenly, Foggy's anger came roaring back. He couldn't stand it any longer, sitting there, looking across the table at Matt. He pushed back his chair and stood up, then walked over to the counter and leaned against it, clenching his fists. "So what did Gao want?" he asked.

Matt pressed his lips together, then licked them before answering. "She didn't exactly come out and tell me what she really wanted – I didn't figure that out until a couple of days ago. Basically, she told me that the Hand – she – needed to get control of some properties that Fisk owned near Midland Circle. She thought if I got him out on bail, I could convince him to sell the properties. He wouldn't know he was selling to her, of course. It was all handled using shell corporations and REITs, things like that."

Foggy frowned. Midland Circle, again. It always came back to Midland Circle. He wished he'd never heard that name.

"But why did she need those properties?" Karen asked. "I thought the Hand owned Midland Circle."

"They do," Matt said, "but the City and the State took over the site for the clean-up. And even when that's done, the property likely will be tied up in litigation for years. Gao couldn't wait that long."

"Wait for what?" Foggy asked.

"The 'substance.'" Matt made air quotes, then explained, "What they used to, uh, bring back . . . Elektra, and themselves. It's still there, under the rubble."

"But how does having the other properties help her get it?"

Karen answered him. "They could go underground, dig tunnels from the adjoining properties to Midland Circle."

Foggy remembered a conversation with Matt, months ago, about the tunnels under the City. "Or the tunnels are already there."

Matt nodded. "Yeah. I think that's how Gao got out, that night."

"And how you got out?"

"Maybe. I don't know."

"OK," Karen said. "So Gao wanted those properties, and she wanted you to get Fisk out of jail so you could persuade him to sell them. And, what, you just went along with it?"

"Basically, yeah. Until I could figure out what she was really doing, and how to stop her."

"What was that?"

"Gao let it slip, early on, that she viewed Fisk as a threat. Once Fisk signed over the properties, he would be expendable. So I asked her if she was going to kill Fisk. She denied it. She said he could still be useful. That's when I figured it out. I knew what her plan was."

"Oh, shit," Foggy muttered. "She was going to kill Fisk and bring him back, wasn't she?"

"Bingo."

"But how could she bring him back without that . . . substance?" Karen asked.

"She had a small supply," Matt explained. "Her people managed to get some out from below Midland Circle before the building collapsed."

"So she was going to kill Fisk and bring him back," Foggy summed up. "Zombie Fisk. Great."

"Right," Matt agreed. "And he would have been under her control."

"But he was under indictment," Karen pointed out. "How could he be useful if he was a fugitive?"

"I don't know," Matt admitted. "I never figured out that part. But I'm sure Gao had a plan. And we know Fisk is an expert at manipulating the system. She could use that."

"Damn," Foggy swore. Then a horrible thought crossed his mind. Dread knotted his stomach. "Please tell me that letting Fisk escape wasn't part of your plan."

Matt looked startled. "God, no! C'mon, Fog, you know me better than that."

Foggy shook his head. "I don't think that I do. Not anymore."

A hurt look replaced the startled expression on Matt's face. Seeing it, Foggy almost felt sorry for his friend. Then he remembered what the past two weeks had been like. "So what was your plan?"

"Basically, to do whatever it took to keep Gao from killing him."

"What happened?"

"I was a little busy, dealing with Gao's men," Matt replied dryly. "He slipped away. He saw his chance, and he took it." He frowned. "Fisk was one step ahead of me, again. I should've known . . . ."

"Yeah," Foggy thought, "you should have." It wasn't the first time Fisk had outmaneuvered them. He fell silent, remembering all the times they thought they had Fisk cornered, only to see him get away.

Karen finally broke the tense silence. "When you found out what Gao was really planning, why not go to the cops?" she asked.

"And tell them what?" Matt asked. "That a little old lady was going to have Wilson Fisk killed, then bring him back to life? You seriously think they would've believed me? Even Brett wouldn't have." He chuckled mirthlessly. "Hell, they probably would've locked me up – in a psych ward." He paused for a beat, then added, "When they stopped laughing, that is."

"What about Gao?" Foggy asked.

"When I got back to her place in Chinatown, she was gone. Probably going after Fisk." He gave a sharp, bitter laugh. "If we're lucky, maybe they'll take each other out."

"We can hope," Foggy said.

Karen frowned and shook her head. "They'll be back, sooner or later."

"Yeah," Matt said grimly, "you're probably right."

Foggy's phone chimed: the sound for a news alert. A few seconds later, Karen's phone did the same. He tapped on the notification and saw a group of people he didn't know, with a bank of microphones in front of them. The banner behind them read: " – Rebuilding and preserving Hell's Kitchen, better than ever!"

One of the men was saying, "With the donation of these properties, formerly owned by Wilson Fisk, along with a generous monetary donation from Midland Circle Investors, LLC, we can move forward with our plans for rebuilding the area around Midland Circle. Special thanks go to attorney Matthew Murdock, of the firm of Nelson & Murdock, who made these donations possible."

Foggy glanced up from his phone and saw the surprised expression on Karen's face, mirroring his own.

The news conference wrapped up after the speaker outlined the organization's plans for the sites. Karen found her voice first. "You did this, Matt?"

He grinned. "Told you I had a plan."

Foggy relaxed, if only a little. Maybe the situation was salvageable, after all. He left his place at the counter and dragged a chair up to the table to resume his seat opposite Matt.

"There's something I don't understand," Karen said. "Why did Gao think you would do what she wanted?"

"Yeah," Foggy said, "what was she offering?"

Matt went very still. He seemed to withdraw into himself, and the expression on his face was unreadable. When he finally spoke, it was a single word, barely audible: "Sight."

"Holy shit," Foggy muttered under his breath.

"Oh, my God, Matt," Karen whispered at the same time.

Foggy stared at his friend in shock. In all the years he'd known him, Matt had never talked about getting his sight back. He couldn't imagine how Matt must have felt.

"Could she really have done it?" Karen asked.

Matt nodded. "Yeah, I think so. But it was never gonna happen."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I was never gonna do what she wanted. If she used the substance on me to give me my sight, she would've been able to control me, like the Hand controlled Elektra. She would've controlled Fisk, and me, and Daredevil. I couldn't let that happen." His jaw tightened. "I'd rather live and die as a blind man than live as that Matt Murdock. You need to understand that."

Foggy fell silent, his heart aching for his friend. Then it dawned on him: Gao had miscalculated – badly. She thought Matt wouldn't be able to resist her offer to restore his sight. She was wrong. He knew what was most important to Matt. It wasn't sight. "I do," he said quietly.

"So do I," Karen said. She started to get to her feet, then seemed to have second thoughts. Instead, she sank back into her chair and reached across the table, covering Matt's hand with hers. "I understand why you did what you did, really I do."

Matt placed his other hand on top of hers. "I had to stop her."

She squeezed his hand. "I know."

Foggy regarded them thoughtfully. Then he said, "I didn't expect to be saying this, but you did what you had to do. I get it."

"I didn't think I had a choice, Foggy," Matt said.

"We always have choices," Foggy declared. Matt started to respond, but Foggy talked over him. "But, yeah, in this case, the other options probably were worse."

"They were," Matt said quietly.

Foggy nodded. "Yeah, I'll take Fisk on the run over Zombie Fisk any day. But now we've got a real shit show to clean up. The firm has taken some big hits while you were away. And Brett's gonna show up, sooner or later, wanting some answers."

"I'm sorry," Matt whispered. "I know, I have to leave – "

"No way," Foggy interrupted him. "You're not getting off that easy. You're gonna stick around and help clean up your mess. Isn't that what the church calls penance?"

Matt gave a pained half-smile.

"Besides," Foggy continued, "that deal you pulled off with the properties and the donation to Rebuild Hell's Kitchen will go a long way toward restoring our good name."

"We'll get through this, guys," Karen said. "We've seen worse, you know." She went behind the counter and came back with a bottle of Jameson's and three glasses. She poured two fingers into one glass and pushed it across the table to Matt, then did the same for herself and Foggy. She raised her glass. "Nelson, Murdock, and Page," she said.

Foggy caught Karen's eye and mouthed a question: "Seriously?" The thin line of her lips and the tiny wave of her hand told him she wasn't ready to forgive Matt, but she wasn't going to give up on him, either. He shrugged and raised his glass. "Nelson, Murdock, and Page."

Matt echoed him. "Nelson, Murdock, and Page." They clicked their glasses and drank.

Foggy joined in the toast, but he still had doubts. He kept them to himself. The firm could recover from this – probably. But what about the next time? A "next time" was inevitable. Matt would go off on his own, shutting him and Karen out, for some totally bonkers reason that made sense only to Matt. Then, after turning their lives upside down, he'd come back, sometimes contrite, sometimes unapologetic. Rinse and repeat. Foggy sighed. Was this really his life –a murderous mob boss, an ancient criminal cult, dead people brought back to life, a crazy vigilante for a best friend? Maybe Karen was right; Nelson, Murdock, and Page was never going to work. He leaned back and finished off his whiskey. Who was he kidding? He made his choice months ago. He wasn't going to abandon Matt. "Suck it up, Nelson," he told himself. He picked up the bottle and poured shots all around. Then he raised his glass. "To moving forward, together."

Karen and Matt raised their glasses. "Together."