tic tic tic tic tic

The quiet tapping of a cane filled echoed off the narrow metal walls in Seagate Prison. Declining to be led by the arm, Matt Murdock trailed behind a security guard, headed for the visiting room at the far end of the hall.

It was hardly a social call, but Matt was happy to be doing it. Just to ease his conscience a little. After all, what kind of Catholic would he be without a little extra guilt?

"I'll be right here when you're finished, counselor," said the guard, tipping his hat and then fixing it awkwardly upon remembering that Matt wouldn't see it.

"Thank you for the accommodation. I'll try not to take up too much of your time." Matt flashed a handsome smile before stepping inside.

The door shut behind him, and he took a seat at the table in the visitation room without missing a beat, expertly folding his cane with one hand and laying down a folder on the table with the other.

"Mr. Lucas? Or… maybe you'd prefer Mr. Cage?" Matt stuck his hand out a little off-center from the table with a smile.

The man on the other side of the table hesitated for a moment before reaching out his hands (both handcuffed and chained to the table) to shake it.

"I go by Luke," he replied gruffly.

"Mr. Cage, then." Setting his folded-up cane by the leg of the table, Matt took a seat, folding his hands on the desk and smiling. "My name is Matthew Murdock. I'm an attorney. I was directed to you by a mutual friend of ours. Claire Temple?"

Luke half-nodded, pulling his hands back to rest on the surface of the table. "She told me about you. How do you know Claire?"

"I- well, heh, I was familiar with her work back at Metro General." Matt gave a self-deprecating laugh, tilting his head down toward the table. "Me and my partner, back before I became a solo practitioner… we developed something of a reputation for being… well, 'ambulance chasers'. So Claire and I became pretty well acquainted. I definitely owe her a favor."

"Must be some favor, to get you to come all the way from New York to take a client pro-bono."

"Call it a few favors." Matt straightened himself out, though still smiling lightheartedly. "You should be glad to have her looking out for you, Mr. Cage. Apparently your freedom is very important to her."

Frowning grimly, Luke leaned back, settling into his chair. Taking his silence as a hint, Matt smiled and opened the folder on the table, running his hands over the braille.

"As I understand, Mr. Cage," Matt said slowly, "those handcuffs they've got you in can't do much to hold you here, isn't that right?"

"It doesn't matter. I'm not running."

"Well, I'm glad you have that attitude. Good behavior is going to make things easier on you. But I'm sure you understand that." Matt pushed the folder forward and cupped his hands on the table, head tilted slightly downward. "I've heard plenty about you, even aside from Miss Temple. You made headlines in New York more than once."

"Well, I've heard about you, too. Claire told me you're one of those lawyers from Hell's Kitchen everyone was talking about. You took down Wilson Fisk." Luke spoke slowly and surely, not changing his expression much. "That's a good thing you did. I can't think of many lawyers that would put their hides on the line like that just to help people."

Matt nodded slightly, smile faltering a little. "Hm. Then if I can ask, Mr. Cage, what is it about me that you still don't seem to be comfortable with?"

Luke narrowed his eyes at that- he hadn't been expecting to be called out so directly. But there was nothing to be gained from being euphemistic, and in a way, Luke respected his straightforwardness.

"You defended Frank Castle," he replied flatly. "Serial killer."

"I've defended a lot of clients. I am concerned with making sure people are treated fairly by the law regardless of their individual circumstances, and if you followed the trial, I'm sure you realize that Mr. Castle was fraught with-"

"Is that what you think I am? Just some mentally ill vigilante? Some kind of legal charity case?"

Matt froze for a moment- it was a fair question, though not one he had given much thought to. It wasn't exactly the first time a client had confronted him about his more unpopular clientele.

"…Without getting into semantics, Mr. Cage, you're not in prison for being a vigilante."

"Doesn't answer my question," Luke countered sharply.

Matt laughed to himself at Luke's boldness. There was not much room to beat around the bush here. "Claire told me that you are a good person at heart. That you help people who can't help themselves, because you feel like it's your responsibility. That's a feeling I can sympathize with." He clasped his hands together again. "If she thinks you are worth helping, that's good enough for me. I trust you are of good conscience."

He smiled in anticipation, and Luke let him sweat for a minute before answering.

"…Wow, Claire's really in your head, huh?"

Matt shrugged. "She's insightful."

"No kidding."

Luke let out a chuckle as Matt awkwardly collected himself, rearranging the files in the folder in front of him.

"I want to be upfront with you, Mr. Cage. I wouldn't have taken the bus ride down here if I didn't have something concrete to work with." Matt tapped on his folder with two fingers. "I was approached by a friend of yours named Bobby Fish while I was putting together your file. He thinks he has enough to put together a case for your release. Can you tell me anything about that?"

"Sure. He's right."

"I'm glad to hear that…" Matt hesitated for a half-second. "But the problem I'm having is how to account for your disappearance. You were a fugitive from the law for some time. Carl Lucas disappeared, and then one day Luke Cage just appeared to take his place. Innocent or not, you still escaped from prison, and I need to be able to account for that time."

"What's there to account for?"

"More than you might expect," said Matt briskly, running a hand over his notes. "You made yourself known publicly in Harlem. Before that, there are no records that even indicate where you were in New York to begin with. Police reports are practically the only information I have to go on."

Luke watched the swift-talking lawyer with suspicion, suddenly responding more slowly and cautiously than before. "Then what do you need to know?"

"Well…" Matt continued, "…you were employed some time ago as a dishwasher for Cornell Stokes, right?"

"For a few months. When I came to Harlem."

"Right, when you first arrived in Harlem. The thing is, before you showed up, there aren't any outstanding records of where you were or what you were up to. For all intents and purposes, you were a ghost."

"I was just trying to keep my head down."

"Then help me fill in the blanks, Mr. Cage, so the judge won't have to just take my word for it."

Matt straightened his glasses and turned his head straight up, now face-to-face with Luke.

Luke just grimaced. As much as he wanted bygones to just be bygones, this guy was clearly not going to stop pushing him. "I owned a bar."

"Where?" replied Matt with a single, brisk nod.

"Hell's Kitchen, like you're from. Named it after myself- Luke's. Maybe you stopped by."

"We usually drank at Josie's."

"Josie's? Tsch. Now there's no way we can work together."

They both snickered at the joke, even despite the relative tension.

After a moment to collect his thoughts, Matt continued, sifting through his notes again. "So you owned your own business. That sounds a lot more lucrative than dishwashing. What happened to the bar?"

"It went up in flames. I couldn't run it under my name, so when it was destroyed, I got no insurance for it. It's as simple as that."

"It burned down? What, in an accident?"

"It's a long story."

"I have plenty of time."

Luke steeled himself. "Look, there are parts of my past I am trying to move on from. That bar was my lifeblood. When I lost it, well… I had nothing left. Going back to Harlem was a fresh start for me. I don't want to turn over everything from my life before then."

"But you have to understand that wanting to keep your past a secret doesn't reflect well on someone who wants to prove their innocence."

"And that means you don't trust me either, right?" Luke spoke harshly, almost accusatory. "If you can trust Claire that I'm 'of good conscience', maybe you should try taking me at my word."

There was a brief moment of silence as Luke stared Matt down, the two of them at an awkward impasse.

Matt knew better than to drop his suspicions when pushed, but at the same time… maybe Luke had a point. After all, sometimes it's better to hear the truth straight from the horse's mouth.

"You're familiar with attorney-client privilege, correct, Mr. Cage?" asked Matt after a beat.

Luke rolled his eyes. "What are you getting at?"

"I understand your concerns. And I respect your desire to move forward with your life." Matt drummed his fingers on the table, frowning lightly. "But if we are going to work together successfully, I need you to be completely open with me. That's how we establish trust. And right now, that means you can tell me right here and now. For the crime you're imprisoned for right now." Matt hesitated again. "…Are you innocent?"

Luke closed his eyes and took a breath.

"Yes."

Leaning his head ever-so-slightly in, Matt focused himself, filtering out all the other noise in the room- the jingling chains on the handcuffs, the buzzing neon lights, the tapping of the guard's foot outside…

thump

thump

thump

A calm heartbeat. Rhythmic and constant.

Honest.

That was all Matt needed to hear.

"Okay."

"Okay what?"

"Okay. I believe you, Mr. Cage."

Luke studied Matt's face closely for a few moments. "Bobby Fish can prove it."

"Even if he can, you still have a sentence to serve for escaping in the first place." Matt smiled slightly, tucking his papers neatly into their folder. "The good news is, if we can prove your innocence, I can probably get a judge to look the other way if there's enough public outcry. As far as Harlem is concerned, you're already practically a celebrity, so that's probably something we can count on."

"Then what does that mean I should do?"

"If you want my professional opinion? Just don't stop being Luke Cage." Matt opened his hands with a slight shrug, doing his best as always to look charming. "You can count on me to take care of the rest."

Luke smirked at that. "Then it sounds like we're in business, Mr. Murdock."