It's actually a Christmas Miracle.
Leslie is the first to notice his arrival, sitting up straighter and alerting the others as well. Clint drops his arms and Frank snorts a laugh.
"Good job in controlling your dog, Arrow guy," Frank teases. "Red's-"
"Already aware of the situation," Matt finishes tiredly. "He was up when I came down the first time. I've given up. Clint, you owe me a new bed set since those are ruined by dog smell."
"What!?" Clint exclaims, loud enough to make his point but quiet enough not to scare Leslie. "How come you can't just wash them?"
"Dog is the one smell I can't do anything about," Matt says. "No matter what I've tried. Trust me. New sheets."
"Aw, Lucky."
Lucky, still in place beside Leslie in bed, wags his tail happily.
Leslie scoots closer to the edge of the bed and all three men jump to her aid, causing her to freeze nervously and cringe. "I just. . ." She clears her throat. "Bathroom?"
No one moves at first, everyone's attention on Leslie as if she'd break at the slightest unassisted movement. Then, Frank sits down and fakes relaxed. "Let her go," he says casually. "She can get to the bathroom on her own."
If Matt were to listen to anyone's childcare advice, it would definitely be Frank's. Yes Leslie is technically not a child and yes Frank is very violent, but he is the only one amongst them who has any childcare experience in the room. Besides, he's also the one with experience in PTSD and rehabilitation, so his advice is infallible in Matt's eyes.
Matt nods in agreement and takes a few steps into the kitchen. "Alright," he says. "She'll be fine."
Clint turns slightly and looks at him over his shoulder, then shrugs and steps away. "Alright," he agrees. "Sorry for swarming."
Leslie shakes her head and slips out of bed, allowing Matt a wave of relief to wash over Matt when Lucky jumps down to follow her. "It's fine," she says. "Excuse me."
The trio let her pass by unimpeded and release a collective breath of relief when the door closes. "Kids are stressful," Clint huffs, allowing himself to crouch down in front of the bed. "I don't see how you two do it."
Frank smiles and shakes his head. "It's worth the stress," he says, a hint of sadness swirling under the calmness of his words. "I wouldn't have traded it for the world."
The last few words choke slightly in Frank's throat, so he clears it and swipes a quick hand under his eye. No one knows how to react to the sudden heaviness in the words, but Matt is surprised when Clint rises back to a stand and moves toward the kitchen, gently smacking Frank's shoulder sympathetically on his way over. "I want a drink," he announces. "You?"
Frank nods. "Yeah," he says, voice a bit more stable than it was before. "Beer if he has any."
Matt snorts and rests his hands on the counter. "I'm glad you two are so comfortable here," he says, "but remember, neither of you actually live here."
"Neither does Leslie," Frank reminds, always the one to point out the obvious. "She seems pretty comfy."
Matt can't even get mad at the statement because it's true. He seems to forget that Leslie doesn't live with him and she's going to have to leave eventually. When is eventually going to be though?
Claire is on the phone when she rounds the corner onto Matt's block, fussing at a coworker about trying to increase her already outrageous work hours. Matt smiles and tilts his head in the direction of the bathroom as the toilet flushes. "Claire's here," he announces. "Don't be mean and don't get pissy if she tells you to do something."
Clint removes three beers from the fridge and turns around. "She's a nurse, right?"
"Yeah, I'm sure I said that," Matt responds as he grabs a bottle from Clint.
"You think she can look me over?" he asks, walking over and passing the last bottle to Frank. "I think my finger might be broken."
"When did you break your finger?" Frank asks as he accepts his beer.
"About a week ago."
"I'm still wondering how you got to be an Avenger."
The bathroom door opens and Clint turns his head in that direction as Leslie steps out. "I do too sometimes," he admits. "But hey, here we are."
Leslie stumbles a bit on her way out, not really used to moving the inflatable cast, and catches the wall for support. By the time she regains her footing and straightens up, all three men are standing near the edge of the hallway with ready arms extended. Leslie jerks back slightly in surprise, and then harder when someone knocks on the front door beside her. She does go down this time, causing Frank and Clint to move to her side as Matt goes to the door.
The door is open as Clint and Frank fuss over Leslie, prompting Matt to give a quick rundown of the situation to Claire. Claire shoves her bag in his hand and slips by him just as Lucky reaches the scene. "I think I'm more surprised that she actually hit the ground," she says, pushing through Clint and Frank to get to Leslie. "You've been super careful with her up until now. How'd she fall?"
Clint, taking the hint that he's not needed there, nudges Frank backwards to give Clare some space. "She got scared," he says, ignoring heat of the look Frank sends him. "By you actually."
"Oh," Claire says distractedly through her examination. "I'm sorry."
Leslie shakes her head slightly. "It's fine," she says quietly.
Claire freezes and Matt smiles. It doesn't take more than a second for Claire to recover, mostly because Frank asks what the problem is, and then she's helping Leslie up. "Nothing," she says as she leads Leslie to the couch, Clint, Frank, and Lucky lingering not too far behind. "I'm going to check Leslie out, then I'll look at Frank's leg."
Clint holds up a finger. "Can you look at my finger while you're at it?" he asks. "It might be broken."
Leslie is set on the couch and Claire nods, waving Matt over to get her bag back. "When did it happen?"
"Bout a week ago."
Claire accepts her bag when Matt brings it with one hand, while continuing to undo Leslie's inflatable cast with the other. "And we're sure he's an Avenger?"
Frank barks out a laugh and grabs his beer bottle as he flops back on his seat. "I've been asking myself that since he got here, ma'am," he says, "and yet here we are."
Clint folds his arms over his chest and leans against the wall. "I'm standing right here," he reminds bitterly. "I do work."
Leslie turns her attention from where Claire works to Clint. "I appreciate your work," she says. "You saved a bunch of kids from a truck going to the docks a few months ago."
Clint motions in her direction and pushes up from the wall. "See! Someone realizes I'm important." He pauses. "Wait, that wasn't aired in the media. How did you know about that one?"
"I was in the car in front of the one you saved."
And just like that, the once peaceful air in the apartment becomes heavy and suffocating. That's just how Matt interprets it. He doesn't even want to know how Clint must feel. So he blocks out the thoughts and moves to the kitchen to take a drink from his beer. No one says anything for a moment. No one can even venture a guess as to what they could possibly say to alleviate the tension in the room.
Leslie shrinks into herself as Claire swipes disinfectant on the stitches underneath the cast. "I'm sorry," she whispers. "I didn't mean-"
"Don't be sorry," Clint interrupts, strolling forward and dropping down on the couch beside her. "If anything, I should apologize to you for leaving you in there." He lifts an arm and drapes it on the couch behind her. "I suck."
This time it's Claire who shakes her head as she works another line of stitches. "You did what you could," she reminds. "There's no one to blame here but the people who did this to her in the first place."
Clare always knows what to say, but it doesn't help ease anyone's tension. They know who did it. They know where they could be. However, Matt won't let anyone go after them because they'll kill everyone. They all have differing opinions on the matter of killing, but they all listen when Matt tells them no. At least, they are for now. A combination of the happening conversation plus him finally seeing an extent of what Leslie's been through may prove fatal for someone.
"Matt," Claire says, pulling Matt from his thoughts. "Can you get Leslie a glass of water? She's still a bit dehydrated."
"Yeah," Matt says, taking another swig of his beer before moving to the cabinet. He grabs a glass and fills it halfway with water, taking a few drinks from that then filling it again and moving to Leslie.
The glass is passed along and Clint makes a sound of disgust and takes the cup from Leslie's hand. "Don't give her something you drank out of," he says before he takes his own drink from the glass.. "That's nasty."
"You just drank out of the cup you took from her."
"I'm not the topic at hand right now."
Matt rolls his eyes, but does go and get Leslie a new cup. Once she's settled and sipping, Matt moves to the armchair not occupied by Frank and sighs when he realizes he forgot his own beer on the counter.
"Your leg is healing fine," Claire informs as she lifts the bottom of Leslie's shirt slightly. "At least, from what I can see without a proper x-ray." Matt hears the hidden meaning in her words. He needs to get her to a proper doctor. And judging by the tone, it needs to be soon. "You finish your water, I gotta talk to Matt."
There it is.
Claire stands and so does Matt, the former leading the way down the hall and out the front door to stand in the hallway. As soon as the door closes, Claire whirls on him. "I think Leslie has internal bleeding."
No sugar coating that one, though Matt wishes she could have just a little bit. The words hit him like a brick to the gut and he can't even react to it. If he did, he'd be a nervous wreck. Instead, he inhales slowly and folds his arms over his chest to keep his hands from shaking. Is this what it's like when someone tells a parent their kid has health problems?
"When we first got her," Claire goes on, "she had a small bruise on the left side of her ribs. When I looked her over just now, the bruise was the side of my hand. She's still pale and shaking and I'm pretty sure she threw up recently. Since it isn't growing rapidly, it may just be a small bleed. But internal bleeding is internal bleeding, and it's still bad."
Matt unfolds his arms and pinches the bridge of his nose to keep himself calm. How did he miss it? "Ok," he says slowly. "Ok, I'll tell her."
Claire shakes her head rapidly. "Just tell her we need to go to the doctor," she instructs. "If you tell her she has internal bleeding, she may have another panic attack. Did you get her that weighted blanket yet?"
"Not yet, no."
"Get on that. Anyway, get her ready. We need to get there soon. If it gets any worse, she could die."
Another brick to his gut. Maybe Leslie is his kid.
"Ok," he says. "Ok, I'll get her ready and we can go."
"Great," Claire says. "See if you can get Frank and Clint to come too. They could keep Leslie calm and we can get them checked out while we're there."
"I doubt Frank's going to come," Matt replies as he turns to open the door. "Clint might."
"And this is my boomerang arrow," Clint explains, carefully handing over the arrow to Leslie as she hands the one she already has over to Frank. "I designed this one because boomerang."
Frank snorts and hands the exploding arrow back to Clint. "That's the stupidest reason to make an arrow I've ever heard," he says, then nudges the arrow lower in Leslie's hold. "Don't hold that so close to your head."
Matt clears his throat as Claire moves back to the table. "Leslie needs to go to the hospital," he says, causing the remaining three to tense. "Routine stuff."
"That's a hunk of bullshit if I've heard it," Frank chimes, lifting the arrow from Leslie's hand and handing both back to Clint. "What's really going on?"
Matt hopes the look he shoots to Frank is meaningful enough to silence him, but unfortunately, Clint jumps in with him. "Yeah," he says, ignoring when Matt turns the look to him. "You didn't take her to the doctor at all since you picked her up. What's up now?"
Matt turns his head between the two, then jabs a thumb in the direction of the front door. "Outside. Now." His tone must be firmer than anticipated because Leslie tenses and the remaining three turn in his direction. "Sorry," he says quietly. "It's just not something I want to talk about in front of Leslie."
Clint shrugs and ruffles Leslie's hair as Frank and Matt did before him and pushes himself to his feet. "Sounds reasonable to me," he says. "Sometimes adults need to talk."
Frank releases a tired huff and takes the final drink from his beer. "I still think it's bullshit," he says as sets his empty bottle on the table. "But whatever." He turns to Leslie as he passes and points at her. "Hold down the fort," he instructs. "Don't hesitate to use the boomerang arrow if you have to."
Leslie laughs through her nose and waves them off, only Matt noticing the nervousness in her breathing and the slight tremble in her hand. He doesn't have time to wonder whether or not he should tell Leslie what's going on before he's out the door again explaining the situation to the two in front of him.
"Internal bleeding!" Frank shouts.
Correction: The two very dangerous, strangely protective people in front of him. How did he forget that?
"Internal bleeding is not something to play around with, Matt," Clint says. "Trust me, I've had it before."
Matt rolls his eyes. "I'm pretty sure we've all had internal bleeding before," he reminds. "Our lives suck."
Frank shakes his head. "We're not talking about us," he reminds bitterly. "We talking about how Leslie's been sitting around bleeding for God knows how long and hasn't said anything!"
Clint nods slowly. "Frank's right," he says. "That is pretty weird. Internal bleeding hurts like a bitch. How come she hasn't said anything about it."
Matt hates to think it, so saying it is probably going to suck. "She's probably so used to pain, she doesn't even feel it anymore." Yeah, it sucked.
Frank clenches a fist at his side and Clint runs a tired hand down his face. "We need to kill them, Red," Frank says. "We have to."
"We can't," Matt reminds.
"I'm starting to agree with the Punisher," Clint says. "These guys are terrible and shouldn't be allowed to run around like they want."
"We can't!" Matt restates firmly. "It's not justice." He pauses to inhale deeply and steady himself. "Look, we're not having this conversation again. I'm taking Leslie to the hospital. I'm sure Leslie will appreciate if you go, but if you can't-"
"I'm going," Clint interrupts. "We'll have to leave Lucky here though."
Matt's apartment already smells like dog now. He can't say no.
"I'm going too," Frank announces, surprising Matt as he folds his arms over his chest. "Those bastard Russians are probably looking for her. If they show up anywhere-"
Clint frowns and furrows his brow in confusion. "I'm pretty sure you can't bring guns into hospitals."
Frank smiles. "You can do anything if you don't get caught."
Matt rolls his eyes again and shakes his head. "We're not going to talk about the legalities of anything in front of the lawyer," he reminds. "But I am going to say that you better enter by yourself if you do bring anything in. We can't put Leslie through that when she's-"
"You don't have to hold the kid over me," Frank says. "I'm joking. I'm not going to traumatize her."
He and Matt exchange an understanding nod and Clint scratches the side of his face. "Are you done?" he asks. "Cause we need to go."
"I gotta get Leslie ready," Matt says, "and you have to walk Lucky. If he shits in my house, we're going to have a problem."
"No problems," Clint says, spinning on a heal and opening the door. "Got it. Come here, Lucky."
Frank turns his head in Matt's direction as he passes by to head inside. "I hope you're ready to move, kid," he calls. "I hate hospitals and you need a check-up. We're running as soon as you're done."
Matt can't help by smile at the unusual lightness in Frank's tone. He's never heard the softness from the killer before, so he's going to enjoy it while he can. "I doubt we're going to run out," Matt calls as he finally goes inside. "Running makes us look suspicious."
Yes, he finds himself thinking, because that's the most suspect thing about us. . .
So as I'm sure most of us are aware of, Daredevil is cancelled. I'm sad, but I'm going to keep working on this! Slowly but surely because depression and college and anxiety are hard! That plus managing multiple stories across multiple platforms is a bitch! However! I am determined to see this through to whatever end I deem fit for this story! Honestly, I could keep this going for a helluva long time since this is a recovery story and my poor Leslie is one of - if totally - my worse off characters. Healing (hehehehe) takes time and she has a lot of healing to do. I can do a lot with it. Plus just typical interactions between everyone and fight stuff (It's coming, trust me) means there's a lot I can do here.
Long story short, be ready.
Thanks for sticking through my shit update schedule! Make sure to keep following, favoriting, and commenting! I love you all!
