Constantine hadn't expected for Matthew to show up at their apartment any time soon. In fact, they weren't expecting him at all, if they were being honest. But, a week after their chance encounter, they found him standing outside the apartment door – one hand holding the duffle bag and the other offering coffee from Constantine's favourite shop.

"This is a pleasant surprise. Did you smell this in my apartment, too?" Constantine asked as they unlocked the apartment and held the door open. "Make yourself at home, Matt," they added while heading to the bedroom to drop off their work bag.

"I smelled it on your clothes. Back on the roof," he clarified as he walked in, tucking his white cane under his arm. There was no need to pretend here, a reprise Matthew thoroughly relished. What was even better, Constantine welcomed the use of his abilities. They should be freaked out or uncomfortable, but their thrilled acceptance of his abilities was a sensation Matthew wanted more of. Even now, Foggy and Karen were skittish when he showed his skills in any way. Being with someone that didn't display those reactions made him feel… normal. "I'm sorry for dropping in unannounced. Again. I didn't exactly have a better way to contact you, and I wanted to return your belongings."

"Ah, you're fine," Constantine assured, one hand waving at him and the other stifling a yawn. "I hope you didn't wait too long, though. I usually get home earlier, but there were a few casualties that came in at the last minute. Anyway, how's your side healing? You've been taking it easy, right? The medical glue isn't meant to withstand flipping around rooftops, you know."

Matthew chuckled at this as he handed them a coffee before taking his and sitting on the couch. "I'm fine." He could sense Constantine eyeing him before closing the distance. Their aim was to take the coffee he was about to sip, but their fingers found Matthew's jaw instead and he tilted his head with a grin.

"Put that down and let me see," Constantine said as they tried to reach for the coffee again. Matthew's mirth only grew as Constantine's annoyance sparked at not being able to grab the cup. "Fine. Have it your way." Matthew's tucked button shirt was yanked up abruptly. He knew it was coming, but didn't try to stop it. He had, after all, not been taking it easy, and the cut bled more often than not. "Look at what you've done to my handiwork, devil boy," Constantine scolded and began unbuttoning the shirt. "It's going to scar."

"It wouldn't be the first," he said, leaning back to give Constantine a better view. Their fingers carefully inspected the wound and Matthew concealed the shiver that crawled down his spine. There was nothing sexual about their touch, but the gentleness which Constantine displayed stirred something nonetheless. There was such a thing as being touch starved, wasn't there? Although maybe in his case, it was also affection starved. And whose fault was that, really?

Not to mention, how easy things were, somehow, with Constantine. Their second meeting and they acted like a pair of old friends. That should be a red flag all on its own, shouldn't it? He shook his head out of that line of thought and looked down at Constantine. "I'm fine, really," he added.

"I don't think you understand what the definition of 'fine' actually is. I have to stitch the center of the wound now," Constantine whined after finishing their inspection, though it seemed to be directed more to themselves than at Matthew. "Seriously, I will kick your ass if you open this again, Murdock," they said and pointed a finger at Matthew's face after they stood from the couch. "Don't move a muscle."

Matthew worked hard not to laugh as Constantine walked away, knowing they didn't realize the humor in the comment. When they returned, he fully relaxed on the couch, lying on his side to let Constantine work.

Neither spoke for a minute, Constantine focused on cleaning the wound, and Matthew found himself lost in thought once again. Even a week after, the news only talked about Fisk's return to maximum security and the on-going investigation into the FBI. As expected, though, his capture opened the door to other low-lifes wanting to snatch the title of Kingpin for themselves and the news made sure to cover that as well.

"Penny for your thoughts, Matty?" The vigilante would've flinched if the pressure of a needle wasn't against his skin. "You suddenly looked exhausted."

How long had it been since anyone used that name? An intense nostalgia hit him, along with a deep heartache, and he took a slow breath to try and clear his head as he set his coffee down. "Fisk is back behind bars, but the streets are worse now, it seems. Everyone is fighting for the vacant spot he left behind." He wasn't sure why he shared this with Constantine. Confessions of this type were usually saved for… Father Lantom. And while the heartache pierced deeper, there was also a soothing balm at being able to just speak to someone who didn't judge him. It was safe here with Constantine, even without a seal of confession. It made it hard to hold back. "I wonder if it was even worth it, putting him away, compared to the losses."

Constantine finished sewing and started cleaning him up. "Are you looking for someone that'll just listen or are you looking for my opinion?" they asked. Matthew blinked, taken aback once more. This was new. Father Lantom always gave him guidance, whether he wanted it or not. Constantine was giving him a choice in the matter. He couldn't decide if this was better or worse.

"Both," he said after a slight pause.

They finished patching him up first before speaking again. "I think you saved the heart of this city by putting away Fisk. He was a deep-rooted cancer. These other criminals popping up? A symptom left behind after cutting out the tumor that was Fisk," they said. "Eventually, it'll get better. I don't believe we can ever fully do away with evil people, but we keep trying, don't we? As for the losses, well, is there really anything that could make them worth it?"

Matthew listened as he did his shirt back up. "No," he said after a moment. "There isn't." His mind was reeling now. Elektra. Father Lantom. Ben. Elena. Countless of other people he couldn't save, no matter how hard he fought.

"And still, there were so many others that were saved because of you. So many others that were worth the fight," Constantine said quietly, as if reading his thoughts. "This city can love you or hate you, but it doesn't change the fact everyone sleeps better because you exist."

A tired laugh escaped Matt, a hand going to his eyes and rubbing hard. "I don't know if I believe that," he said honestly.

"I think you never believe anything good said about you," Constantine countered.

"It's that Catholic guilt," Matthew replied. "It's my version of an American Express card. Never leave home without it." Constantine laughed and the sound made Matthew grin, feeling pleased with himself.

"Yeah, I had an idea that you were the religious sort from the moment we met on the rooftop," they said as they put their tools away. They tried stifling a yawn as they finally closed their medical bag.

"I should get going. You need rest and I'm late for work," he said and he stood, tucking his shirt back into his trousers. "Thank you again, for everything."

They waved a hand as they walked Matthew to the door, his cane unfolding before Constantine opened the door. "No need," they said, leaning against the doorframe after Matthew stepped out. "Have a good day at work, Matty."

That nostalgia washed over him again, but he managed a smile. "Sleep well, Ti." He turned away, feeling Constantine's eyes on him, and for a moment, he considered turning back and asking to stay with them. Things were back to normal at the office, with Foggy and Karen, but there was still an endless pit of exhaustion and grief inside of him. It was bigger than the hole under Midland Circle and some days, it felt like it was growing wider still.

And Constantine, they were a haven, a welcoming resting place where he could not only hide from the world and the memories, but openly be himself, with full use of his abilities, without shame or fear of judgment. It caused him to yearn for it, that sense of normalcy he seemed to experience only around them. He dispersed those thoughts immediately and kept walking, stopping only when he heard the apartment door close and lock behind him. He listened, his head tilted, as Constantine headed to their bedroom, undressing before dropping into bed and easily slipping into sleep.

Their steady breathing and heartbeat somehow centered Matthew. He listened for a few minutes, matching his own inhale and exhale to Constantine's. When he felt steady enough, he headed out, wondering what excuse he could use to see them again.