Heather decided to wash the dinner dishes by hand. Sure, she could have used Matt's dishwasher, but she wanted to keep her hands busy, and this was a good way to do it. The door to Matt's room slid open and Heather glanced up from the sink. He'd changed into the all black outfit that she was more used to seeing him in, though this was the first time she really noticed just how fitted his shirt was. For a second, it made her think about how comfortable it had felt when he'd held her. Heather hastily pushed the thought away, and desperately hoped that if he noticed her sudden bout of nerves, he'd just chalk it up to the conversation they'd had earlier.

"I'm not sure how long I'll be gone," Matt said, his voice making her glance back up at him. "Don't feel like you need to wait up for me."

"Okay," she said. She wondered for a moment what exactly he was planning to do tonight, but…she really didn't want to ask.

When he made it to the bottom of the stairs, he paused and looked back at her. "I almost forgot; did you need me to get anything from your place while I'm out?"

Heather hesitated for the briefest moment, remembering how a few more changes of clothes would come in handy, but it wasn't that big a deal and she didn't want to inconvenience him. And, truth be told, she didn't want him asking questions about why she wanted more clothes either. "No, thanks. I'm pretty sure I've got everything I need."

His head cocked to the side. "That didn't sound convincing."

Heather made a soft noise of protest. "Okay, but that wasn't a lie, how could you…?"

Matt shrugged, his mouth tipping up slightly. "You hesitated before you answered."

"Of course," she grumbled. She rinsed the pot she'd been washing and set it in the drying rack. "It really isn't a big deal though; I'll be fine without it."

"I'm planning to stop by your place anyway, so it isn't inconveniencing me to pick something up," Matt said, leaning on the stair railing.

Heather paused in her movements. "You are?"

He nodded. "I want to check and see if your disappearance has been noticed. If it has, then someone has probably been in your place."

If he was going to go to her apartment anyway, there really wasn't a reason not to have him pick up more clothes for her, except of course that she didn't want Matt asking why she needed more clothes. She wasn't ready to admit her attempts at exercising to him, but if he actually asked, there wouldn't really be a way to hide it.

But now there wasn't really a way to not ask for something without that looking weird too. Guess I might as well go for it.

"In that case," Heather said slowly, "I think I could actually use a couple extra outfits? Nothing special, just um, a couple more leggings and t-shirts?"

If he thought her request was odd, he didn't say so. "Where will I find them?"

"Middle drawer of my dresser," Heather said.

He nodded, starting up the stairs again. "Got it."

Heather bit her lip as she watched him go. She didn't know what else he was planning to do tonight, but it would undoubtedly be dangerous. "Matt?" He paused, his head turning back towards her. "Just…be careful?"

It was hard to read his expression when he was wearing the mask, but Heather thought he softened a little. "Don't worry about me," he said. "I can handle myself."

"I know," Heather said. She was probably going to worry anyway.

Matt's first stop that night was Karen's place. She was working on her laptop when he got there, her half-eaten dinner cold and apparently forgotten beside her.

I've got to be careful.

This interaction was risky in a way that simple fights weren't. Now that Karen was working at the office, it would make it that much easier for her to recognize him. He just had to hope that the images she had in her mind for Matt Murdock and the Devil of Hell's Kitchen were different enough that she wouldn't put it together.

Matt rapped his knuckles on her window. Karen started, whirling around in her chair. Her heart slowed some when she saw it was him, but her muscles were still tensed. Matt gestured towards the window, hoping he hadn't miscalculated about Karen's willingness to talk to him.

For a heartbeat she didn't move, but then she stood from her chair and moved towards him. Matt backed up a few steps, hoping he was moving out of the light from her apartment and further into shadows. The window opened slowly, and Karen partially leaned out.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I heard you were looking into the Kingpin," Matt said, keeping his voice pitched lower than normal.

Karen hesitated. "How could you hear about that?"

"Doesn't matter," Matt said. "What matters is I have information for you."

She tensed, her heart picking up. "What information?"

"His name, for starters."

Karen leaned forward eagerly, taking a breath to ask questions, but Matt didn't give her a chance. "You're looking for Wilson Fisk."

"Fisk?" she repeated, immediately recognizing his last name. "He's related to Heather Fisk?"

"He's her brother," Matt confirmed.

"Brother?" she repeated. "I never found anything about a brother."

"He's made himself a ghost," Matt said. "But he exits."

"Do you know where I can find Heather?" Karen asked.

Matt paused a moment. Somehow, he hadn't foreseen that question, but he really should have.

"I don't recommend talking to her," Matt said instead of properly answering.

"But if she's his sister, then," Karen started.

"She doesn't know anything," Matt interrupted. "She had no idea that Fisk was a criminal until Vladimir kidnapped her." He gave her a summarized version of things as he knew them, mentioning that Heather was currently hiding from Wilson to prevent him from kidnapping her.

Karen's fingers drummed against the windowsill as she absorbed the information. After a moment she let out a frustrated sigh. "If he's a ghost and she's in hiding, I don't know how any of this helps take him down."

"He's a ghost, but his money man isn't," Matt said. "Leland Owlsley. If you can get him, there's a chance he'll turn on Fisk."

Her heart picked up again. "Owlsley? Do you know anything else about him?"

"Just the name," Matt said. "Be careful going after him, Ms. Page. He'll be closely guarded." Though hopefully not as closely as he might have been. Matt still didn't know how Fisk was going to react to Heather vanishing, but it should work to distract him, and that distraction could make him sloppy.

"I'd think you'd be more worried about yourself," Karen said. "You're the one he's actively trying to murder right now."

"Maybe," Matt said, "but if you're not careful, Fisk will add you to that list. Again."

She flinched at the reminder that Fisk had almost had her killed before; she was lucky the Union Allied case had resolved in a way that they'd apparently decided Karen's death was no longer necessary. "I'll be careful."

Matt wasn't sure he really believed her, but hopefully she'd at least try.

His next stop for the night was the offices that Heather had told him about. He didn't plan to break in; this was just a scouting mission. While these offices were likely just fronts for Fisk's criminal activities, it was possible they were wrapped up with legitimate activities as well. There could very well be people working there who had no idea that Fisk was the Kingpin, and Matt didn't want to run into any of them – though admittedly, there weren't likely to be too many of those around at this time of night. But Matt also didn't want to risk tipping his hand too soon for no good reason, because even if he found some low-level employee who did know about Fisk's criminal activities, that didn't guarantee they knew anything useful. He had to be careful how he used this current advantage.

The buildings were as empty as he'd expected, which meant he wasn't able to learn much about what actually went on at either place, but he was able to get a feel for the general layouts, which would come in handy when he went back during business hours to learn more. Once he'd satisfied himself there, Matt moved on to his final stop for the night, Heather's apartment.

Her apartment was empty, but Matt could smell cheap cigarettes, which told him someone had been there. Guess that means Fisk knows.

There was no telling how Fisk might respond to Heather's disappearance, but there was no doubt in Matt's mind it would serve to distract him from his other plans. Good.

Now to get the clothes Heather had asked for. He wasn't sure why she needed more outfits, but she'd been nervous enough asking that Matt had decided not to press the subject. Matt moved to her room and went to her dresser. The clothes were in the drawer Heather had told him they'd be in, which was a small relief, because it felt awkward enough going through one drawer, Matt didn't really want to search through others, even if Heather had asked him to. It wasn't until he'd gotten a couple t-shirts and leggings out of the drawer that he realized the one flaw in this plan; he didn't actually have anything to carry the clothes in. It hadn't occurred to him to bring a bag, nor had he asked Heather where one might be.

Matt let out a frustrated huff at the lack of foresight, but there was nothing for it now. I think she got that bag she used for the coffee and creamer out of the closet by her door? Maybe she'd have another there. He carried the bundle of clothes out of her room and dropped them on the couch before heading to the closet. It was cluttered, making searching through it more annoying than it needed to be, but luckily, he was able to locate a bag after all.

That mission accomplished, Matt headed back out into the night and to his own apartment. It was quiet when he arrived; seemed like Heather had taken his advice and not waited up for him after all. It wasn't until he was on the steps heading down that it properly registered she was sleeping on his couch instead of in his room.

His mouth tipped down in a frown. He'd told her the bedroom was hers to use, and he hadn't meant just for the one night. He was half tempted to move her, but she was already sound asleep, cocooned in one of his blankets, and much as Matt didn't want to leave her on the couch, he didn't really want to wake her either. He let out a quiet sigh and set the bag by the couch where she'd easily find it in the morning before going to his room.

He changed and crawled into bed, knowing he needed to get some rest. Tomorrow was another work day. The sheets smell like her. The scent was faint but lingering, her shampoo, her coffee, and creamer. Matt breathed deeply, muscles slowly relaxing, and drifted off to sleep.

Wilson sat in his chair, staring at the wall. It was just plain white; he'd never bothered having his safehouse painted. It felt surreal, being here now. An unplanned for twist. A precaution Wesley had insisted was necessary, now that the Devil of Hell's Kitchen had taken Heather.

He was sure that was what had happened. It would never have occurred to Heather to run from him on her own, just like it would never have occurred to her to have that interview on her own. The Devil of Hell's Kitchen was manipulating her somehow.

I can't predict my own sister anymore.

That was why Wilson had moved to a safehouse that Heather had no knowledge of. He didn't know anymore what Heather might reveal about him. Couldn't guess whether she'd tell the Devil of Hell's Kitchen where he lived.

How had that masked devil managed to turn Heather so thoroughly against him?

"Pretty sure the worst of her injuries are from your bomb."

"I don't need to. Like I said. She doesn't want to talk to you."

Wilson stared at the wall, unseeing. He must have used the events of that awful night to paint Wilson as a villain in Heather's eyes; to claim that Wilson was the monster, that he was hurting people for his own gain rather than for the greater good.

I should have talked to Heather more that night.

He'd been trying to be as considerate of her feelings as he could, given the situation. He'd thought giving her space to process the changes about to happen in her life was the best answer. Had he realized that he was leaving her vulnerable to the manipulations of the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, Wilson wouldn't have given her any time. He'd have taken her that night and dealt with the fallout later. Whatever anger she felt over the situation would have been preferable to this complete betrayal.

I will find her.

Wilson already had people working on locating her, but as yet they'd found nothing. They had determined that she hadn't gone to any of her friends, nor had she touched the little money left in her accounts. They couldn't use her phone to find her, since she'd left that behind. But Wilson wouldn't stop looking until something turned up.

The most straightforward way to do it would be to capture the Devil of Hell's Kitchen and question him.

Easier said than done. Wilson couldn't very well set a trap for the man when he didn't know when and where he'd go.

There were footsteps coming up behind him, but Wilson didn't look. The only person who knew he was here was Wesley, so there was no one else it could be.

"Sir," Wesley said, "my apologies for interrupting, but Nobu is on the phone. He is very insistent about speaking with you."

Wilson's grip on the armrests of his chair tightened. He didn't care about Nobu or his problems right now; the man was quickly making himself more of a thorn in Wilson's side than he was worth. Unfortunately, Wilson couldn't afford to completely ignore him. Not yet.

He held out a hand for the phone. When it was deposited in his hand, Wilson held it to his ear and forced a calmness he didn't feel into his voice. "Nobu-san. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"The time for pleasantries is at an end," Nobu said, irritation clear in his tone. "I was promised a city block in return for my aid in your ventures."

I don't have time for this.

He could have given Nobu a city block already, if only the man weren't so picky about which block he got. Why he wanted a particular spot, Wilson didn't know. He'd investigated the buildings and the land, and as far as he could tell, there was nothing special about them. The only thing of significance there were the very stubborn tenants who refused to leave.

"There is a tenement in the particular area you've asked for that has proven troublesome to vacate," Wilson explained, wishing the man would see reason. "But there are other blocks coming up –"

Nobu cut him off sharply. "It must be the one I asked for."

So much for seeing reason. Wilson had to resist the urge to crush the phone in his hand. "I don't recall guaranteeing a specific block. You'll need to be patient, or choose another."

"I am bound by certain requirements," Nobu said. "Even I have those I must answer to. After the setback at the docks, I can afford no further disruptions. Do what you must, but do it quickly."

There would be no yielding then. Another frustration that Wilson didn't have time to deal with, not while Heather was out of his reach.

Then an idea sparked, sudden and startlingly clear.

Perhaps he could make this situation useful after all.

The smell of coffee drifted through the air, slowly rousing Heather. It was not immediately enough to make her move; she was comfortable where she was, wrapped up in her blanket burrito, but after a few minutes, the smell was too much for her to ignore. She poked her head out of the blanket and squinted at the bright morning light. She'd forgotten for a moment that Matt didn't have curtains over his living room windows.

"Good morning," Matt said, his voice coming from somewhere in the vicinity of the kitchen.

"Mm, morning," Heather mumbled. She managed to sit up, wincing as she did. Her muscles were all sore from her exercises the day before, far more than she'd anticipated. She blinked the sleep out of her eyes and focused, spotting Matt in the kitchen. He was dressed for work already – sans jacket and tie – and fixing breakfast.

How did I sleep through that?

"Are omelets good for breakfast?" Matt asked over his shoulder. "I was going to make spinach, mushroom, and feta."

"Um, yeah," Heather said. "That sounds good."

I wonder if this is going to be our routine? He made breakfast yesterday too.

Heather was okay with the idea; Matt making breakfast and Heather making dinner seemed like a pretty fair set up. She squirmed out of the blanket, which took a moment given how she'd wrapped herself up in it, then stood to go get some coffee. She took a step, then promptly stumbled over the bag she hadn't noticed by the couch, though by some luck she managed not to fall flat on her face.

Matt immediately turned towards her. "Are you alright?"

"Fine, fine," Heather stammered, even as her cheeks flushed. "I'm fine. I just – I didn't notice the bag…" She picked it up and set it on the couch to make sure she avoided a repeat action.

"Sorry, I should have put it somewhere out of the way," Matt said. "It's the clothes you asked for."

"No, no, it's fine," Heather insisted. "I just don't pay enough attention before I've had my coffee." Though almost falling on her face had done as much to wake her up as a cup of coffee normally did; adrenaline was good for something after all.

A smile tugged at his mouth, and he tilted his head towards the coffee machine. "Well, it's a good thing I have some ready for you then."

"That's very appreciated," Heather said. She ran a hand through her hair as she moved that way, wincing as her fingers caught in some tangles. Her hair probably looked like a rat's nest, and she wondered vaguely if Matt's senses were enough to let him notice the state of her hair. Not that it really mattered.

As she fixed her coffee, she asked, "So, uh, how'd last night go?"

"Fine," Matt said. He moved the first omelet onto a plate and held it out to her. She took it with thanks and moved to the table.

"Someone had been in your apartment," he said, and Heather paused before taking a bite. "I'm guessing it was one of your brother's men, so he knows you're gone now."

It felt like she'd swallowed a lead weight, and Heather's appetite evaporated, despite the tantalizing smell of the food on her plate. "Oh." She took a sip of coffee, more to stall for time than anything else.

"Any idea what he might do to try and find you?" Matt asked mildly.

Heather poked at her food with a fork and shrugged. "Honestly? No. I never imagined he could be involved in anything like this." Had never imagined her own brother would be willing to destroy her life and keep her essentially a prisoner to keep her 'safe' and out of his way. "I have no idea what he'll do now; you could probably make better guesses at it than I could, honestly."

Matt looked pensive as he settled in one of the other chairs, setting his own plate in front of him. "Well, he'll certainly be looking for you. He'll probably monitor your bank accounts and social media to see if anything comes up there. Might keep an eye on your friends to see if any of them are helping you."

Alarm shot through her, making her sit up straighter in her seat. "You don't think he'll hurt them, do you?"

He hesitated a moment before answering, which didn't do anything to reassure Heather. "Probably not. It should become clear from some simple observation that they don't know where you are, so he shouldn't have any reason to hurt them."

Probably wasn't exactly a guarantee…but there wasn't an honest way that Matt could give her one either. She'd have to accept it and hope for the best.

Hoping for the best didn't sit as comfortably as it once had.

AN: We don't need to discuss how long it's been since I updated. Just know I haven't abandoned anything! Hope y'all enjoyed the chapter, even with the wait.