Sorry this took so long, real life got in the way and then Matt refused to go where I wanted him too so I ended up with a block.
I'm not entirely happy with this chapter - what happens at the end of this one and the next chapter were supposed to be the focus, but things spiraled.
Chapter Text
Matt flung his grappling hook across the street and pressed the button that caused it to retract, swinging himself from one rooftop to another, higher one. He stood tall once he reached the top, tilting his head as he picked up the various sounds from across the city: the laughter, the cursing, the children asking for candy, the screams that for once were joyful rather than terrified as people were getting jumped by their friends dressed as monsters or watching horror movies. Sometimes Halloween was more challenging for Daredevil, with it not being clear who was genuinely scared and needed saving and who was scared but safe, but over the years Matt had managed to become pretty decent at separating the two; there was an edge to those who were truly scared, a desperateness and fear for their lives that wasn't there in those that were watching a movie. Matt had to be quick enough to recognise the difference and get there in time to stop whatever horrible act was about to happen, which was a challenge but not impossible. He didn't get it wrong and gate-crash someone's movie night or crash through a horror maze as much as he used too.
This was one of his favourite rooftops in the city. For one thing, it wasn't new like so many others in the area. The Incident had caused a lot of damage to Hell's Kitchen, destroying infrastructure, buildings, people's homes and businesses along with the lives it took, and everything had had to be rebuilt. New, sharp buildings replaced the old, homely ones that Matt had grown up with and the streets of Hell's Kitchen he walked now were different to the ones he'd walked with his dad; there were whole areas of his city that Matt didn't recognise and hadn't seen. This particular building though stood tall and firm through all of the struggles. It had survived an alien attack, destruction from whatever fights The Avengers managed to bring to their doorstep, and when newer models around it had crumbled during the 'earthquake' The Hand had caused, this one stayed sturdy. It remained one of the tallest buildings in the area, giving Matt a nice overview of the city because his senses could map out almost the entire thing, and it reminded him of how beautiful it was. He'd been to this building – a bar – with his dad when he was a kid, so on top of all that it was full of happy memories for him and he could remember exactly what it looked like, before his world on fire.
It reminded him of himself and of his family and friends: worn down but stubborn, never giving up, full of happiness and joy, homely and comfortable, and when life threatened to knock it down, and people had tried, it stood tall and proud whilst others fell.
When he needed a wider scope of the city and to be able to see further, this was where Matt came. Sometimes he came here just to think, sitting on the ledge as he listened to life go on around him and letting his city consume and claim him, engulf and immerse him in everything it was, forgetting all his worries and the menial tasks and stresses of his life. Today wasn't one of those times; he needed to hear the city as best and as quickly as possible, and this was the best place to do it.
Matt didn't have long to patrol, much to his disappointment. Marci's party started at 10pm and he'd promised Foggy he'd go. He'd hoped that the party would be at a normal time and he could turn up at the start then slip out halfway through to spend the rest of the night as Daredevil, but Marci wanted a truly spooky, adults-only party when it was completely dark and went on into the early hours even though most of them – including Marci – had work in the morning. Matt would be fine, he was used to going to work on limited sleep, but Foggy and Karen would be half-asleep all day, and it meant Matt couldn't do his patrol after the party. It was inconvenient because Halloween was always busy for Daredevil, but his friends needed him tonight and he had neglected them enough due to his night hobby. They deserved better and Matt had promised both Foggy and Karen he'd try harder for balance, and this was one of those moments. Foggy had reminded him multiple times a day for a month when the party was and that he had to go, from the early hours of the morning when Matt was on patrol to late at night when he was having dinner or trying to sleep, and once during an actual court case Matt was working. Faking his death Foggy could forgive, missing his and Marci's Halloween party was not. This was important to Foggy and so Matt was determined to be there.
Foggy was having a great day so far and Matt wasn't going to burst his happy bubble by turning up late or, worse, not turning up at all to his party; for once, Matt was going to be punctual (yes, he knew he had a problem). After they'd returned back to the office after court they'd had a few appointments lined up, and Foggy's bark of laughter when they'd opened the door to the waiting area let Matt know their 'serial killer's dungeon' must be a sight. It turned out, due to the time, most of their clients had decided it was appropriate to come to their appointment dressed in their costume so they could go straight out after. Karen couldn't stop laughing and Foggy was acting like he was on cloud nine, going around their waiting room complimenting everyone's costumes with passion, giving them tips, and assuring the apologetic parents that yes, it was fine, and that if he could he'd also spend all day dressed up. He'd then proceeded to put on a top hat and a fake mustache that he kept in his desk drawer (why, Matt didn't know and didn't want to ask) and spoke in a weird accent, much to the delight of their clients and their children.
Matt hadn't minded either. It was logical to not want to return home just to go out again and Matt couldn't fault them for that. It also looked good for their practice that they were more casual; their clients knew they could turn up whenever in whatever state they wanted to and they wouldn't be judged, and that Nelson, Murdock & Page were approachable and not the usual stuffy and stern law firm. Mrs Montgomery knew she could bring her children to the appointment and Matt and Foggy wouldn't care, and Mr Jefferies knew his beloved Pebbles (a Pomeranian) could attend and be treated to a bowl of water and some dog treats (those were in Karen's desk).
What Matt did mind was Mrs Johnson's six-year-old, Timmy, jumping around the waiting area in a polyester jumpsuit with an elasticated mask and a foam baton, because apparently some companies were mass-producing Daredevil costumes and they could be bought in costume shops and convenience stores – including Mrs Chen's. Matt couldn't help the feeling of betrayal at the fact his favourite store owner was ripping-off his image for profit, and would be having some stern words to her about the illegality of it.
Matt minded even more when Karen asked Mrs Johnson and Timmy if she could take a photo of him with Matt, and if Mr Jefferies and Pebbles (both also dressed in matching Daredevil costumes, and why did they do dog versions?!) could stand on Matt's other side because Matt was a huge Daredevil fan. Matt smiled through the photo and then shot Karen a glare when she happily declared she was going to display it prominently behind her desk so everyone could see it.
The only joy Matt got out the situation was when Timmy whacked his older brother Tommy with the baton, because Tommy was dressed as Iron Man who Matt may or may not have some issues with.
At that point Foggy was bent over double laughing. Later, when their clients had all gone home, he joked that Matt should start a merchandise line and sign autographs so they could boost their income and take on more clients, and that he should maybe sue the companies using Daredevil's image for profit.
Matt hated that he considered both options for more than five minutes.
To add insult to injury, he'd sensed no less than three other Daredevils on his walk home that evening. They were made of different quality materials, but all of them had horned masks or helmets, boots and a baton or two, and Daredevil was the only vigilante who had those as far as Matt was aware, and he'd like to think he was well-versed on vigilantes.
As soon as he'd made it home, Matt had ditched his cane and glasses, thrown on his Daredevil suit and was out the roof entrance within ten minutes. He was against the clock, with only a few hours before he was due at the party, so he had to move fast.
Luckily for Matt it was Halloween, and within minutes of him standing on his favourite rooftop there was the sound of curses and whimpers from two blocks over.
Matt ran to the edge of the roof and leaped off, landing on the next roof over with a forward roll and instantly jumping to his feet again without breaking momentum. As he flew from rooftop to rooftop, he used his senses to take stock of the situation and to see what he was dealing with. There were four heartbeats: one fast and scared on the ground from a person with several forming bruises and an open head-wound, the other three fast from adrenaline and the smell of metal – one gun, one knife – coming from two of them whilst the other held a bat.
"I can't believe our luck," the guy holding the gun said with a little laugh. "You're wanted by everyone: the police because your whole life is a crime, mobs because you keep ruining their operations, politicians because you make them look bad, and The Kingpin himself…but here you are, right in front of us. Us." He chuckled. "Feared and revered and we get to decide whether you live or die."
Matt frowned as he took the final jump to the rooftop overlooking the alley. Who was this person? Was he a criminal? Somebody famous? It didn't matter either way, everyone deserved the chance to live and have a second chance so Matt would save him whether he was a criminal or not, but it would be nice to know in case Matt needed to call the cops on him as well.
Matt crouched down, making sure he was still hidden in the shadows, and focused his senses down into the alley. He stiffened when he figured out what the man was monologuing about.
Oh, for God's sake.
Foggy was never going to hear about this; Matt would take the details of this save to his grave.
"Shouldn't we think about this?" The man with the knife said.
"What?"
"I mean, killing him is all well and good; I know we'd get a lot of respect for being the ones who freed the city from The Devil of Hell's Kitchen and it'd be nice to not be constantly worried about him dropping in and ruining things. But there are probably people out there who would be willing to pay us for him. Pay us big money."
This guy was smarter, thought more about the long-term benefits for himself rather than instant gratification, and Matt hated to admit it but he was probably right; people would pay a lot to have Daredevil brought to them alive, just so they could end him themselves. Of course, they'd have to choose carefully who they sold him too because most of his enemies would probably kill them too rather than pay them the money.
The man dressed as him on the floor whimpered, likely realising his life depended on which thug won the debate. Would they choose long-term over short-term pleasure? Greed or vengeance? Life or death?
This is why people shouldn't dress as Daredevil for Halloween.
It didn't really matter what the group would choose, they'd never get the chance to finish their argument and enact their decision. Matt wouldn't let them, because he was Daredevil and he saved people, and he wasn't going to let some innocent person die because they made the mistake of wanting to be like him for one night.
Matt jumped.
There was a clang as his feet hit the metal of the dumpster when he landed on the top, but the criminals didn't even have a chance to look up before Matt was somersaulting off and kicking one in the chest. The guy with the bat flew back at the contact, crashing into a collection of trash cans and wisely staying down, groaning as he held a hand to his head. Matt stayed low and pivoted, sticking one leg out to knock the gun guy's legs out from under him before he managed to fumble for his weapon. Matt stood, stepping quietly between the remaining thug and their victim, his stance strong and ready to attack at a moment's notice. The man wasn't reaching for his knife, just staring at Daredevil with wide, surprised eyes, flicking his attention between him and the costumed man on the floor with disbelief. Matt listened as the man's heartbeat started beating faster and the smell of sweat started to permeate the air: fear. This criminal was terrified as he suddenly realised that the man they had at their mercy on the floor was not the real Daredevil, and the real one was pissed. How could he think Daredevil would go down so easy? How could he think that three men with one weapon each could best him when well-trained, fully fledged gangs had fallen to him?
He knew they'd fucked up, and he knew they were in trouble.
Matt's fingers twitched towards his baton and the man's hands flew up in a surrender position.
"No, no, no, not the baton. You got me," he said, backing away.
Matt's hands stilled. Well, that was the easiest surrender he'd had in a while. Even Turk didn't fold that quickly, and by this point he and Daredevil were fairly well-acquainted.
To Matt's surprise, knife guy bent his body to try to meet his victim's gaze. "I'm sorry, man. We thought you were Daredevil, otherwise we wouldn't have jumped you and gone so hard on you like that."
The man on the floor didn't respond, but he managed to push himself up onto his elbows and spit some blood onto the floor, and his whimpers had died down. Matt would've smiled if it wouldn't have made the criminal think it was directed at him and Daredevil was letting him go, because the calmness meant the victim knew he was safe, and that's all Matt wanted his presence to do for the people in Hell's Kitchen; for them to be able to walk the streets without fear they'd end up dead in a ditch.
Knife guy straightened up, his hands still in the air as he turned his focus back to Daredevil. "We good? No baton to the face for me?"
Matt hummed thoughtfully before tilting his head. "You're lucky I have plans tonight." He wondered how far he could push his luck. Time was ticking and he wanted to make sure he'd done his best to keep people safe before he retired for the night.
Matt noticed how one of the men on the floor's breathing picked up and the brush of fingers through water as he reached for his now discarded bat. Without turning away from the one who'd surrendered, Matt quickly reached down, grabbed his baton, and flicked it towards the one on the floor, hitting him square on the head and knocking him out.
"Leave. Call the police. Tell them what you did and where they can find your friends. Tell them the victim of your crime will contact them soon with his details and to corroborate your story." Matt paused dramatically. "I will be watching you and I will be listening, so I will know if you lie or don't do as I've told you. You really don't want me to have to track you down."
The guy nodded and Matt pointed to the entrance of the alley. The man spared one glance for his fallen friends before hurrying towards the street, his hand going into his jacket pocket as he did. Matt listened with a smirk as the man's fingers wrapped around his phone rather than the knife and he pressed the buttons to call 911.
Matt kept his body between the man and his victim until he was well out of range, then turned and bent down, holding out a hand for the Other Daredevil to take.
"Are you alright, sir?"
Other Daredevil stared up at him, his mouth opening and closing, seeming almost as surprised as his attackers were when Daredevil had turned up to stop them. Then his facial muscles all relaxed at once, his shoulders dropping, and he reached up gingerly to take Matt's offered hand. Matt tugged him up, bracing one hand against his back when the man nearly toppled over. When he was stable, Matt stepped back but the man kept a firm grip on his hand.
"Are you alright?" Matt repeated, gently tugging at his hand to try to get the man to let go. Maybe he was still shaken up and needed reassurance?
"You're Daredevil…" The man said, the reverence in his voice worrying Matt. That was not something he needed and shouldn't encourage. There was the strong smell of alcohol on the man's breath and his fake baton was scuffed on one end with the faint scent of beer lingering there – Matt guessed he'd used the baton to smash a can open at some point that night – so he hoped the wistfulness was due to his being a little drunk.
"Yes, I am." Matt managed to pull his hand away but the man stepped closer as if following him.
"I'm Adrian," he said breathlessly.
Matt took a step away from him. "You're bleeding."
That seemed to snap the man out of whatever spell he'd fallen under. He grimaced as the blood trickling down his face dripped into his mouth and stuck out his tongue.
"I suppose I should be flattered, right?" Matt tilted his head in question. "That they attacked me? It means my costume is realistic."
It wasn't made of the same materials the actual Daredevil costume was, unsurprising seeing as his was custom made by Melvin, but Matt had to admit it felt and smelt better than that stupid polyester one little Timmy had been wearing.
"Yes," Matt agreed, thinking that perhaps a compliment from someone he seemed to idolise – no matter how misplaced that was - would help make the guy's evening a little less crappy. "I apologise that you got hurt because of me."
Matt could practically hear Foggy screaming at him that it wasn't his fault, and Matt knew deep down it wasn't – he had no control over how people chose to dress or whether people hurt others because of it. He couldn't help feeling guilty though because this person had got hurt because of his actions.
Adrian waved him off. "Nah, wasn't your fault. Teaches me to stop wandering down dark alleys at night." His lip curled up and his eyelids drooped as he grinned. "Even if there is a reward – like a hot chick or New York's greatest superhero."
Aw. It was nice to be appreciated, even if the compliment was coming from someone who probably wouldn't remember this interaction tomorrow. Still, a small, shallow part of Matt was gloating he was considered better than The Avengers.
"Promise me you'll stop dressing as me," Matt said firmly. Maybe he could get at least one person to stop pretending to be him, and then Foggy and Karen wouldn't have as much ammunition to tease him with, or at least Matt wouldn't be as affected because he knew he'd managed to lessen the Daredevil copycats out there.
"But you're cool, and you saved my life."
Or not. It was just Matt's luck he'd found a Daredevil just as unwilling to concede as he was. Adrian's tone was one of somebody who was firm in their conviction and let Matt know he would not budge on the matter.
Matt levelled him with a look that he usually reserved for the courtroom when a witness had blatantly lied, Matt knew they had lied, and he was letting them know he knew they lied as he waited for them to fall over their words and admit to it. He knew Adrian wasn't lying about thinking Daredevil was cool and wanting to honour him, but the unimpressed, pointed, 'really?' look Matt gave him that dared him to continue usually encouraged a person to change their mind. Foggy said that look was one that, if Brett saw it on Matt, would instantly out him as Daredevil because it was like his two selves crept into each other.
Unfortunately, Adrian was either too drunk or too determined to appreciate the full effect.
"Although, if I knew how much I'd get the crap kicked out of me, I probably would've added extra padding," Adrian continued cheerily, tapping his side. "This is the second time this has happened to me tonight. Do you have a load of bubble wrap under there to protect you from knives?" He eyed Matt's costume with an intense interest only the drunk and suspicious could, which Matt found kinda invasive.
"No," Matt said bluntly, hoping Adrian didn't try to bubble wrap himself and then go around looking for trouble.
Honestly, Matt didn't really know why he was wasting his time trying to convince a drunk guy to not wear a costume on Halloween, usually he just jumped in, saved someone, and jumped out with few words spoken. It felt important though.
Or he was just embarrassed people were dressing as him and needed at least one person to stop, and was delaying going back to his patrol in case he found more people walking around as him. It was unnerving, and Matt really didn't like it.
"Please reconsider your costume in future," Matt tried, promising himself this would be his last attempt to use logic with a drunk guy.
"I wouldn't worry too much, my dude. Wearing the same Halloween costume two years running is a crime against society." Matt tried not to think about his yearly pirate costume and Foggy's outrage; he'd have to admit Foggy was right then. "So this is my last year being you for at least, like, three years." Adrian immediately brightened. "I'm going as The Punisher next year. Maybe zombie Captain America."
Matt found his lips twitching up into a smile. The image of drunk Adrian stomping around the city yelling at people because they stole his beer and Frank's bewildered response made him want to laugh. "Frank will love that."
"Oh yeah, he told me he knew you!" Adrian said, straightening up and his smile getting even wider. "Said he wouldn't introduce me to you because you were busy but joke's on him. I met you anyway!" He frowned. "Although he did also mention I'd probably get mugged and meet you that way…" His eyes widened and his voice dropped to a whisper. "Do you think he has superpowers and can see the future?"
"No," Matt said. "Why were you with The Punisher?" Maybe Adrian wasn't as innocent as he looked. Maybe he was working with Frank, conspiring some mass-murder plot, they were friends or Adrian was an intended victim that Frank had let go and Matt needed to investigate.
"I ran into him at the dock," Adrian said. "Went there for…something, I can't remember what, then next thing I knew I was on the ground and there were gunshots and a bunch of dead guys around me and other people screaming."
Matt hadn't heard anyone screaming, which meant he'd missed something big.
"Dead guys?" Matt questioned.
"Yeah, dead guys. They weren't dead when I got there. It's all a little fuzzy, but I'm 63% sure they were trying to kill me because they didn't like my costume. The people who ran screaming also did not like my costume."
"Who are they?"
"No idea. Not Daredevil fans, obviously," Adrian said, drawing the word out. "And kinda sketchy."
"Sketchy how?" It was like trying to get blood from a stone.
"Well, for one they don't like Daredevil. Who doesn't like Daredevil?"
Many, many people who didn't like Matt breaking up their drug operations, mugging attempts, burglary, or attempted mass destruction of the city and getting them arrested.
"Frank," Matt stated instead.
"Ah, I wouldn't be so sure," Adrian said, waving his hand as if brushing Matt's comment away. "He was weirdly protective of you. Being all like 'you gotta leave him alone to do his job' and 'he gets all mopey. I don't like it when he's mopey' and 'he smells of strawberries,'" Adrian said, lowering his voice to sound gruffer like Frank's and doing an admittedly decent impression of him.
What the fuck?
"Strawberries?" Matt asked, flabbergasted.
Adrian nodded then took a big sniff, sighing contently. "Yeah, and he was right. You smell delicious."
Matt was going to ignore that comment. The idea of Frank thinking he smelt delicious made him shift uncomfortably in a way that was not at all negative, and that Matt really didn't want to examine too hard.
"Frank saved you?" He said instead.
"Yup."
That was something at least: Frank had saved a life tonight rather than simply take them. It meant Matt didn't have to feel as guilty about not paying enough attention that he hadn't heard a potential shootout and wasn't there to stop Frank or, more likely, whoever Frank was there to stop. He still felt guilty, lives had been lost after all and hope extinguished for some, and he could've prevented that, but Frank had done some good tonight rather than just gun people down like he sometimes did. Maybe Matt was rubbing off on him.
Not likely.
Matt hated that he heard that in Frank's voice.
Adrian shrugged. "He's not all that scary really, I don't know why people hide from him. Probably the big guns. They don't make him seem very friendly." He suddenly straightened up and pointed at Matt. "Hey! Maybe you could be his friend! You don't seem like you'd be scared of big guns, and you'd be a great friend. He needs some, I think."
Matt briefly wondered if it was possible to get drunker off of air because Adrian was making less and less sense. Matt was under no circumstances going to admit to anyone – not Adrian, not himself, and especially not Frank - that he already spent more time with Frank than he needed to because he enjoyed his company and did already consider them friends. It would lead to too many questions and his thoughts spiralling down a rabbit hole he didn't want to fall into. Would admitting he liked Frank be a betrayal to his faith? Would it be turning his back on his principles? His oath of making the streets of Hell's Kitchen safe? His unwavering belief of the value of every life, including those of criminals? Could he turn a blind eye to Frank's wrongdoings for the sake of friendship? Would defending Frank and believing he had a good heart and more loyalty than most of the population make people think he approved of Frank's methods? Would people trust him less? Would he and Frank start spending time together outside of work? Would they start sharing their feelings more? Were they going to have to start buying each other birthday and Christmas presents? How would Matt tell Foggy he was friends with a murderer? Would Foggy tell him to drop Frank? Would Karen encourage it and it create a rift between them?
Would he have to deal with knowing looks from Foggy because Foggy knew Matt had a 'type' and Frank matched it, and suspicious glances from Karen when she worked out they weren't just working together because they were both scared of her and were closer than she thought?
Because despite everything, Matt couldn't get the image of the Daredevil/Punisher family from earlier out of his head.
"He's not a bad person," Adrian said genuinely, dragging Matt out of the rabbit hole he swore he wouldn't fall down and echoing some of Matt's own thoughts. "He saved me from those gang people earlier, which he wouldn't do if he was cold and heartless and a shoot first, ask questions later kinda guy. I think he's gone to track them down so they don't hurt anyone else."
That sounded like something Matt could help with. By this point he was an expert on dealing with gangs, and semi-decent in dealing with Frank Castle. Taking down 'sketchy' people is what Daredevil promised to do, and there was no doubt that if The Punisher was going after them then they were some very bad people that needed to be taken off the streets and who Matt didn't want in Hell's Kitchen. Daredevil needed to get to them and take them out quickly to keep his city safe and before they did any more damage, whatever that damage may be. Frank probably had it in hand, but Matt couldn't let him gun down what sounded like a lot of people; he had to at least try to convince Frank to do things without the bullets or killing everyone. It was unlikely that Matt could get to them first seeing as Frank was already on their trail and knew what he was hunting for, but if Matt was quick he could stop a blood bath and prevent any innocent people turning into collateral damage.
Matt was in no way going to admit that he was concerned Frank would be that collateral damage.
He probably had two hours until he had to be at the party. That was enough time to hunt down this gang and stop Frank turning Hell's Kitchen into a war zone or getting himself killed, and if he was a little late Foggy would probably understand. Or at least Karen would back Matt up.
"Any ideas where they were headed?" Matt asked, not expecting much.
Adrian shook his head wildly. "Nope. I was preoccupied with the whole knocked down, surrounded by dead bodies thing."
Matt nodded. That was fair enough. He gripped Adrian's arm loosely and started guiding him towards the alley entrance. "Be careful out there tonight. Try to keep safe. I don't want you to get into trouble a third time and have to save you again."
Adrian was silent, his breathing a little heavy and his head tilted down to where Matt's hand was resting on his arm. Belatedly, Matt wondered if Adrian was someone who, like Matt, only liked people who he was close to touching him so intimately.
He didn't have to worry.
"I am never washing this arm again," Adrian whispered to himself as they stopped at the exit, Matt waiting in the shadows of the alley whilst Adrian was on the fairly lively and well-lit street. "Daredevil touched me."
"Have a nice evening, Adrian."
"And he remembered my name," Adrian said, before shaking his head and beaming at Matt. "This has been the best day of my life. Enjoy your night too! And good luck stopping the bad guys."
"Thanks."
"Where're you going anyway?" Adrian asked. Matt suspected he was just trying to prolong their conversation.
Matt paused for a second.
"To find Frank," he admitted.
It took Matt an embarrassing amount of time to find the gang Adrian had mentioned to him. It seemed that whatever Frank had done whilst saving him had scared them enough it had them scurrying into the shadows and keeping themselves hidden. Matt had hoped he'd be able to find them quickly, searching for warehouses that had numerous heartbeats in and large gatherings and, whilst he had found some gangs and taken them out, none of them matched Adrian's description and there was no sign of The Punisher. Matt begrudgingly admitted that it made sense: if Frank was going after these people they must be big, not the street-level gangs Matt dealt with more often and people who were both hard to trace and overly cautious.
Matt didn't have time to investigate every single slightly suspicious heartbeat or movement in the city, nor could he just wait until something started happening because by then it would be too late; lives would be lost, the damage done. He was becoming frustrated and angry with himself that he was failing at his job and failing his city, because it was like trying to find a needle in a haystack of needles.
Then he realised he didn't have to track the gang members' heartbeats to find them.
He could track Frank's.
Frank would be on their trail for sure by this point. Matt didn't know how exactly Frank did it or where he got his information, but it was always good and usually efficient. If these people had already been on Frank's radar, he'd have most of their details and likely know where they'd disappeared to by now, if he wasn't already there. Matt hadn't heard a firefight, so Frank hadn't started shooting yet at least.
Frank's heartbeat was easy to trace for Matt. Matt wouldn't admit it, but he found its steadiness and strength comforting, and even in a fight Frank's heartbeat rarely wavered. Sometimes – sometimes – Matt even sought it out if he was having trouble sleeping, with the consistent and reliable pulsing managing to distract him from the chaos of the city and relax him enough so he could drift off to sleep. It wasn't strange, Matt told himself, he did the same thing with both Foggy and Karen, with the reassurance of their heartbeats all he needed sometimes. He was alive, they were alive, everyone was safe and he could rest.
Matt located Frank on a rooftop halfway across the city from where he'd saved Adrian, lying on his stomach with his coat covering his skull vest and wearing fingerless gloves, likely to hold off the biting cold that had started to creep in rather than to keep his identity hidden. It wasn't an unusual occurrence as Matt often found Frank in similar positions, usually just before a fight – whether that be the two of them fighting with the criminals or each other. Matt settled in the shadows of the fire escape on the next building over, keeping very still so Frank didn't spot him; he knew even the slightest twitch and Frank, being on high alert, would have that gun trained on Matt within seconds. Matt just hoped if that did happen, Frank realised it was him before he pulled the trigger.
Matt tilted his head slightly in the direction Frank was pointing his gun in and focused on what was going on. It was a warehouse, medium size, a block away from the buildings he and Frank were currently situated on. There must've been nothing, or very little, standing between them and the warehouse for Frank to have a clear visual and be confident enough he could take out an army from this location without killing innocent civilians. It was far enough away from residential buildings that nobody would notice people coming and going at all hours but not isolated enough that it would have the cops doing routine checks every night and have them flagged on some sort of watchlist. The smells coming out of the building weren't pleasant, with the familiar smells of blood, gunpowder, metal, gasoline and cocaine merging into one. There were twenty-four people in the building and another eight stationed at the various entrances, and to Matt's surprise he also found four on the rooftops of the two neighbouring buildings, all heavily armed. Whoever this particular gang was, they weren't taking chances.
It would be a difficult takedown. Usually with an operation this large, with that many people, weapons, and opportunities for something to go wrong, Matt would call in backup. Luke, Jessica, Danny, Peter, or Frank were his usual victims and normally willing to help after some prodding. Which raised one very important question: did he approach Frank?
Speaking to Frank was the wise thing to do. This was a huge mission and something both of them would struggle with alone; they could do it, but it wouldn't be without some serious injuries. Working together made it half the work, promised back-up, and it would be handled quicker with less casualties. Speed and not ending up bleeding to death due to multiple gunshot wounds was very appealing to Matt, because he didn't think Foggy would appreciate a bullet-ridden pirate turning up to his place. It would also split the gang's attention and make them more vulnerable.
But no. No, if Matt approached Frank, he'd start firing instantly and arguing with him. It was best if Matt just dealt with this quickly, quietly and alone.
With that in mind, Matt sank further back into the shadows, unlatching the nearest window and ducking into the apartment, which belonged to an elderly woman with two cats that Matt managed to dodge. He went through a window on the opposite end so he was hidden from Frank's attentive eyes and could move without fear of detection.
It was tactical to take out the rooftop guards first; they had the best vantage point to see Daredevil slowly knocking out their squad, were the most likely to notice something was wrong, and they were in the perfect place to get in easy shots. If the fighting spilled out in front of the warehouse, they could fire into the crowd and it would be like shooting fish in a barrel – there would be huge casualties, one potentially being Matt. Plus, it was not guaranteed Frank had spotted the roof guards, obscured as they were, and if -when - he did get involved that meant he wouldn't be surprised.
Matt scaled the building, pausing as one of the guards passed him on a round of the rooftop where he was scrutinising the streets below for any unwelcome activity. When it was safe, Matt flung himself over the top of the ledge and landed gently on the roof. He quietly crept up behind the oblivious man, and with an elbow to the side, a fist to the face, and a knee to the crotch (not necessarily in that order) had him unconscious on the ground before the man even realised what was going on. The second guard on that roof was just as easy to take out, Matt waiting until he'd circled around to find his friend's prone body before sliding out from behind the chimney and smacking him over the head with his baton. He grabbed their radios and smashed them under his boot for good measure.
Matt shimmed back down the building, sneaking around the back to keep himself covered. He briefly wondered whether he should have actually gone to Frank just to avoid all these extra manoeuvres but quickly dismissed it. It wasn't worth the risk.
There was no way to get to the other manned rooftop without either circling back and around a few blocks – which Matt did not have time for – or passing the warehouse and at least some of the guards. There were four on the front-facing side, leaning casually against the wall in a group to look like normal civilians rather than heavily armed criminals, two on the side entrances on the left side of the building, none on the far side with their being no entrances or exits, and two on the back closest to Matt, who were stood apart and his best option. Matt darted over the gap between the buildings and crouched behind a dumpster as one of the guards turned, likely catching a blur of movement out of the corner of his eye. After a few beats of silence, he turned away and went back to staring ahead of him. Matt moved quickly, speeding forwards and jabbing the guy in the face whilst holding his head still, catching him as he crumbled and lying him on the floor, hidden in the alcove the door created. He did the same to the other guard before dragging them both to the dumpster and throwing them in, placing a few heavy boxes on top of the lid to keep them there if they woke up. They wouldn't die from starvation or anything, someone would hear them screaming eventually.
With that out of the way, he made his way up the fire escape on the neighbouring building, giving the guards there the same treatment as the guys on the other roof. One put up more of a fight than the other, bringing out a knife after Matt knocked the gun out of his hand, but Matt dodged easily and slammed his head into the chimney before throwing him to the floor.
With the roof guards neutralised, Matt somersaulted off the building to land on the side of the warehouse with no guards. That was six down, six to go outside and then the twenty-four inside. He jogged across the back of the warehouse, lamenting about how long this was taking, past the dumpster which was still blissfully silent of yelling, and threw his baton at one of the guards patrolling the other side before kicking the other one with as much force as possible. So far, so good. Eight down, twenty-eight to go.
This was when things became more challenging. Getting the four guarding the front of the building was logically the next step, but that would reveal Daredevil's presence to Frank and he didn't really want Frank to start ranting at him and distracting him from the fight. He mentally calculated whether it would be easier to sneak through one of the now unmanned doors and handle those inside first, but realised that would be difficult seeing as all twenty-four were in the same room rather than spread out. It would become a full-blown fight, twenty-four against one, and it would likely be exhausting for Matt. The outside guards would undoubtedly come running in at the sounds of gunfire and add to the problem, as would Frank. Either way, Frank would work out Daredevil was there so Matt might as well go for the easy option.
Matt prepared himself for the fight – both from the guards and Frank – before charging around the corner.
The fact the four were all crowded together was actually a benefit for Matt as he was able to push the one closest to him into another, sending both crashing to the ground and startling the others enough that they waited too long to reach for their weapons. Matt struck his baton across the closest one's face, causing him to stumble to the side, then twisted his arm behind his back and tugged until he heard something crack and the guy groaned in pain. He fell to the floor, nursing his arm. Matt flung his baton out, hitting the other guard's hand where it had landed on her gun, which had her snatching her hand away on instinct. Before she could do anything, Matt knocked her over the head whilst simultaneously kicking back at the men on the floor as they tried to get up. The woman fell and there was a grunt of pain from the men behind him. Matt stepped back, bringing his boot down hard on one man's leg, then his hand where it rested on the ground, hearing both of them snap. Matt ran at the wall, launching himself off it as he tackled the remaining guard and had him on the floor unconscious with one powerful jab to his jaw.
Matt stopped, breathing heavily and tilting his head from side to side as he listened to see if he'd drawn any attention from the people inside the warehouse; the guards had made some noise, but apparently were not loud enough to penetrate the walls. Matt relaxed his body, the adrenaline still surging through him as he considered his next move. He'd managed to so far get away with no injuries, but unless he was smart he wouldn't be able to remain unscathed once he entered that warehouse. He was good, he was not 'can take on twenty-four armed people with their profits on the line alone and walk out without a scratch' good. The question was what was the better move: sneak in through the back entrance and pick off as many as possible with the knowledge that once someone noticed all Hell would break loose and he'd have whoever he didn't get after him all at once, or go in with a bang and surprise them enough that he could take out most of them before they could react.
"You fucking asshole."
Matt snorted and turned to face the rooftop Frank was on, giving him a wide smile that was all teeth and a little wave. Frank huffed in what Matt dared to call amusement in response.
Then the harsh sound of a gunshot echoed through the air.
Matt flinched back at the noise, noticing the smash of something heavy hitting the sidewalk beside him and breaking into pieces – a gun. The sharp tang of blood settled on his tongue and there was a whoosh of air as something thudded above him, then the telling sound of a heartbeat stopping.
Well, it seemed Frank had noticed the roof guards after all and noticed that one of them wasn't as unconscious as Matt had suspected, and that they had the intention to kill their attacker.
Luckily for Matt, the guard didn't know there was an ex-marine surveilling them from another rooftop, who hopefully liked Matt more than he liked drug dealers.
Matt gave Frank a little salute in thanks.
Unfortunately for Matt, the gunshot had alerted the men and women inside that something was wrong. The doors of the warehouse burst open and the people inside flooded out, yelling and loading their guns as they swarmed around him, circling around and trapping him between them. Matt kept his expression blank and body still, tilting his head to one side as he pointedly faced forward. To those surrounding him, he would appear unbothered, not moving a muscle nor bothering to turn around to regard them all, but he was actually using his senses to analyse the situation: how many people there were, how many weapons they had, where those weapons were, who was nervous and who was confident, who was the weak link, who had pre-existing injuries he could exploit, and who would be his biggest problem.
He realised very quickly he couldn't do this alone, and that he had to put all his trust in a man who regularly punched him in the face and had shot him in the head.
Despite all that, Matt did trust Frank; he trusted Frank had his back and would do the right thing, and there was probably nobody better to have on his side right now. If they worked together, they could handle this.
The question was could Matt fight fast and strong enough and Frank shoot true and quick enough that they did that before Matt got hurt.
