Chapter 4

Foggy

Foggy stared at the screen of his laptop, trying to figure out how much his wrongfully-fired client should demand to settle her case against her sleazy former employer. His phone rang, interrupting his calculations. He didn't recognize the name or number displayed on the screen, but he answered it anyway. "Franklin Nelson."

"You probably won't remember me, Mr. Nelson," a woman's voice said. "My name is Susan Miller. Your firm represented my cousin, Dorothea Thompson, in her workers' comp case last year."

"Yes, I remember," Foggy replied guardedly. "Is she OK?"

"Yes, yes, she's fine, but I'm not calling about Dorothea. It's about your partner, Mr. Murdock."

Foggy's heart pounded. "What about him?"

"I volunteer at the free clinic on 40th Street. He showed up here this morning, looking a little – well, actually, a lot – the worse for wear. And he seems to be having a problem with his memory."

"I'll be right there. Don't let him go anywhere."

"Actually," Ms. Miller explained, "I'm taking him to the ER at Metro-General. We don't have the facilities to evaluate him properly here at the clinic. You can meet us there."

"I'm on my way. And thank you." Foggy ended the call.

Karen and Marci were staring at him, wide-eyed. Karen spoke first. "Matt?"

Foggy nodded. "He turned up at the free clinic on 40th. They're taking him to the ER at Metro-General."

Karen stood up and grabbed her handbag. "Well, what are we waiting for?"

"Wait!" Marci exclaimed. "We can't just go rushing out of here. Poindexter is still out there, somewhere."

"But we have to go see Matt, make sure he's OK," Karen protested. "And, besides, Poindexter can't be watching us. He doesn't know about this place."

"As far as we know," Marci pointed out.

"So what are you saying?" Foggy asked.

"I'm not saying we don't go, but we have to be smart about it, Foggy Bear," Marci replied. "We can't simply walk out the front door. Is there some other way out of the building?"

"Hang on," Foggy said, and went out of the gym and into the hallway. When he came back, he said, "There's an areaway in back of the building, with a passage to the next street."

"OK, then," Marci said, standing up. "Let's go."

A half hour later, they walked into the Emergency Department at Metro-General. Insisting he could find Matt more quickly on his own, Foggy left Karen and Marci fuming in the waiting room. It didn't take him long to find Matt in a curtained-off treatment area. He never thought he'd be so relieved to see his friend in a hospital bed, dressed in a hospital gown, with an IV in his arm, looking decidedly unhappy. A short, gray-haired man wearing maroon scrubs was standing at his bedside. The hospital badge clipped to his scrubs identified him as "Grant Morris, M.D., Emergency Medicine."

Matt was the first to notice Foggy's arrival. A tentative smile replaced his scowl, and he started to sit up. When he did so, Morris turned around and saw Foggy. He asked, "Who are you?" at the same time that Foggy said, "Matt," and Matt said, "Foggy."

Morris turned toward Matt and asked, "Do you know this man, Mr. Murdock?'

Matt nodded. "Foggy, uh, Franklin Nelson, my law partner and my friend. Susie, the woman who recognized me at the clinic, told me."

"But do you remember him?" Morris asked.

"Yes, I remember him."

Foggy extended his hand, offering his business card. "I also have Matt's medical power of attorney," he said. Morris took the card and glanced at it, then put it in his pocket.

"Avocados," Matt said.

Foggy chuckled, as Morris looked at him, a puzzled expression on his face. "It's an inside joke," Foggy explained.

"Best damn avocados," Matt said. "It's the first thing I remembered." Shit, Foggy thought. He was actually tearing up. He blinked quickly, several times. Then Matt asked, "Karen?"

"She's safe, she's here at the hospital."

Matt nodded. "Good. Can I see her?"

"Not yet," Morris told him. "You need to rest. I'd like to keep your visitors to a minimum for the time being."

"So, how's he doing?" Foggy asked.

Morris didn't answer him immediately. Instead, he spoke to Matt. "Mr. Murdock?" he asked. Matt nodded and waved his hand as if to say "go ahead." Morris then turned to Foggy and said, "As I've already explained to Mr. Murdock, he has a probable concussion from a blow to the head." He gestured toward the lump on Matt's forehead. "He also has a deep laceration on his upper arm, which has become infected. Fortunately, the infection was discovered early. We're treating it with antibiotics. I've ordered a CT scan of the head as a precaution. Someone will be in soon to take him to Radiology."

"And his memory?" Foggy asked.

"His memory loss is probably temporary. He remembers you, and this Karen he mentioned, so that's a good sign. In most cases, the patient's memory returns completely, with the possible exception of the events around the time of the injury."

Foggy breathed a sigh of relief.

"OK," Morris said, turning toward Matt. "We'll let you rest now." He turned back to Foggy. "May I speak with you outside, Mr. Nelson?"

Wondering what the doctor didn't want to say in front of Matt, Foggy followed Morris out of the treatment area and down the corridor. He decided not to mention that Matt would be able to hear every word.

Keeping his voice down, the physician said, "When Mr. Murdock was brought in, we had to cut off his clothes. When we removed his shirt, I noticed a lot of old injuries and scars, and some newer ones, too. He couldn't – or wouldn't – tell us how he got them. What can you tell me about them?"

"Nothing."

Morris regarded him in disbelief. "Nothing? I thought he was your law partner and your friend. He is a friend, right?"

"Yes, he's my friend," Foggy agreed.

"And you're telling me you don't know how he got cut up like that?"

"What I'm telling you is that, if I know anything about it, and I'm not saying I do, that information is privileged." Foggy knew perfectly well there was no privilege that applied, but he was betting the doctor didn't know that. Explaining Matt's injuries would just lead to questions he couldn't answer.

Morris gave Foggy a sharp look, then asked, "Was it you, Mr. Nelson? Are you the one who injured him?"

"What?" Foggy asked, shocked. "God, no. Why would you even think that?"

"Think about how it looks. Your friend and law partner, a disabled man, comes in with multiple, unexplained old injuries – "

Foggy didn't let him finish. "'Disabled'?" Foggy scoffed. "I can think of a lot of words to describe Matt Murdock. 'Disabled' isn't one of them. Trust me, he can handle himself."

"Those scars tell a different story," Morris pointed out. "And some of them look like knife wounds, which I'm legally required to report to law enforcement. Surely you know that."

"I do. But you don't have to report them. I will." Foggy pulled out his phone and called Brett Mahoney.

Fifteen minutes later, Brett arrived, followed by Karen and Marci. "You left them," he demanded incredulously, "in the waiting room? With Poindexter in the wind?"

"Poindexter never knew about Fogwell's," Foggy protested. "There's no way he could know we're here. Besides, I'd like to see you try to tell Karen she couldn't come with us."

"OK, OK," Brett said unhappily. "So now, what, you want me to tell the doctor you're not beating up on Da– , I mean, Matt?"

"Gimme a break," Foggy muttered, then added, "Yeah, something like that."

Brett walked away to find Morris. When he returned a few minutes later, he said, "OK, I squared things with the doc. You are no longer a suspect."

"Thanks, Brett."

After Matt's CT scan, he was moved to a fifth-floor patient room, where he would stay overnight for observation. The neurologist who took over his case said he could have visitors, but only one at a time.

Foggy tapped on the door frame. "OK if I come in?"

Matt waved his hand. "Sure. Now that the doc doesn't suspect you of beating up on me." He grinned.

"Thanks to Brett." Foggy shook his head. "Unbelievable." He pulled up a chair next to the bed and sat down. "How's your memory?"

"Getting there. I still don't remember what happened when I – " He gestured toward his forehead. "But a lot has come back. I think."

"Even . . ." Foggy lowered his voice to a whisper only Matt could hear. "Daredevil?"

"Yeah. That, too."

"Damn. I was kind of hoping you wouldn't remember him."

"Sorry about that," Matt said dryly.

"So is it true you were hanging out with a bunch of teenage hookers the whole time?'

Matt chuckled. "It wasn't like that. Actually, the one who found me in the alley is a pickpocket, a really good one." He smiled sheepishly. "I helped her. I told her where the marks' wallets were."

"Oh, great. Showing off and aiding and abetting a juvenile criminal," Foggy said. "And we all thought you were out there doing your thing, going after Poindexter – " He stopped when he saw the alarmed expression on Matt's face.

"Poindexter?"

Shit. Matt didn't know. "He escaped. We thought you knew."

"No, I didn't. Why didn't you tell me?"

"We thought you knew," Foggy repeated.

Matt sat up and swivelled around to sit on the edge of the bed. "Goddamnit. Karen. Where's Karen? I have to – " He started to stand up.

Foggy cut him off. "Matt. Stop. I told you before, Karen's safe, she's here in the hospital. Brett Mahoney's with her. And you don't have to do anything except get back in that bed and get better."

"But he's dangerous, a killer. You don't know – "

"Actually, I do," Foggy interrupted angrily. "I was there, at the Bulletin. Remember?"

"Oh, right. But he must've been watching you, or Karen. He could have followed you here."

"He didn't. All of us – Karen, Marci, and I – we've been holed up at Fogwell's for the last couple of days. There's no way he could know we were there."

Matt seemed to relax, just a little. He sat back down on the side of the bed. "Can I see her? Karen?" he asked.

"Sure, buddy. Just sit tight, and I'll send her in." Matt swung his legs back onto the bed and lowered his head onto the pillow.

Matt

A few minutes later, Matt sat up straight. A woman was approaching his room. Her footsteps, her scent and her heartbeat were familiar. Karen.

The door opened, and she entered the room. As she walked toward him, she said, "Hey, Matt."

"Hey, Karen," he replied with a smile.

"You know me?"

"I do."

"Thank God," she said. "So your memory's really back?"

Matt pressed his lips together. "A lot of it," he said, "but there are still some gaps. The doctors say it should all come back, in time. But, you know, I think there's something you could do to help."

"What's that?"

He held out his hand. "Come here."

She came closer and took his hand. He patted the bed with his other hand, and she sat on the edge, next to him. Then he pulled her toward him, cupped her chin in his hand, and kissed her lightly. If this really is my life, he thought, I could get used to this. Aloud, he said, "You know, I think that helped my memory. Could we try it again?" Obligingly, she leaned in and kissed him. This time, it was more than a mere touching of the lips. He kissed her back, with feeling. When she finally pulled away, he said, "That definitely helped. We need to keep doing this." He grinned.

"You!" she exclaimed with a laugh. He settled back on the pillow, still holding her hand. With her free hand, she caressed his cheek. Then she took a deep breath and said, "I owe you an apology, Matt."

He doubted it. "For what?"

"When we couldn't find you, and you weren't answering your phones, I was so angry. I thought you were doing it again – going off on your own after Poindexter, shutting us out. But you weren't. And then to find out that you were injured, you didn't even know who you were. God, I was such a bitch." She let go of his hand and took a few steps away from the bed.

Matt pulled himself up to a sitting position. "You weren't wrong, Karen. If I hadn't been injured, if I knew Poindexter was out, I probably would've done . . . what you were thinking."

"But you didn't."

"Not this time, maybe. But I can't promise you I won't, next time."

"I know."

"All I want is to keep you safe."

"A little late for that," she muttered. Then she raised her voice and said firmly, "You can't. Not as long as you keep doing what you do. And I know you're not going to stop."

"You didn't sign up for that."

"Actually, I did. I know who you are and what you do, and I chose to make you a part of my life. I could've turned my back and walked away. I almost did, a couple of times. But I didn't. That was my decision. You need to – "

She stopped talking. Matt was no longer listening to her. He was leaning forward, his head inclined toward the door. "What do you hear?" she asked.

"Someone's coming."

He listened again and heard a creepy sing-song: "Ka-ren."

"Shit, it's Poindexter." He turned toward her and ordered, "Go, hide in the bathroom and barricade the door."

"But, Matt – "

"Do it. Now."

He heard Karen dragging a chair across the floor, then the click of the lock on the bathroom door. He disconnected his IV, then stood up. Barefoot and wearing only a flimsy hospital gown, he didn't like his odds in a fight with Poindexter. At least Poindexter didn't have the Daredevil suit this time. He told himself he only had to keep Poindexter occupied, and away from Karen, long enough for help to arrive. Brett Mahoney was nearby; he'd heard him talking to Foggy earlier. Surely Brett would come running when he realized what was happening. He squared his shoulders and prepared himself to fight as he listened to Poindexter's footsteps come closer.

Dex

Earlier that day, Dex was watching the 15th Precinct from a stolen SUV, parked down the block. He wasn't particularly worried about the vehicle being spotted. The night before, he'd found a similar SUV in a long-term parking lot at La Guardia and swapped license plates. The ticket on the parked vehicle's dashboard showed it had entered the lot only the day before. Dex figured he had a least a couple of days before the swap was noticed. It was the long-term parking lot, after all.

Around mid-morning, Mahoney emerged from the building and climbed into an unmarked car. Dex waited until he was a half block ahead, then followed. Traffic was heavy enough that he wasn't overly concerned about being noticed. A few minutes later, Mahoney pulled into the ER parking lot at Metro-General. Dex drove past and parked the SUV at a fire hydrant. He didn't expect to need it again. He walked back to the hospital and entered the ER waiting room just in time to see Mahoney leaving with Karen and another blonde woman.

Shit. He needed a way to get into the treatment area without being challenged. It didn't take him long to come up with the answer. He took the elevator to the third floor, where he got lucky. In a side corridor, he found a linen cart with an assortment of scrubs. He grabbed a set, along with a cap and a surgical mask, and ducked into a nearby men's room to change. He then made his way to the nurses' station. Behind it was an empty break room. Someone's lab coat was hanging over the back of the chair. He put it on and left. He found a vacant patient room and ducked inside. There he unclipped the ID badge and turned it around so that the name and photo were facing in. He clipped the badge to the lapel of the coat, positioning it to cover the embroidered name over the pocket.

When he returned to the ER, he entered the treatment area without being questioned. Mahoney was talking to a doctor in the hallway. Karen and the blonde were sitting across from the nurses' station. He was tempted to take out Karen right then, but there were too many people who could get in his way. He didn't care if he killed them, but he didn't want to draw attention to himself before he could get to her. While he was considering his options, the curtain around a patient was pulled aside, and several orderlies appeared, pushing a bed with a patient in it. Nelson, the pissant lawyer who had schemed with Mahoney to hijack Karen when he almost had her at the church, was walking beside the bed. Karen and the blonde stood up and followed him, along with Mahoney. He let them go. After a few minutes, he asked an aide where the patient had been taken, and she told him the patient was going to Radiology, then to the fifth floor. Dex thanked her and headed for the elevator.

Once on the fifth floor, Dex found a vacant room with a view of the elevators. He had to wait more than an hour, but the patient finally arrived. Nelson, Karen, the blonde, and Mahoney were still with him. The two women and the cop took seats in a waiting area, while Nelson followed the patient to a room down the hall. After a while, Nelson emerged from the room and went over to Karen. He heard Nelson say, "He wants to see you." Karen rose and went into the room. This was the chance he'd been waiting for.

Dex waited a few minutes before emerging from the concealment of the vacant room. Whispering, "Ka-ren," he walked down the hall. As he passed Nelson, the blonde, and the cop, he coughed, lifting the mask to cover the cough. When he was sure none of them was looking in his direction, he opened the door to the room he'd seen Karen enter, and he slipped inside. The only person in the room was a dark-haired man in a hospital gown, standing next to the bed. There was something odd about him. He didn't look at Dex when he opened the door. He didn't seem to be looking at anything. Instead, he inclined his head in Dex's direction. Dex realized the man was blind. He must be Murdock, Nelson's law partner. Dex looked at the blind lawyer again. He felt a jolt of recognition. That mannerism – the tilting of the head – was familiar. So was the lower half of his face. Then he noticed the knot on Murdock's forehead, surrounded by a purple bruise, exactly where the brick had struck Daredevil when they fought in the alley. And the bandage on Murdock's upper arm was right where the chunk of concrete had hit Daredevil. It was impossible, but the blind lawyer was Daredevil. His thoughts swirled chaotically. When the noise in his head quieted a little, he recognized the opportunity that had fallen into his lap. He'd just been given a twofer. He could take out both Daredevil and Karen Page at the same time.

Dex smiled and reached into his pocket for the hard rubber ball he'd brought with him. He hurled it at Murdock, who dodged it and pushed the over-the-bed table at him. Dex sidestepped the table. Murdock followed the table and came in close, pummeling Dex with his fists. Dex grabbed Murdock's right arm and twisted it behind his back. Murdock jabbed backward with his left elbow, hitting Dex in the middle of the chest and taking his breath away for a second. That was long enough to allow Murdock to escape his grasp. As Murdock twisted away, Dex picked up a plastic basin that was sitting on the bedside chest and threw it. It hit Murdock on the left shoulder, but Dex hadn't thrown it with enough force to do any real damage. Murdock put his head down, yelled, and charged. He landed an uppercut to Dex's jaw and several punches to his midsection, before Dex counterpunched, landing a succession of hits on Murdock's torso. Dex then grabbed Murdock's forearms, and the two men grappled. Dex pushed Murdock back toward the bed. Suddenly, Murdock's feet slipped out from under him, and he went down hard. He had slipped in a puddle of fluid that had dripped from his disconnected IV. Dex grabbed the IV stand and raised it, preparing to deliver a killing blow.

Karen

As soon as Karen locked the bathroom door and jammed the chair up against it, she reached into her handbag and pulled out her gun. She flipped the safety to the "off" position and chambered a round. Her anxiety ratcheted up as she listened to the fight between Matt and Poindexter. Finally, it became unbearable. She pushed the chair out of the way and opened the door a crack. Matt would probably be aware of what she was doing, but she guessed Poindexter would be too obsessed with taking out Matt to notice her. In fact, she was counting on it.

When she looked out through the crack in the door, she was horrified to see Matt lying on the floor next to the bed, while Poindexter, with his back to her, was holding the IV stand, poised to strike. Then he started to turn his head in her direction. Shit. He'd heard the click when she unlocked the door. She didn't hesitate. She fired two rounds in quick succession. Both found their target, hitting Poindexter in the middle of his back. He fell forward, across Matt's body, and lay still. Karen gasped and covered her mouth with one hand. She sank to her knees and let the gun fall to the floor. Then she ran to Matt and knelt next to him, cradling him in her arms. Brett burst into the room, his gun drawn, followed by three hospital security guards.

Epilogue

Matt was discharged from the hospital the following day. He had not sustained any serious injuries in the fight with Poindexter in his hospital room. His memory returned almost completely within a few days, although it was a couple of weeks before he regained full recall of his fight with Poindexter in the alley.

Dex was not so fortunate. The two bullets in his back had effectively reversed the experimental surgery he had undergone months before. Further surgery might, or might not, restore enough function to allow him to walk again. Eventually, he would have to stand trial for his escape and the assault on Matt, but for the time being, he was spending his days and nights under guard in the prison ward at Metro-General – and waiting for the right moment to reveal Daredevil's identity.

No charges were filed in the shooting of Poindexter. Karen and Matt both gave statements that minimized Matt's role in the fight and avoided inconvenient questions about his fighting abilities. The DA ruled the shooting was justified, finding Karen had acted to defend Matt, and closed the case.

Matt left the hospital under strict instructions to rest at home for five days. After two days, he blew off the doctor's orders and went looking for Maddie and her crew. At the building where he had stayed with them, demolition had begun, and there was no trace of them. Over the next several weeks, whenever he went out as Daredevil, he scanned the sounds of the Kitchen, hoping to hear Lisa's voice, or Krissie's, or Justin's, emerging from the background noise. He heard many voices, but not theirs. When he walked along the sidewalks during the day, he was alert for any sign of Maddie, plying her trade as an expert pickpocket. If she was still lifting wallets, she wasn't doing it in Hell's Kitchen. Brett had no reports of any sightings of her or the rest of the crew. The information Matt had on the teenagers – first names only, no last names, and no physical descriptions other than his impressions of their ages and sizes – was so skimpy that even Karen couldn't trace them. Finally he had to admit failure. Maddie and her crew were gone.

Author's Note: Since we don't really know the properties of the substance used in Dex's surgery at the end of season 3 (except that it wasn't "Adamantium"), I've decided it didn't make his spine bulletproof. I may be proved wrong if we're fortunate enough to have future seasons. I can live with that.