9. Not a team
They were standing nearby a corpse. A headless corpse. Four of five people were still taking the fact in, pretty reluctant to do so. A dead man. Decapitated.
Christ.
"You okay?" Luke asked Jessica softly, his gaze flickering to the body once again. His stomach rolled over at the sight and he quickly looked away.
"Yeah, I mean... my head's still attached," Jessica replied wryly, sighing.
"You didn't have to kill him," Matt stated, somewhere between disappointed, angry and resigned.
"Eh, it was him or the kid."
"They could've stopped him," Danny protested, turning to Stick as well. It hadn't felt good to have a blade on his throat, but Sowande had been one of the fingers of the Hand, he had had information they needed and… killing.
"Couldn't take the chance, especially now."
Luke looked at Stick, bewildered. "What do you mean, 'especially now'?"
"We got our answer. He's what they've been after all along."
"Yeah, well, we knew that."
Stick scoffed at the big kid's stupidity. "We didn't know the Iron Fist was the key to what the Hand seeks. The word isn't accidental."
"You think he's a key? To what, their survival?" Matt wondered, not following either. Stick just mentally sighed. They're all idiots.
"A key implies a lock."
"I assumed it was a metaphor," Jessica noted in her done-with-this-shit tone.
"It's not."
"So you literally think Danny opens something?" Luke asked, surprised.
Stick gestured to the corpse on the floor to anyone's delight. "And that 'something' is worth dying for."
"I'm a weapon. I'm not a key," Danny protested, squirming uncomfortably.
"That you know of."
"What could I possibly open?"
"You tell me. Must be why they haven't killed you," Stick scoffed.
"They haven't killed me because they want me on their side."
"The Iron Fist's chi is a weapon. That's true," Stick confirmed, nodding, looking almost wise. "But I've heard stories about it being used for more. To seal things shut. Or opening them again."
"So the Hand is in New York because he gives them access or opens something up?" Luke asked in disbelief. They had officially stepped into Crazy Town.
Danny raised his hands in a defensive gesture, chuckling. "Come on, guys. That's insane."
Matt's sad gaze was aimed at his general direction, corners on his mouth down. "Well, it doesn't matter if you think it's true or not. It's something they believe is true."
"He was a member of the Hand. An organization formed by lying psychopaths. You can't trust a word he said."
"I understand that, Danny, but the way I see it, we only have one move."
Danny took a step back, not quite realizing he was shortening the distance between himself and the person who would be most willing to kill him if necessary. Which now seemed like an option, apparently, but that was crazy, they wouldn't right? Matt wouldn't let them and neither Luke nor Jessica seemed to be fans of killing.
"Whoa. What do you mean?"
"To keep the Iron Fist as far from them as possible," Stick explained, his tone adding 'at all costs'.
Luke nodded. "It sounds crazy, but I don't think we have any other way."
"I dedicated my life to this fight! You need me! We all need each other." He eyed each of them, including Stick and Matt – though he was sure it had no effect on them. But he was getting desperate. "This is exactly how they work. They divide us. They get into our heads. They weaken us. They make you question the people you trust."
"Danny, just take a deep breath and calm down…"
"Stop telling me to calm down, Luke! This is what they want! They want you to be distracted. They want you to turn on me!"
Matt took a step closer to him, face calm, soft. "Sowande wasn't lying."
"And how do you know? Because of his heartbeat? It's the Hand. You know how they can operate," Danny objected, hoping to find an understanding with Matt. Matt had fought the Hand. He knew them. They had fought them together before.
"And now we know what they need. It's you, kid."
"Stick, you're falling for their trap!" he snapped at the old man before turning back to Matt. "And really, Matt? Listening to him now? After what he had done-"
The relatively soft expression disappeared from Matt's face, a subtle warning not to go where Danny was going with that note. "Don't."
"If Alexandra gets a hold of you, the war's lost. I can't allow that," Stick exclaimed, raising his katana meaningfully.
"Listen, Stick, maybe we should just... uh, let him lay low, or just... Maybe we should just hide him."
Luke did not like where this was heading. At all. A man had already died today, they didn't need another. Plus, Danny was not even a bad guy. Just a little stubborn.
"We're running out of time! They're hunting our friends, our families, and they're not gonna stop there. You heard what he said. This ends with New York in ruins. They want me on the side-lines 'cause I'm the only one who can destroy them. …Jess?"
The only woman in the group eyed the kid. Between all of them, he really was a kid, she thought; eager and riot, not seeing he was wrong. Jessica might not like it, but the others were right. She wanted to have shit to do with all this, she would be happy to be the one not involving, but she could understand that what they were proposing was the best solution.
"How do you suggest we hide him?"
"Fine! I'll go back to doing this without you if I have to. I've already lost one city. I'm not losing another," Danny spit out, walking away. Matt stepped in his way.
"Me neither."
Danny looked at him, betrayed. Of all people, he had expected Matt to be on his side. Or at least not being against him. "Really? You're gonna try and keep me here against my will?
"I hear what you're saying, Danny, but... no one loves this city more than I do and that's why you can't leave this room. Trust me, I'm not doing this because I trust him – but because it's the only thing we can do."
"Whatever," Danny hummed, pushing past his friend's (former friend?) figure. Matt moved as well. "You sure you want to do this?"
"No, I don't want to, Danny, I really don't. But if I have to…"
"Same way you had to keep your ex-girlfriend secret?" Danny snapped back, knowing he hit a spot.
Matt grimaced. He had made a mistake when keeping the fact he and Elektra had met before. But it all seemed to be cleared out now; while they hadn't been very happy about him keeping it secret and endangering them because of his attempts to reason with Elektra, they had accepted the explanation, aware they had more pressing issues. Danny. And well, there was the thing that the whole Hand was after them.
"We're past that."
"No, we're not," Danny disagreed, feeling he got on the right track. The best defence right now was an attack. Matt would match him in a fist fight. He had to aim lower. "Speaking of girlfriends – do you really want to see Vera impaled on a katana again? By the Hand for a change?"
"Don't. Don't bring her into this," Matt warned him, his stance changing. And with each word, his expression was shifting as well.
"Why not? Sometimes it's like she's the only thing that makes you see clearly. If you bench me, that's what's gonna happen; the city will die and she'll die with it. They'll probably enjoy killing her personally. And you're just gonna stand there and watch it happen, just like the last time."
Matt looked like he had just got punched to his solar plexus; by the Iron Fist's fist; and his true emotions were boiling inside, ready to blow up.
"Danny, stop it," Luke stepped in, sensing the air in the room getting thicker and thicker. "We're all on the same side here. We all want the same thing."
"It doesn't feel like it. Not anymore."
Jessica picked up on the atmosphere getting into a dangerous zone as well. Taking a step closer to Danny was a reflex. "Don't do this."
"Hey, you guys seriously need to back off."
"It's okay," Matt soothed him, even when his face was nothing but wounded. He placed a hesitant hand on the Iron's Fist shoulder. "I know you didn't mean it and I know you hate this. But we can't let them have you. You just stay here. We can keep you safe, all right? You just need to calm down."
"Like you kept Vera safe? I don't think so." Matt's hand fell off as if he got burned. "And then there's another thing, Matt. I'm all out of calm."
Later, three of five people wondered if Matt had let Danny punch him, because for some fucked up reason, he had believed he had deserved it.
Their fight was a quick exchange of fist and sole and knees meetings. It almost looked like a dance; they were coordinated. Too coordinated. Matt and Danny knew each other too well; they fought alongside each other, they trained together sometimes. They could predict the other one's moves too easily and Danny was the first one to be tired of their game, mostly because Matt picked up on Danny's tactics better, earning himself an upper hand.
"Don't make me use this," Danny grunted, lighting up his fist. Matt might not see the light, but he could feel the energy crackling in the air. He continued the fight anyway and Danny wasn't reluctant to use all he had.
They all ended up on the floor due to the shock wave cause by Danny's fist, their ears ringing, blurry vision and feeling like having one of the worst hangovers of their lives.
Except… Jessica was used to being hangover. She was the one who ended the fight; Rand wasn't the only one with extraordinary strength.
"Sorry about this."
Matt was honestly glad they had no time to muse on their actions; the last thing Matt had even seen himself doing was helping Stick to tie Danny down. Every time Matt had thought the world couldn't get more insane, something else had happened, convincing him of the opposite. They had lost a valuable source of information, they had imprisoned their own and on top of that, they were practically back to square one.
"We need to figure out what he's… the key to," Jessica mumbled, not fond of the theory they had. Really? An ancient force, inherited generation after generation… that had been enough. Now there was a key too?
"Their headquarters is Midland Circle," Stick announced as if it was some kind of a ground-breaking information.
"Yeah, we knew that," Luke noted, unimpressed.
"Clock is ticking."
"So if we need more answers, going back to Midland Circle is the only play."
Jessica looked at Luke, questioning his sanity. "We barely made it out last time and they're gonna be waiting for us."
"Yeah, she's right," Matt supported her unnecessarily.
"So how do we find whatever he opens?"
"The architect?" Jessica offered, throwing her hands in the air, whatever. It wasn't like they had too many options. "My client's husband. The one his ex-girlfriend tried to kill. He designed the place."
"What, you think he knew how Danny ties into this?"
"It's worth a shot," she hummed in Matt's direction, silently encouraging him to come up with a better idea. He didn't have any. Yeah, that was what she had thought.
"Well, I guess you two better get going," Luke stated, his gaze flickering between Jessica and Matt.
Jessica sighed while Matt just seemed puzzled. "What about you?"
"Somebody's gotta stay and watch him."
It didn't take a genius to figure out which one of them was the right candidate. Matt's presence would hardly help, since his betrayal was the wickedest in Danny's eyes. And Jessica's attitude to this whole mysterious world including the Iron Fist wouldn't be the best choice either.
"Preferably somebody who can take a punch," Luke explained further and neither Jessica nor Matt could argue with that.
They stopped at Matt's – and Vera's – apartment on their way; after all, Matt needed a change of clothes. He took the rooftop route, surprised Jessica joined him and didn't use sidewalks like normal people would.
She paced through the apartment, not so inconspicuously looking around.
"So you wanna tell me how a pro bono lawyer can afford a loft like this in New York City? I imagine a barista's pay isn't helping much."
A smile appeared on Matt's lips for a fraction of second. No matter how crazy the past few hours had been, there had been lighter moments too; Vera was safe now. Sparing a little time remembering that and remembering her was a welcomed distraction. He appreciated Jessica's attempt on conversation – and clearly, she knew which topic to pick.
"It does help," he protested, tightening his tie. "But I could have afforded it before; you can't tell now, but there's a neon billboard across the street. Keeps most people up at night... not me."
"Got it."
"Plus, I occasionally help the landlord out. Not proud of it, but I put on the suit and rough up people late on rent."
Jessica shot him a dubious look he couldn't see. She would think the lawyer was joking, but… "I hope that's a joke."
She cursed mentally when she called his chuckle that followed 'cute' in her mind. Jeez, he was not cute. But goddamn, even with the ridiculous costume of his in his hands, he looked like a happy puppy; he had lighted up at the mention of his fiancée. Jessica felt a tiny stung of jealousy.
"And she doesn't mind?"
"Which part?"
Jessica beckoned to the billboard. If she was asking something else, they might get too deep into feelings, which, no, thanks.
"She handles. I think waiting for me is worse for her sleeping habits," Matt added, grimacing.
"Huh. I told her not to get all house-wife just because you put a ring on her finger. "
"Really? Is that how you phrased it?"
"More or less," the PI exclaimed with a smirk, pretty sure she had used the word 'fuck' at least once when delivering the advice to her.
"It's… it's not like that. She has a life. When she's… when she's not forced to stay on a precinct because of some senseless war."
Jessica raised her hands in a defensive gesture. TMI. And TMF. Too much information and too many feelings. Stop it right there.
"Dude. It's none of my business. For all I care she can be a house-wife. I'm just saying that I wouldn't do that. And that you better appreciate what she's doing."
"I do. Believe me, I do."
"You ready?" she hummed as he closed the trunk. Matt put his glasses on, a different kind of mask he was using. Jessica almost winced at the change; the openness of his face without the glasses was in a stark contrast to this. It was probably a good thing he wore those.
"Yeah."
"Let's go."
Matt found blueprints of Midland Circle in a piano. He couldn't quite believe that statement, but then again, he had troubles believing anything these days. Today was just getting more surreal with each minute.
Just before approaching the piano, Jessica Jones had used Matt's father as a parallel to the story of the architect when trying to approach Lexi – the architect's daughter – in attempt to make her talk more.
Matt had honestly no idea if he was more shocked at the fact Jessica had done some background checking, had told the story in front of Lexi as if he hadn't been sitting right next to them or at the way she had spoken; surprisingly soft and empathic, while never quite leaving her whatever attitude.
But, the point was, they had found a clue. There was a hole under Midland Circle. Like forty stories deep hole and there was something huge at the bottom.
They were on the way to tell the others, when he finally gathered enough courage to ask, lump in his throat. It had touched him more than he was comfortable admitting.
"Jessica? How'd you know?"
"About what?" she hummed, pretending she didn't know what he was talking about.
Matt didn't know who she was trying to fool. He sighed. "About my dad."
"A crime-fighting blind lawyer; I figured there's gotta be a good story there."
"Or a shitty one," he offered, grateful for her not making a big deal of it, despite no doubt knowing how much it had affected him she had talked about that; that she knew in the first place and that she had made the opinion she had about it.
"You took my case, I took yours," she replied, shrugging. "I just think we'll work better together if we trust each other. Don't you?"
"Yeah, sure." Matt suppressed a wide smile. Jessica Jones was being nice to him; would the wonders ever cease? For once, Matt was surprised pleasantly. "How did I earn you being nice to me all day?"
Matt regretted asking the question as soon as it left his mouth, expecting a defensive answer. But Jessica Jones lived to surprise.
"Look… Rand was wrong, saying what he did. If he reminded me that someone I cared about almost died on my watch, I would be the one throwing the first punch. He knows you, knows how to push your buttons. It wasn't fair. I figured you could use something less backstabbing. Don't get used to it."
He winced at the mention of the fight, before a warm feeling spread in his chest at the gesture. She wasn't lying.
'Thank you,' he wanted to whisper, letting the amount of gratitude he felt soak through the words. But this was a special kind of person he was having a conversation with. She needed a special treatment.
"Too late for that. Jessica Jones is labelled 'nice' now," he said instead, cheery, implying he had a blackmail material on her now.
"Hell no," she cursed, disgusted less than she should have been if she wanted to keep her reputation.
"That's not a bad thing."
"It is. Occasionally giving a shit is bad enough. I am not nice, Murdock."
"Says you."
"Christ…" she murmured, shoving her hands further to the pockets of her leather jacket. "Do not send me a wedding invitation," she warned him.
The corners of his lips twitched deliberately. "I won't."
"Good."
"You're gonna be Trish's plus one anyway."
Matt thought the PI resisted the urge to shove his shoulder, but he was sure she rolled her eyes at him at least.
He wouldn't admit it out loud and he was confident she wouldn't either, but… they made a good team. He was not about to say that, ever, he didn't long for being punched to his face by no one else but Jessica Jones herself. Still, it was the truth. He allowed himself to be a little bit optimistic.
Of course, that was a mistake.
The last thing he remembered before he blacked out – after lounging at Elektra who had impaled Stick – was the woman he had once loved saying his name.
"Matthew. It's good to see you."