Hearing aids aren't a complete fix. That's something Clint's known for a decent portion of his life. Despite Tony's best efforts to make better and better devices, Clint knows nothing will ever bring back his full range of hearing. And he's fine with that. Really. Which is why he relies on a combination of lipreading and context clues for most everyday conversations. The aids pick up most words, but a lot of background noise too. Words that have similar shaped movements are the worst. Luckily, in the field, his ear pieces are clearer. Instead of amplifiers picking up every ambient noise the pieces direct the vibrations through bones in his ears. Some about stapes, malleus, incus. One of the SHIELD doctors explained it to him once, but he wasn't listening. Or even making any effort to hear what she was saying.

All of this is to say that when Clint fell from a building, even if he hadn't lost his hearing aids somewhere in the dumpster, he probably wouldn't have been able to understand the red suited man in front of him. Especially while his vision was still straightening out and he couldn't tell if the man was actually wearing all red or if it was just weird lighting.

"Shit, man. Can you chill for a second? You're talkin to fast," Clint slurred. "Do you know any ASL?" Clint wasn't sure how much it would help if his sight didn't clear up soon.

The red man came into focus. The first thing Clint noticed, besides the man fervently shaking his head no while trying to sound something out slowly, was the stupid looking red horns.

"Oh shit! You're Daredevil!"

Daredevil paused, then nodded slowly.

"How'd I end up in Hell's Kitchen?"

Daredevil tried to say something again by dragging out his speech and annunciating his lip movements.

Clint sat up in the dumpster. "Stop that. Slowing it down just makes it look weirder. Talk normally, just not too fast."

Daredevil nodded, then tried again. Clint caught a 'chay', 'by', and the.

"Chased by thugs?"

Daredevil nodded and mouthed another word.

"Mafia? Oh! I was trying to avoid the tracksuit mafia and I ended up here." Lipreading alone was hard. There's too much guessing. "What are you doing in the dumpster anyways?"

Daredevil gave a vague gesture.

"Alright don't tell me then. Could you at least help me find my hearing aids?"

Daredevil tilted his head, like he was trying to listen hard for something.

Clint took that to mean he didn't know what he was looking for. "They're pretty small. They have an external loop that looks kinda like a j. They're purple."

Without looking, Daredevil stuck his hand into a pile of unidentifiable junk and immediately fished out one of two purple hearing aids.

Clint gaped like a dead fish. Dumbstruck, he slowly grabbed the offered aid, like Daredevil would take it away if he came at him too fast.

"Alright, I finished adjusting it. I should be able to hear you better now."

Daredevil wasted no time in getting back to business. "Why did you bring the tracksuit mafia to Hell's Kitchen?" the man growled. In Clint's opinion, he played up the whole Devil act a bit too much. Or maybe he was some sort of Devil. It wouldn't be the weirdest thing he's seen.

"Well, I was on my way to grab some pizza," Clint began, "I saw someone getting mugged so I stepped in, but I didn't have my arrows because why would I bring a bow and arrow to grab pizza, but by the time I reached them the mugger had already decided to take off, so I went after him to try to get the lady's stuff, punched him, he dropped a bracelet, I picked it up, she disappeared, then a whole lot of other people came out of nowhere, so I started running to try and lose them, lost a hearing aid somewhere, and ended up in this dumpster."

Daredevil did not look amused. While the mask hid most of his expressions, his lips were turned down into a scowl, he was in a ready to fight stance, and Clint could imagine behind the mask he was glaring at him.

"I didn't even know they were the tracksuit mafia until you told me," Clint said. "They weren't wearing their tracksuits. How could you tell? I know you have a thing against the Russians from the Fisk fiasco."

Daredevil ignored his question. "Stay out of my city. Don't bring the tracksuit mafia back, or else." Daredevil nearly ran up the wall, leaping from crevice to crevice.

"See you around!" Clint waved.

"No I won't."

Despite the dark, Clint could've swore he saw Daredevil smirk.

Hey y'all, back at it again at Krispy KremeTM. I found this in my docs and decided to continue writing it! I have the first part written, it will be about 3 parts. For all of you who have been here since the beginning, thanks for reading! I started this account in middle school, and it's been a long time since then and my writing has improved by a lot. I'm a real life adult now! I'm writing an actual, original book! I'd like to thank for allowing me to practice writing, and my loyal fans for encouraging me to keep going.

See you next week.