Three days later and Matt was back in the basement of Avengers Tower (which Stark insisted on calling a sub-level because he thought it sounded cooler), only instead of wearing a suit and stumbling through mildly awkward introductions, he was in gym shorts and a t-shirt and sparring with the Avengers.
His current opponent was Steve. It was their third round, and Matt was starting to get the hang of it. He ducked under Steve's arm and popped up again, getting in two quick blows to the sternum before following with an uppercut. Steve stumbled backward, letting out a surprised laugh.
"You're good at this. I'm impressed," the super soldier said. He'd barely broken a sweat. "Where'd you learn to fight like that?"
Matt downed half a bottled water, then caught his breath for a second before answering. "Like that? My dad was a boxer. You, uh…you were still on the ice when he was...active. Anyway, I learned to box in the same gym where he trained."
"Pardon my saying so, but I'm pretty sure you didn't learn all of that in a gym."
Matt turned toward Steve with a small smile. "You're right about that. I also learned martial arts from a blind old son of a bitch. Plus a few years' experience fighting crime in the streets of Hell's Kitchen. Can I ask you a question?"
"Of course."
"What are you gonna do when you come up against someone as strong as you?"
Steve was silent for a moment, having clearly been caught off-guard. Then, "What do you mean?"
Matt felt his ears turn red, but he couldn't keep CaptainfuckingAmerica waiting, so he kept going. "Well, when we fought, you didn't-well, you kind of did a terrible job defending yourself. Which I think is partially because you rely on your shield and partially because you rely on your strength. I'm not strong enough to do much-any-damage, but what if one day someone is? Another super soldier, or an alien or something?"
"I know how to take a beating," Steve said, and there was something strangely rueful in his voice. He forced a laugh. "You're probably right, though. I'll work on that. Thanks." He took a sip from his water bottle and Matt could feel his gaze. "You wanna go another round?"
Matt shook his head. "Oh, absolutely not. I'm supposed to practice with Barton soon. If you, uh...if you need some pointers-" He cleared his throat, regretting his words immediately, but his mouth kept moving. "You know, on protecting yourself-" What the hell are you doing? "Not that you...need...I just mean-" Abortabortabort!
"That would be great," Steve interrupted, saving Matt from his floundering. "Tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow," Matt agreed right as the elevator dinged. "That's gotta be Barton. Any tips?"
Steve laughed, and it was real this time. "Well, he's stronger than you think. And, uh...don't let his talking distract you. Good luck."
"Thanks, Steve," Matt answered as Steve walked onto the elevator and Barton came bouncing out.
"Matt! Matty!" Barton called, clapping Matt on the shoulder.
"Just Matt is fine, Barton," Matt said.
Barton laughed. "And just Clint is fine! I need to go change real quick. Will that be enough recovery time from the captain?"
Matt smiled. "Yeah, that should do it."
Clint returned a minute later, eager and clearly rearing to go. "You know, I've been really looking forward to this. You're basically a blind ninja which is the coolest thing ever. Except I would feel kind of bad if I kicked a blind man's ass."
"You know, it wouldn't be the first time," Matt said, adopting a boxing stance-fists up, elbows in, strength centered in his core. "You ready?"
"Fire at will."
Matt threw a punch at Clint's chin, but the archer dodged out of the way and it was a glancing blow. He followed with some blows aimed at Clint's sternum, but again he dodged out of the way. Clint was faster than Steve, and it took a minute for Matt to adjust.
"You adapt quick," Clint said, sounding impressed. "It took me a long time to learn how to fight well. I prefer to be out of the thick of things. Just as well people don't know who it was that took 'em down. I have enough enemies as it is."
Matt furrowed his brow, ducking his head out of the way of a left hook. "You mean the Avengers have enough enemies as it is?"
Clint laughed. "I wish. No, I meant yours truly. I bought this apartment building in Brooklyn, pissed off a whole lot of Russians. And there's this clown that tried to kill me once. And of course there's the Circus of Crime."
Matt paused. "'The Circus of Crime?'" A blow directly to the ribs sent him stumbling back and Steve's words echoed in his mind. Don't let his talking distract you. That was proving more difficult than Matt expected.
"It's where I learned how to shoot and fight. It's also where I learned that I didn't want to be a criminal..."
Matt focused on Clint's voice for a moment, then pushed it back, letting it melt into the other sounds of the room until it was background noise. As they sparred, Matt found himself increasingly awed. He'd heard a lot about the Avenger's impressive aim with any weapon he could get his hands on, but his skill didn't stop there. Clint tended to keep some distance between himself and Matt, choosing to stay on the defensive, but when he did throw a punch it landed with impeccable aim-jaw, ribs, sternum. Matt quickly found himself winded, and Clint stopped with a laugh.
"I have literally no idea how you fight like that," he said, the admiration in his voice embarrassing Matt. "You're damn good. But if you're gonna last against Nat, you're gonna need to take a real break. And get some lunch. I heard Happy made it special today, so that should be good! I've got an errand to run so I won't be able to eat with you, but I'll get you to the kitchen."
"Thanks," Matt said, taking a swig from his water bottle. The Avengers were exhausting. "You're not too bad yourself, you know."
"You've got to tell Nat you said that. She won't believe me."
Matt laughed. He never could've predicted this, actually becoming friends with them.
Foggy was going to flip out.
xxx
Matt was eating a surprisingly delicious sandwich (turkey pesto) in the lounge where Stark had come up with the name Avengers when the elevator arrived with its pleasant ding and Clint walked out with someone Matt didn't recognize. Whoever she was, she was young and she was very fired up about something.
"Do you believe that? Honestly the gall of some people! Good shooting doesn't count as a superpower my ass! The little toad is lucky I didn't have any of my practice arrows on me or I would've shoved one right up his-oh!" She didn't finish the threat and Matt could tell she was embarrassed, her cheeks flushing. "Oh! Wow, hi, I'm sorry about that. It's just that there's this guy and-oh, you don't wanna hear about that! I'm Kate Bishop. Hawkeye. But you can call me Kate."
Matt raised an eyebrow. "Hawkeye?" he asked around a bite of sandwich. He was pretty sure he'd already met Hawkeye, and he wasn't a teenage girl.
"Yeah, I'm kind of Clint's...protégé. He's been helping me shoot and fight better so that when he gets too old or does something stupid and dies-"
"Hey!" Clint interrupted. "That is not why I took you on and you know it! You better watch it or I'll fire you."
Kate snorted. "You're not gonna fire me! I know where you live. I'll come over and steal your bow. And your dog."
"Nuh uh!" Then, to Matt, "This punk took my dog to California once, can you believe it?"
Kate huffed. "You're not still holding onto that, are you? I brought him back! Anyway, I didn't get your name, sorry. You're…?"
"Matt Murdock," Matt answered, and smiled when she gasped.
"Oh! Wow, Clint didn't tell me you were h-" She made an odd choking sound, then added lamely, "Here. He didn't tell me you were here."
"I did too," Clint said. Matt could tell which of them was telling the truth, and it wasn't the young newcomer.
"NO, you didn't! Ha! You and your terrible memory. So, Mr. Murdock!"
"Matt," Matt said.
"Matt. You're a lawyer, right?" Something mischievous had crept into Kate's voice. "Clint once told me that lawyers are the devil's way of reminding us that he exists."
Clint made a sound. "W-well, I mean-I didn't-"
"You're stammering," Kate said smugly.
Matt cleared his throat. "As amusing as it is listening to you two bicker, do you mind if I interrupt with a question?"
"Go for it!" Clint said at the same time Kate cried, "Of course!"
Matt pictured the two of them sticking their tongues out at each other.
"How old are you, Kate?" he asked before taking another bite of his sandwich.
"...Seventeen," Kate answered. "But I'm old enough! I mean, I've practically raised myself, since Daddy's always so busy. Plus I think I remind him of Mom and he doesn't like to think about her...Anyway, I'm also really good with a bow and arrow. Like, more than Barton would care to admit."
"And you're...an Avenger?" Matt asked, still trying to wrap his mind around the two Hawkeyes thing. Listening to their conversation hadn't helped much.
"In training," Kate said, a little bitterly. "Even though I've saved this jackass on more than one occasion. Although when Stark and Nat found out about that I nearly got Clint fired."
That was a story Matt wanted to hear eventually, but right now he still had questions. He was going to ask one when the elevator door opened, wafting out a cloud of cologne that could only mean Stark.
"Kate! JARVIS told me you were here! I trust you're not getting into too much trouble out there?"
"Who, me?"
Tony laughed. "I think you've been spending too much time with Barton. Speaking of Barton, Barton! I've drawn up the specs and a rough design on those net arrows you wanted. Wanna come check 'em out, see if it's what you're looking for?"
"Hell yeah!" Clint cried. "Hey, catcha later Matt. Good luck with Natasha. I'm warning you now, she won't go easy just 'cus you're the new guy and you're blind. She's freaky flexible and freaky fast and they don't call her the widow for nothing."
"Got it. Thanks, Clint."
"Nice to meet you, Matt," Kate said. "Sorry about us. I'd say we're not usually like that, but we are. I'll see you around!"
The three of them left, and suddenly the room was as quiet as it had been before. Matt finished the last few bites of his sandwich in silence wondering how the hell a teenager had managed to become an Avenger-in-training.
xxx
Natasha didn't talk when they sparred. She did little more than let out the occasional grunt/growl. It was in stark contrast to Clint, who apparently didn't have an off-switch. It was actually a little unsettling at first, but Matt adjusted quickly. Her fighting style took a little longer to adapt to He'd been mostly boxing all day, but now he found himself needing to draw from what he'd learned from Stick. And from fighting ninjas.
She was a lot smaller than Steve and Clint, but more than made up for it in speed, agility, and a relentlessness that hadn't been there with the other two. Matt found he actually appreciated the challenge (though he was grateful he knew how to take an ass kicking). He wasn't sure how long they'd been fighting when Nat finally stopped. Matt bent over with his hands on his knees, breathing heavily.
"Okay," she said as she caught he breath. "That's it; I'm calling it. Stark's upgrading my tasers and I'm supposed to test them." She started to walk away, but paused before the elevator. "You did good, Murdock."
xxx
"She actually said that? You did good, Murdock? You've known her for all of a day and she's already praised you more highly than anyone else on the team. You better not tell Tony. He'd never admit it but he tends to be the jealous type."
"Does he?" Matt responded, forgetting that with a boss like Stark there was no way his sarcasm could get by Happy. "Oh, you can let me off in the next alley."
"Do you even know where we are?" Happy asked, not rudely but with genuine concern and a hint of curiosity.
"Behind Remi's. They have the best pizza sauce in the state, but it smells like they're a little short on garlic."
"It smells like they-I won't pretend to have any idea what you're capable of. I guess here's your stop, Mr. Murdock. I'll pick you up tomorrow at nine."
"Thanks, Happy," Matt said, getting out of the car and unfolding his cane. "Tomorrow, then."
He shut the car door and waited for Happy to pull out before heading home. Every part of him ached and he was mildly exhausted, so the walk took a little longer than usual, but he couldn't keep a small smile from his face. There was something almost intoxicating about interacting with other people like him, who understood why he fought and what it meant to save a life.
xxx
They'd been training together for a week now, and Matt was getting to know the others pretty well. He knew that Steve claimed to be a stickler for the rules, but that didn't keep him from sneaking pickles out of Clint's sacred jar when no one was looking. He knew that Clint liked to be away from the fight whenever possible, and that despite this he would try and coax the Hulk out for a visit by setting little booby traps in Bruce's lab and then watching from a safe distance. He knew that Natasha didn't like eating in front of other people and that she sometimes sang to herself in Russian when she was in an elevator. And he knew that Stark drank too much and slept too little, despite his meticulously crafted image.
Bruce Banner was still largely a mystery.
Currently, the Avengers were relaxing in the lounge after sitting through an excruciatingly boring presentation about Tower security from Happy (which was only necessary after Clint decided to see if he could break in). Stark and Bruce were talking about something pertaining to artificial intelligence, Natasha was reading a book, and Clint was excitedly looking over his finished net arrows from Stark. Matt was sipping at a beer and about to ask Clint a question when Pepper burst in, heart pounding with excitement.
"He's here!" she announced, and Matt cocked his head in interest.
"Who's here?" Matt asked Clint, who didn't pause from scrutinizing his new arrows.
"Oh, you'll see," the archer replied, and Matt could hear the smirk in his voice. The smirk which wasn't there when he quickly added, "Well, not see. Uh." He cleared his throat, and Matt smiled.
"Don't worry about it. When Foggy and I were first room-" The word got caught in his throat as someone entered the room, an energy rolling off of the stranger that made the hair on the back of Matt's arms and neck stand on end. Whoever it was, something, no, everything about him was wrong. The way his heart beat hard and fast while the rest of him stayed calm, the way his footfall seemed to make gravity work just a little harder, the way his very being seemed to hum and vibrate, as if every atom wanted to take flight. Whoever the stranger was, he was powerful. It unsettled Matt.
"Matt!" Clint's voice cut through his thoughts, and he looked up sharply. Everyone in the room was silent, and he could feel their eyes on him.
"Yeah?"
"You okay? You suddenly just, like...I dunno, froze."
"Who the hell is that?" Matt asked, hoping that the panic hadn't crept into his voice.
"Thor, of Asgard!" the stranger cried happily, crossing the room. Matt could easily picture the goofy grin that was undoubtedly on the giant man's face.
"Asgard?" Matt repeated, shaking Thor's hand. As soon as their skin made contact, Matt could feel the strange energy pouring off of him. "I'm Matt Murdock. You're not human." The words jumped out of his mouth before he could stop them, and Clint choked while Tony let out an odd harumph. Thor just laughed, a full, hearty sound that eased Matt's frayed nerves somewhat.
"Stark has told me about you, the Daring Devil," Thor said loudly, taking a seat on the other side of Matt. "You see very well for a blind man. You remind me of Heimdall!" Thor clapped Matt's shoulder and almost knocked him off of the sofa.
"Uh, thank you," Matt said, unsure what else to say. He swallowed. "So, you're from...Asgard? That's…"
"It's on another dimensional plane," Tony interjected. "Or another realm, as he calls it. He's a demigod."
"He's a what?" Normally Matt would be embarrassed to be so behind everyone else in the room, but everyone else in the room was an Avenger, so he didn't feel bad.
"He's a superpowered alien," Clint said, rather unhelpfully. Then, more unhelpfully, "His power comes from his hammer."
Matt frowned. "From his…"
"Mjolnir," offered Thor, his chest puffed out, pride lacing the word. "Although I am very powerful even without Mjolnir."
"Mjolnir," Matt repeated, fairly certain as his tongue tripped over the unfamiliar word that he hadn't pronounced it correctly. "I'm sorry, I'm confused."
"He's a super-strong alien viking who has a magic hammer than he can beat people up with and also it can control lightning," Clint said.
Matt blinked, then took a long drink of his beer. "I'll just pretend all of that made sense."
"Don't worry about it," Steve offered kindly. "I was confused, too. I'm still confused about a lot of things, actually. Like the moon landing. And spray cheese! Who thought that was a good idea?"
"Spray cheese is the food of the gods," Clint said, sounded slightly offended.
Thor scoffed. "Actually, the food of the gods is sæhrímnir, and it is delicious. The best of meats! You humans have come close with your bacon, which is strange considering what a tiny beast it comes from."
"Can I ask what it is you're doing here?" Matt asked. He felt a spike of worry. "There's not another alien invasion coming is there?"
Thor laughed heartily at that. "No, Matthew. At least not that Heimdall or I are aware of."
"He's here to talk about science," Bruce called over from where he and Tony were. "There's a lot we don't understand about Thor and where he comes from and how he gets here and there's a lot we have that he doesn't get, so-"
"Basically we're gonna compare notes," Stark interjected. "Oh, and by the way, I scheduled a team exercise for this Thursday. All of you covert ops guys are gonna run a drill with one of the local SWAT teams."
"Yes!" Clint said beside Matt. "Team drills are the best. I get to have my bow and arrows-practice arrows, of course-and Cap has his shield...It's almost like the real deal except there's no buildings being destroyed or people dying...and I guess no aliens and no giant portal in the sky...Whatever, though, it's great."
Matt forced a smile. "Yeah, I'm looking forward to it." For some reason he was feeling nervous about the whole thing. He pushed the feeling away. Of course it would go great. Why wouldn't it?
xxx Thursday
Matt opened the door to his apartment and frowned.
"How was the team exercise?" someone asked eagerly.
"Foggy, how did you get in here?" Matt asked, shutting the door behind him and heading to the fridge for a well deserved beer. "And how did you know I'd be home now?"
"I put Find My Friends on your phone after all those explosions happened and we couldn't find you and I had a key made after that time I found you nearly dead. How was the team exercise?"
Matt trudged over to the couch and flopped down, bottle in hand, too miserable to care about Foggy's invasions of privacy. "They're like a well-oiled machine. And I'm like a wrench."
"That bad huh?"
Matt leaned his head back and groaned. "Oh, Foggy, it was terrible. I can hold my own in a fight with each of them, and we all get along great and they're amazing people and I like them, but there's no way in hell I'd ever be able to fight with them, as a team." He took a drink of his beer and sighed. He'd really enjoyed his short foray into the world of the Avengers, and he was actually really sad to be leaving all of that behind. But the truth of it was, he just wasn't one of them.
"What happened?" Foggy asked, his voice soft and irritatingly genuine.
Matt turned toward him. "Well, I broke one of Stark's fancy earpieces for one."
"You did not."
Matt smiled and took a sip of his beer. "I did."
"On accident, though."
Matt gave a slow shake of his head. "Nope. It was too loud, and distracting, and I couldn't handle it so I took it out...and stepped on it."
"Why the hell did you step on it?" Foggy cried.
"I don't know, I was just really fed up! Then I gave a SWAT guy a concussion and bruised another one's ribs. I didn't follow the plan, I didn't communicate with them and didn't let them communicate with me...I guess I'm just not much of a team player. After it was all over I told Stark it wasn't working and that I wasn't going to be a back-up Avenger and that I was sorry about the earpiece, and then I caught a cab home." Matt heaved a big sigh. "I screwed it all up."
Foggy was quiet for a moment before saying, "You wanna go get Thai and then drink the afternoon away at Josies?"
Matt rubbed a hand over his face and smiled. "You bet your ass I do."
"And there's, like, no possible way I could meet Steve Rogers?"
"Foggy!" Matt threw an elbow in his friend's direction.
"Ouch, hey! Sorry! You're right, it doesn't matter. Let's go. And tomorrow Karen and I will get you caught up on the Linetti case. We've got a hearing scheduled for five days from now."
"No shit? How's that been going?" As he and Foggy talked, Matt slipped easily back into his old life, but he couldn't help but wonder if he'd made the wrong decision.
xxx Five days later
"Sir."
"Yeah, JARVIS?" Tony asked distractedly, tinkering with a new bit of gadgetry.
"Sir, I believe Agents Barton and Bishop are in trouble."
Tony paused his work. "Already? On a job that simple? What makes you say that?"
"Well, sir, I'm receiving some sort of distress beacon. One of Barton's arrows, I believe."
"Where's it coming from?" Tony asked, worry starting to creep in. Neither Hawkeye ever asked for help unless it was the absolute last resort, and even then...
"In the middle of Yury Volkov's base of operations, sir."
Tony let out a long breath. "Shit."
There was a breath's length of hesitation before JARVIS spoke again."Would you like me to call him, sir?"
They both knew exactly who JARVIS meant. Tony ran his fingers through his hair.
"No, JARVIS. Wake up Rogers. I think I better make that call myself."
xxx