Matt tried very hard to ignore his phone ringing at (he pressed the button on top of his alarm clock and it informed him that it was 2:17 am) 2:17 am, but it was Iron Man calling.

That was a very hard call to ignore.

He groaned and rolled over, grabbing his phone off of the nightstand. "H'llo?"

"Hey, Murdock. You know how I said you would be a pinch-hitter?"

"You know how I said it wasn't really working?" Matt responded, a little frustrated. He had a hearing tomorrow (wait-make that today) and Foggy would kill him if he botched it.

"Yeah, I know. But Clint and Kate are in trouble, Nat just went overseas, and Thor and the big guy aren't very stealthy. And, as much as I hate to admit it, neither am I."

Matt sat up in bed, Stark having gotten his attention. "What kind of trouble?"

"Oh, you know. The Russian kind."

Matt closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. Always with the Russians. "How many?"

"A lot. It'll be you and Cap. I have absolute faith in the two of you." The next words held a hint of desperation. "Will you come?"

"Yeah," Matt said. Damn you. "Just-I need to get dressed."

"Happy will pick you up a few blocks from your apartment, then you and Cap will go in together. I'll be listening, so if things really go downhill you won't be alone. It would be best for everyone if things don't really go downhill. Think you can handle that?"

Matt suppressed a sigh as he made his way to the closet where his suit resided. "Well I can sure as hell try."

"That's the spirit." There was a pause before he added, "Thanks, Murdock. I owe you one."

"No you don't. I'm hanging up now; this suit is hard enough to get on without a phone in my hand."

"I could give you your earpiece back."

"Bye, Stark." Matt hung up his phone as he grabbed his suit, quickly getting undressed before changing into his Daredevil outfit and hurrying down to where Happy was waiting.

Steve was waiting in the backseat, clearly gearing up for a fight but still cool as a cucumber.

"Murdock," he said once the door was shut. "I'm glad you could make it."

"It may not seem like it after what I left the way I did, but I care about you guys. Clint and Kate are in danger, and I want to help. What's the situation?"

"Clint and Kate were just supposed to be doing some surveillance, but something happened and now we're pretty sure they've been taken by the Russians they were supposed to be watching."

"Doesn't Stark have, like, drones and shit that could handle surveillance?" Matt asked, still mildly cranky at being roused from bed at such an ungodly hour the night before a hearing. Morning of a hearing.

Steve sighed. "Yeah, but Kate is really eager to prove herself and Tony finally caved and put her and Clint on an op that was supposed to be easy and hands-off, but obviously that didn't happen. I don't know what Tony's gonna do if Clint, or Kate…" Steve sighed again, a long sigh. "We don't know much other than what building they're in and that there are a lot of hostiles. Stark doesn't wanna surveil in case it puts ours at risk, so we're going to have to go in blind."

"Not necessarily," Matt said. "If we can get me close, I'll be able to tell you a lot."

Steve let out a sudden chuckle that surprised Matt then said, "A blind man keeping me from going in blind. Who'd have thought."

They rode in silence for a moment before Matt finally asked the question that had been on his mind since he got in the car. "So...are you wearing the stars and stripes then?"

Steve snorted. "Oh gosh no. I'm in tactical gear, all black. Not my usual outfit, but a little more appropriate than the other, I think. I even have a tactical version of the shield with me."

"You two chatty Cathys ready or what?" Happy said from the front seat. "We're almost to the dropping point."

"Thanks, Happy," Steve said, and after a moment the car rolled to a stop in an alley. Matt and Steve got out of the car, and Matt could sense the spike in Steve's adrenaline.

"How close are we?" Matt asked.

"Half a block south of the you say you'll be able to tell me a lot, what do you mean?"

"I can probably tell you how many people are in there, maybe on what floors, and where Clint and Kate are if we're lucky," Matt answered.

"Of all the crazy things I've seen in the last few years, that has got to be one of the craziest," steve muttered, almost to himself. Then, "Okay, we're coming up on the building next to them. We'll go in through the back so you can get a read on the situation without tipping off the Russians, then we can decide what to do from there."

Matt nodded and Steve forced the door open with a single well placed kick. The two of them walked into the building that smelled of metal and leather and that Matt guessed was probably a welding shop and through it until they were at the other door, opposite of where the Russians were with Clint and Kate.

"Okay," Matt said, taking a deep breath. "Give me a minute." He closed his eyes and took another deep breath-in, out- and as he exhaled his reigned in all of his senses, sharpening his focus and shifting it to the building across the street.

Another breath.

In. Twenty heartbeats total, spread between two of the building's three floors. One of them was fluttering and frightened. One was working for too hard and pumping far too fast.

Out. A frightened voice to match the heartbeat: "You can't sleep right now. I need you."

Another.

In. Clint's strained response."Y'...y'need me, huh?"

Out. One other heartbeat in the room. One at the door. Four in a room down the hall and the rest on the floor below.

Matt opened his eyes and turned to Steve. "Eighteen hostiles. A dozen on the first floor. Clint and Kate are in a room on the second floor with one hostile, one more at the door, and four in a room down the hall. The door is the only way in and out of the room. And Clint is hurt. It sounds pretty bad."

Steve's heart jumped at the last thing, and there was the slightest waver in his voice when he spoke. "There's a fire escape on the west side of the building. We'll go in that way. Once we're in, I need you to go directly to Clint and Kate. The man in the room with them probably has a gun, and we don't want to give him the chance to do you get Kate and Clint out. If he's hurt as bad as you say, he won't make it down the ladder, so you'll need to get them out the other way. I think I know you well enough to know that your instinct is going to be to fight. Don't. Your first priority needs to be to get them to safety. I'll clear the way for you. I need you to trust me on this, Murdock."

Matt wasn't sure he had as much faith in him as Steve was asking for, and while he had the choice not to follow orders, doing so would put Clint and Kate in even more danger, and that wasn't something he could do. He nodded. "You got it, Cap. And that's the last time you call me by my name. I don't want these guys to know anything about me."

"Alright, Daredevil. You ready?"

"Ready," Matt answered, and they headed for the building.

The fire escape ladder was alarmingly loud as Steve pulled it down, and Matt listened for a response from the men inside, relieved when there was none.

"We're good," he said, and they hurried up the ladder and onto the second floor. Matt headed straight for the room where Clint and Kate were being held, despite the Russians that came pouring out of a doorway to his left. One of them grabbed his arm, but released it an instant later-judging by the clang, presumably due to a shield to the head. Suddenly Steve was beside him, then in front of him, dispatching the man guarding the door before bursting into the room.

Matt's heart skipped a beat at the overwhelming smell of blood.

"Stop!" a young man with a surprisingly American accent cried, raising his weapon, but before he could do anything he, too fell victim to Captain America's shield.

"Oh thank god you guys are here," Kate breathed.

"H...hey. I thought you quit," Clint said from the floor.

"Yeah well, so did I," Matt said. A commotion from the lower level made him turn to Steve. "They're coming up."

"I'll take care of them," Steve said, picking up his shield and heading back out the door.

Matt turned toward Kate. "We have to get him out of here. Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm fine," she said, and her voice was shaking.

"Good," he said, bending down next to Clint. "I'm gonna get you to your feet now. It's not going to be pleasant. You ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Clint responded.

Matt pulled Clint's right arm over his shoulders and stood as quickly as he dared, trying to ignore the pained sounds that erupted from the Avenger.

"Get his other arm," he instructed, and Kate quickly obeyed so that Clint was supported between the two of them. "Alright, let's get out of here."

It took a few steps for Clint to get his legs beneath him, and even then it was slow-going. Matt could tell that the man was in bad shape-trembling all over, sweating and clammy, heart racing, blood still leaking from the bullet hole in his side. It was amazing that he was even conscious. As they made their way down the hall, something caught Kate's attention in the other room and she stopped.

"Give me a second," she said, ducking out from under Clint's arm and leaving Matt to take his bodyweight. A few seconds later she returned, bow and quiver in hand, and resumed her position at Clint's left side. "Let's go."

"Atta girl," Clint said, his words laced with pride.

"Well I couldn't let you lose your net arrows. You just got them!" There was a shout from the stairwell, and the sounds of a fight floated toward them. Kate turned to Matt. Fear had snaked its way into her voice. "There's a lot of them."

"Cap's got it. We just need to get out of here," Matt responded, pushing his own doubts aside. By the time they got to the stairwell, the fighting had moved down to the bottom floor and there were significantly fewer conscious Russians.

"Anyone...anyone object to us t-taking this a little...slow?" Clint asked, his voice thin.

"C'mon, Barton, you've got this. Just one step at a time." Kate said with forced pep.

They did okay at first, but halfway down the staircase Clint's legs folded beneath him, the sudden dead weight almost pulling Matt and Kate down, too.

"Aww, legs, no," Clint muttered. "'M sorry. You...y'should probably j'st leave."

"That's not gonna happen," Matt said. "Come on!" He hauled Clint back to his feet with a grunt and they continued the difficult trek. Clint was panting now, his labored breathing mixing with the occasional groan. They came out of the stairwell and immediately a bullet whizzed past Matt's head. For a split second he was tempted to let Kate take Clint the rest of the way out and fight, but he knew that the teenager would struggle to get her mentor out on her own. He had to trust Steve to do the fighting.

"We're almost there, Clint!" Kate called over the fighting. "You're doing so good!"

Clint's steps were getting sloppier, and just as they made it out of the building he went limp between Matt and Kate.

"Clint!" Kate's voice was high and tight with panic. "Nonono. Clint!"

"He's still breathing and his heartbeat is strong," Matt said, offering comfort in the only way he could think to. He could hear an ambulance nearby and getting closer, and something told him it was for Clint. "We're almost there, Kate. You doing okay?"

"I'm okay."

Matt knew she was lying, but he didn't say anything. Someone had come out of the door they'd just exited and he was easily gaining on them.

"Come on, Steve," Matt muttered under his breath. There was an unconscious man hanging off of him, so there wasn't much he could do to stop the impending attack.

"Look out!" Kate cried, and before he could duck out of the way something connected with the side of his head with surprising force and he fell unconscious.

xxx

He awoke to the feeling of wind blowing in his hair and someone holding his wrist. His head was pounding and he was having a hard time focusing, and something wasn't right...His face was showing. His face was showing.

Shit.

He grabbed the hand that was holding his wrist. "Who are you?" he demanded.

"My name's Dylan. I'm a paramedic. Will you let go of my wrist please?"

Matt slowly let go, still suspicious of the stranger. "My face. You're not supposed to see my face."

"Relax. I'm a friend of Tony's. So's Casey, the driver. She's on the phone with him now, actually."

Matt frowned, slowly sitting up and wincing when it made his headache worse. "Stark?"

"Yeah. He's putting us through medical school so we help him out on stuff like this. Stuff that needs to stay on the DL, that is. Can you tell me what you had for dinner?"

Matt frowned. "What I had for-look, I'm fine. You have to let me go. I've got a hearing today and-"

"You're not going anywhere," Dylan interrupted. "You took a pretty good blow to the head. You're looking at a probable concussion. "You remember what you had for dinner?"

"Leftover pizza from Remi's. Now will you let me go?"

"No can do, sir. If you'll just lay back down for me-"

"Listen, kid," Matt said, irritation building.

"Stark says he'll be here soon with a change of clothes and a cover story," a woman that Matt guessed was Casey said before he could finish his threat. She walked over and stood in front of Matt. "He wanted me to tell you he got your hearing moved back so you have time to recover."

"He…huh."

"Now will you lay back for me?" Dylan asked, and Matt slowly obliged, only to sit up again.

"Wait, where's Clint?"

Dylan put a hand against Matt's chest, gently pushing him back. "He's in surgery. He was conscious when he got to emergency and was stable and strong going into the OR, which is the best we could've hoped for. Are you experiencing any headache, nausea, dizziness?"

Matt laid back down and thought about it for a moment. "All of the above," he finally said. The adrenaline he'd had was winding down now and he realized that he felt like shit.

"Okay, Matt, once Tony gets here we'll get you changed and then into the ER. The doctors there will do some scans and decide the best course of treatment," Casey said.

"'Kay," Matt said, closing his eyes and riding out the waves of nausea that were now hitting him full force. The smell of expensive cologne made him open his eyes again. "Stark?'

"Hey, Murdock. You've looked better pal. How're you feeling?"

"Great. How the hell did you get my hearing moved?"

"Oh, you know. The judge was an old friend of my father's, no big deal. I brought you some pajamas to change into. And if anyone asks, you slipped and fell in the shower."

Matt grimaced. "Is that really the best you could come up with?"

Stark sighed. "Well, if you can think of something better that isn't 'I got hit in the head by a Russian with a crowbar and a swing rivals that of Joe DiMaggio,' I'd love to hear it."

"Shower it is," Matt said, slowly sitting up with Dylan's help and taking his pajamas from Stark.

"Case and I will go wait in the front of the ambulance while you change," Dylan offered. Then to Stark, "Yell if he vomits or faints."

"You've got it," Stark said. Once the paramedics were gone, he turned and said, "Don't worry, I won't peek."

Matt changed as quickly as he could, but between the terrible headache, the turning stomach, and feeling like the ground was teeter-tottering beneath him, it took a little longer than usual. When he was finally done, he dropped the suit and laid back down on the gurney.

"I'll take your suit back to your apartment," Stark said.

"How'd you get in there in the first place?"

"I called your friend Foggy. Nice guy. He actually offered to meet you at the ER and take you back home."

"Oh," Matt said.

"You done?" Dylan called.

"Yeah, he's done. Thanks, Dylan," Stark called. "And thank you, Murdock. I really do owe you one. You've got my number if you need me. You guys better get going! Murdock looks like shit."

Matt flipped him the bird as he was loaded into the ambulance. The nausea was getting worse as the pain in his head intensified and he found himself saying, "I'm gonna throw up."

Dylan hastily shoved a bag into his hands and Matt lost the contents of his stomach, the heaving only serving to make the pounding even worse. When he was done, Dylan took the bag and Matt directed a question at him.

"How the hell did I get a concussion with that thing on my head?"

"Football players get concussions and scientists and medical professionals have been working to improve their helmets for decades. That helmet probably saved your life. Are you experiencing any other symptoms I should know about?"

"I can't see," Matt responded, getting a chuckle from Dylan.

"Your sense of humor seems to be intact. That's good. Hey Casey, can we get an ETA?"

"About two minutes."

"Good. We'll get your scans, make sure your brain isn't too damaged, and then we can get you some medication for the nausea and pain. Sound good?"

Matt just grunted in response. They arrived at the ER and Matt was able to get through surprisingly quickly (apparently head injuries did that). Foggy had found him by the time the results from the scans came back. He definitely had a concussion (no surprise there), but it was nothing toomajor. They gave him some anti-nausea medication and told him to take Tylenol or aspirin, not ibuprofen, and that he was to get plenty of sleep and avoid physical exertion and things that required a lot of mental concentration for the next four weeks (and yes that included law).

"How the hell did Stark manage to get our hearing pushed back?' Foggy asked as they walked out into the early morning to catch a cab.

"His dad was a friend of the judge," Matt answered. "Shit, I'm exhausted." While the nausea was gone, the headache was more persistent. He wanted to just sleep it off now, like a bad hangover.

"Yeah, I bet. Falling in the shower will do that to you."

Matt frowned. "You know I didn't actually-"

Foggy laughed. "Yeah, I know. I'm glad you're okay. From what Stark said you really put yourself on the line to save Hawkeye."

Matt shrugged. "I don't know about that." A familiar sound came out of Foggy's pocket. "Is that my phone?"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. I brought it for you. Uh…" There was some fumbling and Foggy pulled it out of his pocket. "It's a text from Stark!"

"You wanna just read it to me?"

"Uh, yeah. He says...Barton is out of surgery and stable."

Matt let out a sigh of relief. "Good."

"I can't believe you saved Hawkeye," Foggy said as a cab pulled up. "This is for us."

They got into the backseat together and it was everything Matt could do not to fall asleep on the short ride home. Foggy walked him up to his apartment.

"'Kay, Matt, I'll be by later to check on you, okay? You call me if you need anything?"

"Thanks, Foggy," Matt said, collapsing onto his bed with a sigh.

He was asleep before Foggy had even left.

xxx

When he woke up, there was the smell of tomato soup from the kitchen and the sounds of quiet conversation. He sat up, dismayed to find that he still had a slight headache, and walked out into the living room.

"Hey, Matt!"

He smiled. "Hi, Karen," he said, returning her hug.

"Foggy told me what happened! I'm glad you're okay!"

"Yeah, thanks. I guess that's the last time I use bar soap. Hey, what time is it?"

"Four," Foggy said. "You've been asleep for almost eleven hours. How are you feeling?"

His stomach growled loudly and he put a hand over it as if somehow that would muffle the sound. "Like I could use some aspirin and food."

"Well we've got both," Karen said.

"And you also have a thank you basket from Tony Stark, for helping out with that study," Foggy said.

"The study?" Matt said, then remembered what the cover story had been during training. "Oh, the study! Right. I take it you already looked to see what's in there?"

"I tried to stop him," Karen said.

"Not very hard!" Foggy shot back.

"Well?" Matt said, gratefully accepting a glass of water and some pain medication from his friend.

"You've got fancy chocolates, fancy alcohol, fancy shot glasses with your initials on them, a fancy watch that will read you the time, outside temperature, and your coordinates, a sleek looking tie that has a pattern of arc reactors on it and is signed at the bottom, and an earpiece," Foggy said, and Matt thought he could hear some glee in his voice at the last part.

"An earpiece?" Karen said. "Why would he send you that?"

"I have no idea," Matt said. The bastard.

"Huh. Well, sit down and I'll get you some soup."

"Thanks, Karen," Matt said, sitting down. "You really don't have to-"

"Yeah, I do. You're important to me. Plus I know from experience that no one should be alone when they have a concussion, at least not for the first few days."

Matt snorted. "Oh, come on. You don't have to babysit me."

"We're not babysitting," Foggy argued. "We're hanging out with you and sharing your fancy chocolates and your fancy alcohol and your fancy pears. Stark also bought you a pear subscription. I forgot about that before."

Matt laughed. "Fine. Thank you, guys. I really appreciate it. I couldn't ask for better friends."

He really couldn't.

xxx

It was a week later that Matt got a text from an unfamiliar number. He had his phone read out the text to him.

"Hi, Matt. This is Steve. Clint is awake and allowed visitors. Would you like to come with me to see him?"

Ten minutes later, Matt was back in the backseat of Happy's cara with Steve Rogers, only this time instead of being decked out in tactical gear they were wearing jeans and t-shirts.

"Hey, I'm sorry I vanished the other night," Steve said. "I was helping the police with the round-up. I knew you were in good hands, but it was still awful of me to leave you like that."

Matt shrugged. "It's okay, really."

"And you're doing okay?"

"I'm still getting headaches and I'm not allowed to do my job-either of them- for three more weeks, but other than that I'm great! I have to admit, though, the break is...nice. I'm just getting a little restless is all."

"Well Tony wanted me to tell you that you're welcome to come wile away the hours at Avengers Tower if you get too bored. We certainly wouldn't mind having you around. Fresh faces are always welcome."

"And my face is still fresh?" Matt asked and Steve laughed.

"Oh, you have no idea. Fighting with them is one thing, living with them...that is a whole other thing."

"I don't doubt it," Matt answered just as the car stopped. "Thanks, Happy."

"Don't mention it," Happy answered.

When Matt and Steve got to Clint's hotel room, he was sitting up in bed talking to Kate.

"You really don't think you can pass Lucky off as a service dog?" he was saying.

"He has one eye! He practically needs a service dog himself!" Kate replied. "Oh. Hey, Steve! Hi Matt!"

Clint turned and a grin split his face. "Hey, guys! Hey, thanks for saving me. I could've done it myself only...well, I got shot. That kind of ruined it. Did you know they had to-never mind, that's disgusting. Anyway, Matt, thank you for coming back. I really appreciate it."

"We really appreciate it," Kate corrected. "Really. Thank you."

Matt rubbed the back of his neck. "It really wasn't a big deal…"

"Why don't you guys sit down?" Clint said.

"Do you have time?" Steve asked Matt.

"Well, I don't have work," Matt said.

"Great! Have I ever told you guys the story of how I got Lucky?"

Kate groaned as Matt and Steve sat down, and Matt couldn't help but feel like maybe there was a place for him with these loons.

He would just have to wait and see.

xxx