Updated chapter 15! Hope you enjoy!

Daredevil leads them to a rather nice loft, where a dark skinned woman clad in a nurse's uniform awaits them. "Set her on the bed." –she immediately orders, sparing not tie for pleasantries.

Kara does as she's asked, gently laying down the barely conscious woman on the strangely lush silk sheets the Devil apparently prefers. The nurse basically shoves her out of the way – how she could even move a Kryptonian, Kara has no idea – and begins going through the motions of first aid.

A few minutes pass in tense silence, the vigilantes respectfully staying outside the room. Kara helpfully supplies the unnamed nurse with antiseptic, gauze, and tape, as requested. She absently notes that the first aid kit is way too well stocked to be anyone else's but Daredevil's. This is definitely the vigilante's home.

The woman sits, visibly exhausted. "Well, she's lucky. Daredevil must've gotten to her in time; the bastard didn't have time to do much more than shove her against a wall. Just a couple of minor scratches and bruises. No sign of a concussion – must've passed out from the shock." –she declares, handing Kara her bloodied cape.

She stares at the stained garment for a second before folding it up. "Is she going to be alright?"

"Aside from the trauma of being the victim of an attempted assault, you mean?" –she asks, caustic. "Sure."

Kara winces. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to belittle what happened." –she says. "I only meant to figure out if she needed to be taken to an actual hospital."

The nurse sighs. "I know what you meant, Supergirl. It's just...this hits a little close to home." –she mutters, absently scratching at a faded scar on her cheek. "We'll know better once she wakes up, but she doesn't show signs of anything more serious."

Kara nods, relieved. "Thank you, miss...?"

"Temple. Claire Temple. I'd...offer to look you over, but I'm pretty sure you're indestructible." –she says, mildly amused.

"So far, at least. Thanks for coming so quickly."

Nurse Temple hums. "Yeah, well. I might not have signed up for nursing vigilantes – and vigilante-adjacent people – back to health, but I do keep coming back." –she admits.

Kara laughs, softly. "I'm new to this, but...they do seem to be magnets for trouble. How'd you meet Daredevil?"

Claire scoffs. "Found him in a dumpster one night, bleeding out and moaning in pain."

"Yikes."

"What? You'd be surprised at how many vigilantes you can find in dumpsters these days. I swear, New York is full of them."

"That is not what the 'yikes' was for."

Claire snorts. "Right. I guess I have gotten a little too accustomed to the usual grievous wounds and abundant bleeding that comes with the territory."

Kara scowls. "Is it really that bad?"

"Honey, the vast majority of us bleed. Vigilantes just tend to spring leaks more often than most."

"No, I know. It's just...such a jarringly different experience from fighting with the Avengers, or even by myself." –she admits. "I've...never seen violence this harsh up close before, and that's me saying it after fighting off an alien invasion."

Claire looks at her patient. "It'd be hard to, from all the way up in that Tower of yours. Things tend to look a lot shittier down here, at street level."

Kara hums. "No point in denying that. I guess we've been so focused on these...larger than life threats, that we've ignored the terrible things that happen on a daily basis."

Claire sighs. "As much as I wish I could lay the blame on any one thing, it's never that simple. You're not like Daredevil. You're not even like Luke Cage." –she says. "You're this...goddess walking the Earth – and sure, you'd probably be able to take down the Irish and the Triads in three seconds flat, but what happens next? What happens when someone worse fills in the vacuum, looking to challenge you? Things have already escalated since the vigilantes started operating; I'm not sure it's the best idea to throw in the Avengers into the mix."

"Maybe not." –Kara says. "But that doesn't mean we can't find other ways to help. We don't have to throw the Hulk at the mob in order to be of use; we have data, contacts with S.H.I.E.L.D., resources that could help the vigilantes take down criminals more effectively, more efficiently."

Claire narrows her eyes. "You're...strangely adamant about this."

Kara stares at the sleeping redhead on the bed, and thinks of the invisible woman back at the Tower. "These last few days have been...eye opening, to say the least. Ever since I came to Earth and realized I could do all these incredible things, I wanted to use them to help people."

"Why didn't you?"

She sits on the floor. "Fear, at first. I thought people would be afraid of what I can do. I thought they'd see me and think of me as the other – as an invader, a danger to humanity."

"You're blonde and gorgeous, Kara." –Claire retorts, sarcastic.

She blushes. "I...thanks. But I can also fly, and shoot lasers out of my eyes. I'm a walking, talking weapon of mass destruction, as S.H.I.E.L.D. just loved to remind me all the time. They'd tell me things weren't so bad that my powers were really worth the risk." –she says, sad. "Clearly, that's not the case."

"I suppose an alien invasion is a good excuse to finally take the plunge."

Kara looks down at the symbol on her chest. "It's not just that. I think I've finally realized that I can't control what people think of me, and that that's ok. I've been hated and feared for being weird – for being stronger than any man, for coming from another planet, for refusing to conform to humanity's silly, backwards notions of gender and relationships. I've already experienced all the negatives of being different; might as well make something out of the positives, right?"

Claire hums. "You say that now, but in becoming an Avenger, you're not just facing the few bigots you've met along the way; you're exposing yourself to the court of public opinion, Supergirl, and believe me, as a friend to one of New York's most infamous vigilantes, you haven't experienced the worst people have to offer yet."

"True." –she says. "But I have to believe that people will come to see me as someone worth placing their trust in. Maybe I haven't seen the worst of humanity yet, but I've certainly seen some of the best – people willing to risk their lives to help and protect their fellow man. The least I can do is try and follow their example."

"A lot of people aren't gonna see it that way." –Claire warns her. "The Bugle has already run two hit pieces on you, and while I might not care that you came from outer space, my neighbor sure as hell does. Crazy old bastard thinks you'll turn and roast us with your laser eyes any day, now."

Kara winces. "I'm sorry they think that way."

"Don't be sorry. Be proactive. You're gonna have to show them that you're more than just that." –she says, pointing at the symbol of her House. "That drive you just showed me is a good, running start, but it's still just words. You need to start thinking ahead."

"I'm listening..."

"You know why I keep answering the Devil's calls? It's not because he punches criminals into a pulp every night. He gave the same kind of self-sacrificial spiel you just did back in the day – how he had these abilities, this purpose, this crusade of his. He just had to do something." –she recalls, rolling her eyes in a way that suggests she's heard some variation of it more than just a couple times. "Mind you, he was bleeding out as he told me these things. He had the conviction, but that can only get you so far; crime rates didn't even really take a dent those first few months."

"He kept at it, and every time he was on the brink of death, he'd come to me. And every time, I got to experience the terrible privilege of putting this broken man back together – until I said enough. I told him I wouldn't patch him up again, until he started thinking things through – started picking his battles, instead of charging in with no other plan that 'punch some bad guys'." –she says. "I didn't take him in again until he figured out that crime isn't always stopped by a pair of fists – and that, even when it is, you have to figure out where and how hard to hit. You can't cure a disease if you only address the symptoms; you have to root out the causes and take on those, as well."

Kara cups her chin, deep in thought. "I see."

Claire shrugs. "Change needs to happen either way. Taking on the people at the top might be riskier, but also a hell of a lot more effective."

Supergirl smirks. "Aunt Astra would've liked you."

"I'm...hoping that's a compliment."

She rubs the back of her neck. "Well, she was kind of an eco-terrorist, and she did kinda help the collapse of Kryptonian society along...but looking back on it, things were getting extra fascistic, so maybe she wasn't all that bad."

Claire blinks. "...I think I've been called worse."

The door opens behind Kara, and in walks Peter, his face bare but his eyes covered so as to not see anything he isn't meant to. He needn't have worried; Karen is under the covers, sound asleep – and bandaged up, anyways. "Hey Kara, Matt wanted to talk to you."

Kara frowns. "Who's Matt?"

Claire snorts as Peter cringes. "The Devil of Poorly Concealed Secret Identities, apparently."

The blonde giggles. "Rao, we really are terrible at this."

"Matt Murdock, attorney at law." –the newly unmasked and topless man says, offering a bruised and scarred hand.

"Kara Danvers." –she says, shaking it, trying her best not to stare too much at the dozens of scars peppering his torso, both old and recent – most of which, not that she's any expert in human anatomy, looking quite life-threatening. Murdock has a fairly slender, well-toned build, kinda like the adult version of Peter – which tells her they move and fight in fairly similar ways – and his hair is brown, with a hint of red appearing when the light hits it just right. His eyes are odd; alert, but seemingly unfocused. He's staring at her, but doesn't seem to really see her – she considers that the man might be visually impaired, but dismisses the notion as unlikely. She's seen his insane acrobatics, after all.

"That's a heck of a grip." –he notes. "Seems the things I've heard about you are true."

Kara raises an eyebrow. "Oh? Like what?"

He tilts his head. "Well, there's the strength, the impervious skin, the flying...people call you the Girl of Steel, don't they?"

"Not to my face. It's, y'know, advertising." –she says, chagrined. "Which, really, is kind of underwhelming. It's not remotely hard for me to bend steel."

Matt snorts, turning to Peter. "You were right, Peter. Everything she says does sound like a humble brag."

Kara gasps, crossing her arms. "Peter! And here I thought we were cool, man."

He lifts his hands in a placating manner. "Listen, in my defense, you literally spent ten minutes ranting about human cutlery during our snack break."

"Sometimes I forget and chew right through forks! It's a genuine problem!"

"Maybe you could ask Mr. Stark to make you a fork out of the metal Captain America's shield is made from." –he suggests, barely able to suppress his laughter.

Kara huffs. "You laugh, but you have no idea how much silverware I've gone through."

Murdock clears his throat, slipping on a black compression shirt. "As...amusing as this is, we really do have a lot to discuss. Please, sit."

She purses her lips, then takes her place on the couch. Murdock walks over to his fridge and brings over a couple of beers, as well as a tiny grape juice box for Peter. Kara grabs the offered beverage and carefully – so as to not shatter the bottle – pops off the cap. Peter rolls his eyes – muttering something about not being a child under his breath – but eagerly takes the juice box, making both the adults in the room snicker to themselves.

"Am I gonna have to give you a piggyback ride later?" –Peter asks. "You really shouldn't drink and fly."

Kara shakes her head. "Alcohol doesn't do anything for me. I just like beer."

"The beer is alcohol-free, in any case." –Matt shrugs. "I couldn't exactly do my job under the influence." –he says, then turns to Kara. "I want to make something very clear, Miss Danvers: everything I've heard about you makes me think that I shouldn't trust you. Not with my address, not with my friends, and certainly not with my identity."

"...oh." –Kara blinks.

Matt crosses his arms. "You're loud, powerful beyond belief, potentially catastrophic in terms of collateral damage. As vigilantes, we can't afford to put that kind of spotlight on ourselves – we fight in the shadows, in the alleyways, in the dirty nooks and crannies of society – where the laws don't reach, and the worst criminals feel comfortable."

"However," –he continues, before Kara can feel too bad about herself, "my experience with Mr. Parker here has taught me that great power is not, in itself, an obstacle for taking on the responsibilities of fighting crime – but that the two, instead, can and should go hand in hand. You've shown both the willingness and ability to contain your boundless strength. So, I'm trusting Peter's judgement, and in turn, trusting that you, and the rest of the Avengers, can keep it that way, down here in the streets. If I've learned anything in the years since I started all of this, it's that New York needs every pair of hands it can get. I can't be too proud to reject the help."

Kara nods. "Agreed. We'll work things out, I promise."

He tips his beer towards her. "Good to hear. Secondly, I wanted to thank you for your help, just now."

She winces. "I'm sorry I tackled you. I should've realized things were more complicated than they looked like."

Murdock shakes his head. "Don't apologize. You snapped me out of something...dark. Probably saved that man's life." –he admits. "I usually have much better control than I demonstrated back there, but...well, Karen is a friend. And it's my fault that she was in harm's way tonight. I wasn't thinking straight."

Kara scowls, trying not to think too much about just how close this man got to becoming a murderer. "This wasn't a random attack, then?"

"Not at all." –he says, guiltily. "Karen Page – the woman we rescued tonight – is a reporter for the New York Bulletin, but even before that, she helped me uncover Union Allied Construction's true purpose in laundering money for the Russian mob, Yakuza, the Triads, and the Kingpin of Crime himself, Wilson Fisk."

Kara vaguely remembers the scandal – it shook the city of New York to its core, but that was a years ago, probably around the time she was leaving for college. "Right, heard about that."

"We recently came across information, potentially linked to that old scandal, that I asked her to dig deeper into – information that's made her a target, leading to tonight's unfortunate events."

"Do you know who attacked her?"

"The hitman, we don't know. But the hit itself was likely ordered by one member or another of a whole cabal of men and women with a lot of power and influence in this city and beyond."

She hums, then looks at Peter. "Do you think this could be related to what Gwen found?"

"We, uh...already know it is, Kara." –he replies, wincing with guilt clearly written on his face.

Kara frowns, but Matt beats her to the punch. "I was skeptical, at first." –he confesses. "It seems simple enough – a cut and dry case of systemic corruption at first glance, buying out judges, politicians, and the police force, purchasing every inch of land available in New York...whatever helps them accrue power and wealth. Influence. Like Fisk and his cronies before them, I thought they were simply trying to get rich by peddling drugs unhindered by the criminal justice system, but this conspiracy goes much deeper than that."

"I know this is gonna sound like we're talking about the Illuminati or something like that." –Peter says. "But we think that's exactly what's going on here – people in power trying to take control of the world behind the scenes."

Kara blinks. "So who are they, then? Do you have any names? Any evidence we can act on?"

"Not in so many words – and certainly not something that would hold up in a court of law." –Murdock admits. "We've been unable to figure just who's at the top, but we do know the identities of some of the players vying to get with them, as well as a rough understanding of their overall plan."

"Ok, let's stop playing the pronoun game. Just who are we talking about."

"They're major corporations, Kara." –Peter says. "Picture it this way; there's this...council at the top – whoever's on it gets to rule the world whenever their evil plan happens – and they have spots open for new members. If you wanna get in, you've gotta audition – bring something, be it robotics, genetic engineering, weaponry, defense systems – to the table. Anything that's help strengthen the overall group. It's like...a talent show of evil. Or a science fair of doom."

"Take Roxxon Energy, for example – supposedly a simple, innocent oil conglomerate, but it has its fingers in some very odd pies. They've invested in something called xeno-genetics, which I didn't even know was a scientific field of study – I mean, aliens have only officially been a thing since Thor landed in New Mexico."

Matt nods. "Hammer Industries was a major player, too, before Justin Hammer went and got the Stark Expo destroyed, which may or may not have gotten them kicked out of the game."

"Then there's obviously our mutual friends at OsCorp, which have a huge stake in bleeding edge bioengineering." –Peter says.

Kara crosses her arms. "So...OsCorp's efforts in recreating the Serum that gave Captain Rogers his powers are their attempt at filling in that vacancy?"

"Precisely." –Matt says.

"How the heck did you figure this whole thing out?" –Kara asks, baffled. "You and Gwen kinda made it seem like you were barely starting to put two and two together."

Peter rubs the back of his head. "Yeah...sorry, about that. We, uh...didn't know how much we could trust you with. But hey, you're getting the whole enchilada now, right?"

Matt spares a wry smile for the awkward teenager. "Miss Stacy accidentally received an e-mail with some rather inconvenient information: a collection of unlisted projects, locations, and updates for off-the-books research projects some branch of OsCorp or another has undertaken. They're linked to small, local companies – the kind of enterprise Union Allied seemed to be, at first glance, before you dug deeper and figured out they were part of a truly enormous multinational network of companies built entirely to muddy the waters and obfuscate any kind of paper trail, mostly spawned or bought within the last forty or fifty years." –Murdock explains. "It's an extremely similar M.O. to Fisk's and why I was convinced to help Peter and Miss Stacy figure things out."

"You wanna know the weirdest part?" –Peter asks. "It's because of you guys that we even got the chance to start making those connections." –he claims.

Kara raises an eyebrow. "How so?"

"The Avengers have this cabal scared." –Matt says, smirking in an unsettlingly predatory manner. "They're getting sloppy, trying to rush things – because suddenly, it's not just Iron Man, or a few vigilantes making things difficult at street level. Out of the blue, there's this powerful group of heroes protecting people – individuals who pose a major threat to their long term designs. I have a hacktivist friend digging into their communications, and though she's been unable to give us names to go after, it's become clear that the people at the top are in a panic, their formerly comfortable clandestine operations now at risk of becoming your targets."

Kara rubs her chin for a moment. "We recently captured some Enhanced individuals trying to steal Chitauri equipment and remains. They were being controlled via explosive collars, presumably sent to test our might, so to speak."

"They must've been...sacrifices, of sorts. Throwing superpowered people at you, trying to figure out how the Avengers are going to change the status quo. They've never had to worry about anything other than their mutual rivalries – it stands to reasons that they would assess what kind of threat you pose, even if it meant potentially losing some of their assets."

Kara shakes her head in disgust. "So, what's the plan?"

"We need to expose them." –Matt says, resolute. "The only reason they've grown so powerful is because no one knew to look for them, let alone stop them."

"But we need proof." –Peter says. "We have enough to make OsCorp uncomfortable, and a few locations we can maybe link to some of the other players, but we need something irrefutable."

Kara taps her chin. "Well, I'm due for a trip to OsCorp soon. Plus, we're thinking about paying Norman Osborn a visit, too. I'll try to get something we can work with."

Matt looks dubious. "Will your teammates take to it with as much gusto as you? I imagine it'll be uncomfortable for them to work alongside us lowly vigilantes."

The Supergirl snorts. "I'm not gonna lie to you, Murdock; what you do is dangerous, rough, and much more morally dubious than I'm willing to really ponder for too long, but at the end of the day, we're all fighting for the same thing. The methods, the motivations – those may be different, but we all want peace and justice. If you're willing to put up with Rogers' lectures, Stark throwing technology at you, and getting uncomfortably close to public scrutiny, breaking a few laws – and apparently, a few jaws – in the name of justice is something I can look past."

The Devil grimaces. "Public scrutiny isn't something any of us are comfortable with."

Peter elbows him. "Hey, I know we've all got a lot to lose if we're found out, but...don't we have just as much risk going on by fighting on our own? Think about how much faster you could clean up the Kitchen if you had actual intelligence instead of just hearsay and confessions you beat out of people."

"Peter, you've been the biggest proponent for secret identities out of all of us until now – even more than me, and that's saying something. Why the change of heart?"

Peter blushes, briefly glancing at Kara. "I had a good pep talk." –he says. "Look, the point is, there wasn't anything like the Avengers when we started. We've all been getting by, sometimes not so well, helping each other when we could and hoping for the best when we couldn't."

"We've never wanted to be a team." –Matt counters.

"Maybe not, but just think of how much pain we could've avoided if we'd just worked together." –Peter argues. "If you'd had Luke by your side when taking on Nobu, or Jess keeping an eye on Claire so the Russians wouldn't have kidnapped her." –he says, Matt's expression taking on a haunted look. "We don't always have to go it alone."

Murdock stays silent, deep in thought. "If it helps at all, S.H.I.E.L.D. probably knows who all of you are under the masks. All Enhanced individuals are recorded in their Index. Unless you're underaged, like the Spiderling here, they've got your name, age, address, power set...pretty much everything."

The lawyer tenses up. "If that's true, then how come they haven't tried to stop us? Good intentions aside, we are breaking the law."

"From my experience, S.H.I.E.L.D. isn't as interested in following the law as it is in keeping the peace. They must think you're doing a good job." –she says. "In any case, there's no need to be hasty. We'll cooperate, but working more closely with the Avengers...it's not an easy choice to make, I get it. We can discuss making you guys matching costumes later – right now, we need to focus on figuring out this plot instead."

Murdock nods. "It's appreciated. Some of the others will...take some convincing, but I'll worry about them. I can at least guarantee we'll fight alongside you, if it comes to that."

"When it comes to that." –Kara corrects. "People in power...they do their best to hold onto it. You can bet they're not gonna go down easy."

"Agreed."

She rises, casting one last look at the room where Karen sleeps under Claire's watchful eye. "I should go. Keep me in the loop, alright? I'll talk to the others about this, see what they think."

"Of course."

"Will Karen stay here? I can take her to the Tower, if you'd prefer. Rao knows we've got the room to spare."

Matt shakes his head. "She's safe here. Thank you."

Kara hums. "Alright." –she says, starting to float towards the rooftop access. "Oh, where do I put this?" –she asks, holding the empty beer bottle up.

"In the bin, by my cane." –he says, amused, pointing at the kitchen behind him.

Supergirl blinks, looking past him. Indeed, beside the fridge, there's a trash bin beside a folded-up walking stick. Both vigilantes snicker as she puts two and two together – the cane, the unfocused gaze, the blindingly bright neon sign across the street. "Rao's gaze, you're blind!?"

As always, thank you for your attention! Make sure to comment or message me if you have any questions about this story. Look me up on Twitter as Darthkvzn or Tumblr as darthkvznblogs if you'd like - and on Ko-fi, as Darthkvzn, if you like what I do and have a buck to spare.

Until next time!