"Of course they'd want to get to know you! You're a- well, not a superhero but something of the sort. You guys are clearly on the same page."

"It's a movie night, Foggy. What the hell do I need to participate in a movie night for?" Matt angles his head to give the impression that he's fixing his best friend and partner in fighting crime with a gaze to emphasize his point.

Daredevil has recently been invited by the Avengers for a, what they call, "bonding session". After all, it was only a matter of time, Matt figured, until the superhero team would have enough of a break from their alien battles to take an interest in Hell's Kitchen's local vigilante.

"Ugh, it's not about the movie! That's just a subterfuge for spending time with you. Unless it's really just a thing they do weekly. But that doesn't matter because guess what? You'll have the Avengers as your friends, man! It's gonna be awesome!" Foggy insists, clearly far more enthusiastic about the prospect of him meeting the Avengers than Matt himself is.

Matt purses his lips and frowns.

It's not that he doesn't admire them. Without them, Manhattan as a whole would have most likely been eradicated not long ago. And really, who else would be suited to fight gigantic alien armies from space? Certainly not him. They are good people and actual heroes, even if Matt doesn't always agree with their methods. But just because he appreciates what they do doesn't mean he wants to get in touch with them.

Truth be told, he has no interest in getting to know them. As far as he is concerned, they should all just stay in their respective territories; Hell's Kitchen being his and the rest of New York – or the world, or even the galaxy, he doesn't care – being theirs. Why do they have to meddle with his few dozen blocks on top of everything else?

And besides, he knows that he works best on his own. He can rely on himself and is aware of his strengths and drawbacks. And so far, he's been able to deal with all the threats in Hell's Kitchen without much help – except post-battle of course. But he doubts that the Avengers would agree to let him do the work and potentially just help patch him up afterwards.

"They've never been missing in my life. And since when are you a fan of them? I thought you disliked superheroes. Or does that only apply to vigilantes?"

"Well, I might have somewhat changed my mind since finding out that my best friend runs around in a mask at night. And don't get me wrong, I'm not a fan of them. I just think that having friends this powerful will come in handy at some point. If only it means that you turning up half-dead on my doorstep becomes the exception instead of the rule..." The accusation lingers in the air as he gives Matt a piercing look.

Matt only presses his lips together in response but Foggy certainly knows that he's just made a very convincing argument. Anything to make his friends worry about him less is a win.

"Look, I don't want you to join them or even fight alongside them because I'm pretty sure their battles surpass your proverbial pay grade and I don't want to find out what effects fighting alongside people who actually kill will have on your Catholic conscience but having friends is something Daredevil sorely lacks. He could use some help from time to time. What do you have to lose?"

At least a dozen things immediately jump to the tip of Matt's tongue. From the way Foggy's muscles tense Matt knows that the same thoughts have just crossed his mind. But he voices them anyway. "My identity, subsequent anonymity, my integrity as a lawyer, as well as yours of course, all our cases and clients and above all else, the safety of my friends. Namely you and Karen."

Foggy holds up a hand to stop him but actually waits for him to finish before speaking. "Okay, point taken. But the thing is, you never have to take off your mask when you're with them and if you don't reveal any information that's too personal I think you should be fine. Be Daredevil on the outside and otherwise just be yourself. Your- your Matt self, I mean, not your intimidating, scary, ruthlessly-beating-on-people Daredevil self. You can be charming."

Foggy is right, of course. Matt may not want the Avengers to join his fights, much less vice versa, but there is no real reason not to hang out with them. And if it helps Foggy and maybe also Karen to be less concerned about him, who is he to deprive them of any more peaceful nights when an opportunity to prevent that presents itself to him?

"So, you think Daredevil can't make any friends?"

"Well, I'd like to see him try. Your choice of course. By the way, what do they mean by 'We sincerely hope you can make it this time'?" He points at the passage in the letter. "This time? How often have they invited you?"

"This is the… sixth time, I think?"

Foggy's jaw drops before he holds his hands to his head in a flabbergasted gesture. "The sixth time?! What are you doing, Matt? Don't pass up on this once in a lifetime opportunity."

The Talking Heads faintly start playing in the back of Matt's mind as he shrugs his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. "More like once a week, really," he says matter-of-factly as he takes a moment to ruminate on the encounters of the past few weeks.


The first time he received an invitation, he was completely unsuspecting, simply minding his own business in Hell's Kitchen. Well, technically the business of everyone who needed help or caused others to need help, depending on who of them was louder or faster in making themselves known.

Matt had just stopped a robber from getting himself into more trouble than was worth the almost empty kiosk register, when his hearing picked up a female voice fearfully shouting his name and the words, "Help me, please," which was all the reason he needed to rush to the scene. Quickly realizing that the fastest way to her was over the rooftops, he climbed a nearby building and started his parkour, leaping over various obstacles, sliding down slopes and jumping from rooftop to rooftop with the occasional flip. The entire repertoire.

Before even reaching the alley the screams had come from he sensed that the woman was alone and apparently not getting attacked by anyone which he confirmed for good as he loomed over the edge of the closest building. Of course, the idea that this might be a trap was the first thing on his mind. But there was no one else around, and no suspicious objects or weapons, so he decided to give the woman the benefit of the doubt, though not the chance to get the jump on him, which is why he swiftly climbed down the fire escape to land behind her.

She didn't flinch, even though her back was turned to him, hands on her hips, and her heartbeat was steady, not the faintest hint of fear or even discomfort detectable. Something was fishy.

Matt's muscles were tense as he rose to a menacing stance, head lowered and a frown on his face.

The woman chuckled lightly before gracefully spinning around to face him. "Oh, hi," she said, sounding surprised. As if she hadn't just called for him. Then she approached him, tugged something out of one of her pockets and held it out to him. Flat shape. A whiff of cellulose, ink and a hint of lignin.

Paper. Writing. Probably an envelope. "This is for you," she said sweetly. He tilted his head and hesitantly accepted the paper.

Not waiting for a reply from him, she swiftly slipped around the corner, making impressively little noise.

Matt stared after her for a moment before opening the envelope and unfolding the piece of paper inside. He slipped off a glove and ran his fingers over the words, relieved to find that they were handwritten, otherwise he'd have had to wait for Foggy to read them out to him. The handwriting appeared to be quite round and small, making him assume she probably wrote the letter herself. And if that was the case...

Then this had just been his first encounter with an Avenger. And apparently they didn't want it to be their last. He actually considered accepting their invitation this first time but came to the conclusion that it would have no added value to him. In hindsight, it had been a little naïve of him to think they'd just accept his decision. He had hoped that ignoring their invitation would just make them shrug and go, "Well then not." But no, the Avengers were actually quite stubborn. But, so was he. After all, he'd made quite a living out of it.


The second time it wasn't one of the Avengers who allegedly got attacked, but rather himself. By an arrow. Granted, it thrust into the metal framework of a nearby water silo but anyone other than Hawkeye – must've been Hawkeye – could have accidentally struck him. Which is why Matt's first instinct when he heard the twang of the bow and the consecutive whoosh of the arrow was to dodge it by doing a cartwheel to the side, and immediately directing his senses to where it had come from. 12th floor, a few blocks away.

"Sorry!" the man yelled and it occurred to Matt that the goal hadn't been to kill him. He sensed a piece of paper dangling from the arrow's shaft behind him. Grumbling, he ripped it off and moved behind a stairwell housing to read it, out of Hawkeye's line of sight. Who knew how good his vision was.

When his suspicion as to what the letter contained proved true he stopped reading halfway through and slipped away. Why couldn't they take a hint?


Matt heard the Iron Man suit flying his way miles away. It was fast. Too fast for him to outrun, so he just stayed where he was and waited for the inevitable.

The armor landed heavily on the rooftop a few feet away from him, then swaggered toward him and said in a robotic voice, "A delivery for a..." The suit looked at the envelope and turned it upside down. "Uh, Mr. Dorkdevil?"

Matt scoffed, but couldn't hide an amused smile. "You could have at least delivered it personally," he complained, arms crossed over his chest.

The armor looked taken aback. "Whoa, how did you know I'm not in here? Even had Pepper fooled and that's not an easy accomplishment."

"Just a lucky guess," Matt said as he reluctantly accepted the letter from the outstretched titanium-gold-alloy gauntlet.

"Good guess. Read." It pointed at the letter before giving a quick salute and blasting off into the sky with an amount of noise Matt didn't want to have to get used to.

He proceeded to open the letter, finding to his dismay – or relief – that it was printed. Of course. No reading this one then. What a shame.


After yet another successful arrest, Matt was exchanging crucial information with Brett Mahoney, as they so often did these days. Out of all the police officers Matt trusted him the most, which is why his next action stung even more.

Matt was just about to slip into the shadows of a nearby alley when Mahoney raised his voice. "Oh, hey, one more thing." Matt stopped and half-turned his head to him as the Sergeant fished an envelope out of one of his suit's inside pockets. "I was asked to deliver this to you. From Bruce Banner." There was a hint of awe in his voice as he emphasized the name. "Looks like you're getting famous."

Matt turned to him, barely containing a sigh as he pressed his lips together. "Great," he said unenthusiastically and took the letter from him. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. But don't go off fighting aliens in space or whatever. We may still need you down here, you know, on occasion."

Matt offered him a smirk. "No need to worry about that, Sergeant."

He was somewhat surprised to find that Banner's handwriting was almost as horrible as his own. And that even despite the fact that the Avenger could actually see what he was writing. The guy was probably a doctor or something.

Right.


When Thor mingled with regular mortals, he stood out like a sore thumb. Therefore, Matt didn't even have to concentrate to realize that he somehow managed to always be in his vicinity during the entire length of his patrol; bar hopping, taking strolls and petting stray cats. That couldn't be a coincidence. He wanted something from Matt and the lawyer had a good guess as to what that was. Which is why he'd ignored him all night. But maybe facing the situation once would be less irritating than having a demigod follow him to every corner of Hell's Kitchen. So, toward the end of his patrol, and only to prevent him from repeating this behavior the next night, Matt stomped up to Thor who was currently sitting at a table outside a little café in the early morning hours, enjoying a huge bowl of ice cream.

"All right, what do you want?" Matt asked, every bit of the annoyance he was feeling seeping into his voice.

Thor on the other hand seemed absolutely delighted that he had approached him. "Devil of Dare! My shield brothers have bestowed me with the task of delivering a message to you." Expectedly, Thor held up an envelope. "We would be honored if you accepted our invitation."

Matt snatched the letter from his grasp. "Only if you stop following me around."

"I will grant you your wish once I've exterminated this delicious frozen dessert."

Matt just rolled his eyes and walked off, feeling a little guilty about intending to break his word. He also wondered if this was how Thor talked all the time or if he just aimed to be at his best behavior or something.


The letter that Foggy is currently holding in his hands came from none other than Captain America himself, who had just arrived on a rooftop a few yards away from the one Matt was perched on. The vigilante had his back turned toward him but that didn't stop the Avenger from hurling a Frisbee at him in true Captain America fashion. Matt was a little bewildered at the sheer velocity of the small object and that it didn't break when he expertly caught it with his outstretched left hand, the impact sending a subtle jab of pain through his wrist but doing nothing to make him come close to toppling over the edge. Thrown with this much power it could have ended up hurting someone or causing damage. Apparently Rogers was only used to throwing his vibranium shield.

Sensing the letter attached to the Frisbee's underside, Matt dropped his head in annoyance as he simultaneously heard Rogers say, "Whoa," which was almost an adequate compensation for the Harassment Of The Week™. Almost.

In one swift movement Matt grabbed the letter and pocketed it without any intention of reading it before hurling the Frisbee right back at Steve with his right hand, still not turning around. Steve actually caught it and mumbled, "I'm impressed."

Okay, maybe he was just showing off a bit. And maybe he wanted to tease his abilities without ever following up with a full demonstration or explanation. Maybe he also wanted them to know that he did, in fact, not need them.

Unfortunately, Foggy had other plans.

As Matt entered his apartment through a window, he sensed Foggy sitting on his couch, a freshly-brewed coffee on the living room table in front of him, and reading the newspaper. Today's newspaper, judging by the smell of fresh ink.

"Hey, Matt. Did you know the Avengers set up a base near Hell's Kitchen a few weeks ago? What do they want here?"

Matt shrugged his lips while taking off his gloves and said, "No clue."

Foggy lowered the newspaper to look at him and immediately spotted the piece of paper that was wrapped around one of his batons, sticking out of the sheath.

"What's that?" He indicated the incriminating item with his head.

"Nothing."

In a 'don't bullshit me' gesture, Foggy tilted his head and raised his eyebrows. "What did we agree upon? No more secrets."

Sighing in defeat, Matt handed him the letter.


Now, Foggy is wearing the same expression he did when he first read the invitation. "Matthew Michael Murdock, stop playing hard to get and parkour your ass over there!"

Matt hesitates for a moment, but then gives in. "If it makes you sleep better at night."

"It does, in fact," Foggy confirms, instantly more relaxed. "So, that's a yes then?"

"Well, you really don't leave me much of a choice."

"Great! All right. Time for the info dump." Foggy gets up and goes to retrieve Matt's laptop which he sets up on the living room table. "Here, let me tell you everything you need to know about the Avengers ex ante."

Matt proceeds to flop down on the couch next to him and takes off his mask as the corner of his mouth twitches. "You mean... I shouldn't go in blind?"

Foggy rolls his eyes and throws him a glance before opening a browser on the laptop. "Ha ha. Can't help you on the general front there, buddy. But I'll do what I can. Starting with the advice not to make terrible puns like that."

Matt scoffs. "They wouldn't know it's a pun."

"Well, even worse!"

Leaning back on the couch, Matt loosely gestures at the screen.

"You know I can read all that myself."

"I know but I'm your friend and I want to do something. Plus, I got some fun facts up my sleeve that you probably wouldn't be able to find on the internet."

On the inside, Matt is of course really glad that Foggy is keeping him company. Who needs the Avengers when he has him and Karen?

"Okay. Hit me."