Chapter Text
“Man, why even bother planning an entire invasion if you’re not even gonna be there?” Spider-Man mused as a web met the face of a robot that suspiciously resembled one Latverian doctor. "Like what, you couldn’t even take the time out of your crime schedule to be here?”
Matt felt the waves of a searing heat radiate behind him. “Yeah, I see it. Takes away the appeal of the whole ‘being a supervillain’ thing."
“Ha. If I had a bunch of robots that thought they were me, siccing them on New York is like the last thing I’d do. I could basically retire in peace. Imagine none of the grocery runs I’d have to make. I’d never have to run out in the middle of a lecture again.” Spider-Man performed a backflip over the incoming fist of a doombot, before sweeping his legs and bringing it to the ground. “Oh my God. The laundry, Johnny. The laundry. All that while saving a million people AND the added benefit of pissing Jameson off to an early grave. It's perfect!”
“Webs. Buddy. You do realise that multiple clones of yourself is probably the least crazy thing that’s ever happened to you,” A ‘flame on!’, and a grunt later- “And from what I remember it did not end with a Spider-Clone doing your laundry.”
At that, the webbed vigilante fell silent, his fist punching a doombot’s head clean off. The squint of his costumed eyes wasn’t hard to discern. “Man. And just for a second there I forgot that I was Spider-Man. Thanks.” Spider-Man's suited shoulders slumped sadly. “The burdens of being a hero. Really eats away at you. Don’t trust anybody, even yourself, all that.”
"New York’s too big for one Spider-Man anyway. That’s why there’s four of us.” Johnny paused thoughtfully. “You ever thought about being ‘The Spider-Man of Queens’?”
“Queens would rather run me out than even consider having a dedicated Spider-Man. Besides- running up the same, like I dunno, 5 blocks every day is probably in the top 10 of ‘Easiest Ways to Suck at Superhero-ing’.” He paused. “Uh, no offense Hornhead.”
“None taken.” Matt grunted. “Mind helping out here?” His billy club clang against the head of a doombot rather pathetically.
A pillar of flames scorched in front of him. Matt nodded. “Thanks Johnny.”
A salute. “Anytime,”
“Hey! A thanks from Daredevil. You know, you should be flattered. That’s a rarity even for my amazing self. Pun intended.”
Johnny groaned as Matt shook his head and surrendered his senses onto the ongoing fight around them. He respected the webbed vigilante; he considered him one of his greatest allies. He would even go so far as to say he was one of his greatest friends (which was saying something considering his whole vigilante image didn’t really do friends). He usually didn’t get so ticked off at his constant mouthing. It was part of his charm. And it was kind of funny.
Sometimes.
There was only so much quipping he could take; and with the presence of Johnny Storm—aka his greatest enabler-- Matt didn’t know how much more of the back and forth he could take. And Matt was not an impatient man by any stretch of the word. He was a lawyer for a reason.
Still, Matt thought as he swung over the hordes of machine operated fingers clutching at his soles; it didn’t mean that the dynamic duo couldn’t alleviate his overloaded senses, just a little, did it?
There wasn’t all that much Daredevil could do presently, anyway. Storm Jr. and Spider-Man seemed to be handling themselves fine, if their banter was indicative of anything.
The doombots were quickly familiarising themselves with the heroes of New York, and it was a testament to how well designed they were that they were somehow *beating them* within the last hour that they appeared out of thin air. The sounds of synchronised mechanical ticking couldn’t have come at a worse time; Matt was right in the middle of a meeting with a client. A few muttered excuses and the loss of a cane later, Matt was soon fighting a robot invasion.
Because of course he was.
He wished that Richards and Doom solved their own misgivings with each other without putting the lives of the not-so scientifically inclined in jeopardy. Matt had a court hearing on Friday after all. And team-ups were not Daredevil’s forte.
Matt was the one to make the point that Daredevil wasn’t a team player anyway, though he was flattered by the invested interest Captain America took when he invited him on board the Avengers.
The few and very brief team-ups he’d had over the years, seemed enough proof to him at least that team-ups, weren’t a feasible future for the resident vigilante of Hell’s Kitchen. The invitation was considered, but denied, and eventually forgotten, like the discarded teams he had once been a part of.
There was, of course, the obvious and very glaring issue that stared Matt in the face, which was something even he couldn’t miss. Even with all the training the decrepit old man beat into him- there was no denying that a martial artist, didn’t seem that impressive right next to a God, a super soldier, a tech billionaire with more money that he had any right etcetera, etcetera. That fact was making its presence known right now.
Matt could hear the whirring inside of the doombots, the meticulous craftmanship speaking for itself in the form of wires and synthesised intelligence. But what he couldn’t hear was the blood, the sweat, laboured breaths or hell even a heartbeat. He couldn’t predict the swings or the energy blasts, and he couldn’t predict the intelligence of the literal smartest man on Earth. He was no Hank Pym.
No, he was Matt Murdock; the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen...
And he was definitely going to need a visit to the ER after this.
“Double-D! Watch ou-!”
It was the exact millisecond that this thought flitted through his mind, when he was met with a face full of Doom, mid-swing, and—may God forgive his blasphemy—but Jesus fucking Christ-
His back hit the concrete below him, and a scream ripped from his chest. The taste of pennies immediately hit his tongue and pervaded his senses. The smell of copper made itself comfortable in his throat.
“You!” And then suddenly, Matt could feel a rush of air over him. “Shame you didn’t get a degree in medicine, von Doom! Maybe then you could go make yourself a cure from the total ass kicking I just dealt!”
“Not your best, man. Even I gotta admit.”
“Aww, Johnny! I’m positively heartbroken! You love my spider-quips!”
“Even the doombot didn’t like that one.”
“No, no, I see where you’re coming from. I should save that one- for when Doom decides not to be a total wuss and show up-”
Radar sense. Matt quickly schooled his senses on the sound of a hulking piece of metal stirring. Then it sounded like something…charging up? Matt’s eyes widened. Shit. It was right behind Johnny.
He didn’t even have the chance to open his mouth to sound a warning before the screeches of a high-energy blast hit Storm directly in the back.
“JOHNNY!”
Matt could hear the electricity flowing through Johnny’s body, the spasms of his muscles filling him with a sense of dread. He was still alive, but Matt couldn’t imagine the pain that was searing through his nerves. One down.
“Bastard!” Spider-Man yelled. He leapt from Matt’s side, charging at the machine. “I’m gonna rip off your stupid robot arm and shove it up so far up your metal rectum you-!”
A loud clang rang in Matt’s ears, and the world around him seemed to blur, the lines and figures in his mind, almost wobbling to the sound of metal. Matt vaguely heard a choked off yell from where Spider-Man was, arms struggling and hitting the metal arm crushed against his throat. Matt’s legs shook relentlessly underneath him.
Fuck. He couldn’t. Focus. The ringing shot a searing pain right through his head, digging relentlessly into his ear, and into his brain, and God- he couldn’t even think. Matt sucked in a sharp breath, his ribs aching, and swallowed the blood pooling in his mouth, the stench of metal weighing heavily on his tongue.
His arms hung limply by his sides, and he had to force his aching limbs to move, his hands gripping uselessly at his two sticks, and that looming sense of helplessness was once again sinking its claws into his back.
His fists gripped tighter. As much as he wanted to laugh at the irony of the situation—and Foggy always hated his sense of humour—he couldn’t really see a way out of this one.
But when did he ever let that stop him?
He heaved a breath; and directed his radar inwards.
He was the man without fear; and if there was one thing he didn’t fear, it certainly wasn’t death. If he could draw the bot’s attention to him, then maybe that could give the Spider-Man enough time to get to his feet and destroy the vital parts of the bot. Shit plan. Not even a well thought out one but...His senses echoed the figure of the doombot and Spider-Man's choked off murmurs; and from the rapidly slowing heartbeat thundering in his ears, Matt only had so much time to come to a head.
He supposed his defiance of fear bordered on stupidity at times, something Foggy loved reminding him of. “The Man Without Brains,” he called him. Matt’s smirk was rife with red, staining his teeth.
And then he ran.
Something exploded.
The world around him dissipated into a shadowy void, the world on fire extinguishing its flame; and suddenly Matt was ten years old again, the scent of antiseptic hanging in the air, he was writhing in a hospital bed, the smell of burning flesh gnawing at his senses- his face feels like its burning, and everything hurts, and he just wants to die, his dad- where is he? - the world’s too loud-he can’t see-
His throat constricted.
The ringing screeched even louder, high pitched in his ears, gnawing at his insides.
He couldn’t see.
Matt felt his hands towards the side of his head, his billy clubs disappearing God knows where. His mouth opened, and he felt his throat rasp, and then nothing.
Matt could feel the rough asphalt under him as his knees gave out underneath, and then he was nothing but a blind man heaving on the streets of New York.
Then he felt something on his shoulder. A feeling of dread stirred in his gut, but then touch turned into something familiar. A hand worn with callouses, hidden under layers of leather. The grip tightened. Those hands came to the sides of his head now, and Matt could feel the air moving directly in front of his face. The smell of gun oil, ash and pennies, willed his racing heart to slow to a calm steady beat.
Asshole.
Matt wasn’t sure how long his senses were surrendered to the ever long ringing in his ears, but the flames of his world were stoked once more. The fires licked at the figure of a man, and Matt couldn’t help the sense of relief- even if the more rational part of him spoke otherwise.
“Jesus, fuck- Murdock, I didn’t think-”
Underlying Frank’s muttered mutterings, the ringing sang high-pitched in his ears. Matt gave a full-body flinch, his words hurting more than helping. At that, Frank’s stream of words came to a halt. When the quiet became too much to bear, Matt was the one who broke it. “That your idea of help, Frank?”
A grunt. “Can still leave your senseless ass here if you want,”
“Yeah? And whose fault is that?” Matt snapped.
“Think a ‘thank you’ would suffice, Murdock.”
“...Thanks.” Matt spat out after much deliberation. It was only fair after all. Frank gave another grunt, but at least this time Frank wasn’t about to kick him in the ribs for his snarking.
“What was that, anyway?” Matt asked. He tilted his head to the side, willing his senses to adjust back to some semblance of normalcy. Damn that ringing.
“EMP. Spiked the doombots’ electronic wiring. Can’t speak for every one of those things crawling all over the place, but the ones in this area should be disabled.”
Matt tilted his head further. No ticking. His eyebrows shot up. “That’s...really advanced.”
“You could say that.”
Matt’s eyes narrowed and his lips set into a thin line. Matt knew that he didn’t even need to say anything for Frank to know that he wasn’t happy. They’ve done this enough times to know how the other was going to react; and wasn’t it weird, how that worked out?
Frank’s chuckle rumbled in chest, lighting up the rest of his body. “If you know what’s good for you altar boy, you’d leave it at that. Long and short of it-- Fury Jr. ain’t gonna be too happy.”
Matt rolled his eyes. Of course. Frank always knew how to piss off the wrong people. “This marks...what, the third time?”
“Fourth actually,” he said, refusing to elaborate further. Matt could detect the pride tinging his voice.
Matt let out a groan. “No wonder he loves you,”
“Yeah. Miss the company of old Senior though. ‘Least he doesn’t lecture me every time we cross paths. Straightforward guy. Lot to like.”
“You know for a fact that I wouldn’t need to lecture you, if you just stayed in jail and repented instead of breaking out and shooting every incarcerated person-”
“Putting it too lightly. Call ‘em what they are. Murderers. Rapists. Criminals. Scum. Always using that lawyer-speak of yours even in costume, hm?”
Matt could feel a migraine coming on. As much as he enjoyed their little debates, he wasn’t sure if he was really in the mood to engage with several broken ribs and a killer headache. And from the shift of his head, Frank seemed to recognise that fact.
“Shit- Murdock, you alright there?”
“I’m fine, I just...need a ride back,” he hissed. “And don’t call me that here.” Matt’s attention snapped to a specific wall crawler. If the deep inhales and the steady struggle gasps for air behind Frank was any indicator, the following exchange wasn’t going to be...pleasant, to put it mildly.
“Shame that wasn’t the real von Doom, huh CASTLE?! Real unlucky for your psychotic ass! Maybe your murdering crusade isn’t going so well for you after all!” sniped the voice accusatorially. With all the gasping he was doing however, it probably wasn’t as effective as he liked.
Frank straightened. “Bugboy. Pleasure.”
“Not technically a bug! They’re arachnids! Two different things!” he yelped. “Not a boy, either!”
Frank scoffed. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
“If you think I’m even close to thanking you, you got another thing coming, Castle.”
“Really? Looked to me you and the choirboy here had a few problems troubleshooting,”
“Yeah well you should’ve looked harder. We totally had that under control, no criminal interference necessary.” Spider-Man paused. “Er. More criminal than what we were dealing with already. Cause you’re a murderer. Who murders people.”
“Thanks.”
“Not a compliment!”
Matt sighed. “Spider-Man...”
“No! I’m not owing this guy any favours D! Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll just get right back to getting choked by von Doom and getting out of it myself!”
“Be my guest. You want the tin can to pummel the flaming Boy Scout over there, I can do that for you too.” Frank jabbed a thumb provocatively at Johnny’s still unconscious body.
Spider-Man shoved the hunk of metal pinning him on the ground and shot to his feet. He practically sped towards Frank. “If anyone’s getting a pummelling it’s gonna be you, you filthy murdering piece of-!”
Matt took that as his cue to shakily stand to his feet. Frank’s hand gripped on his waist, and he looped his arm over his shoulder, keeping him steady. Matt gave a silent thanks as he straightened. “Spider-Man. I would’ve died if it wasn’t for him. We all would have. I don’t like it either-” and Frank gave an affected scoff to that, “but we owe it to him.”
Spider-Man's protests died then and there, but Matt could still feel the anger in the clench of his fists.
“We’re lucky to be in his good graces this time,” Matt smiled. “I sensed he wanted to kick me in the ribs earlier. But thanks to his generosity, he didn’t. Isn’t that right, Frank?” He turned to him and gave his best shit eating grin.
“Jesus Christ...” Frank said, shaking his head.
“Blasphemy, Frank.”
“Whatever. What difference is there? I ain’t in the Big Man’s good graces anyway.”
“That’s not true…” Matt said sadly.
“No, no. Castle’s right. Pretty sure it’s the only time he’s *been* right.”
Matt set a glare in Spider-Man’s direction. Well, he tried to. He could’ve been staring at the wall behind him for all he knew. Thanks Frank.
There was a silence on Spider-Man’s end before he huffed incredulously. “…The only reason why I’m not webbing you up right now, *Castle*, is ‘cause I respect my friends’ wishes, even if they are completely insane. And hang out with equally insane guys.”
Matt could feel the heat of Frank's glare. He also heard Spider-Man’s ensuing gulp. Perfect.
“Um. Anyways. You should really get going Punisher. Unless you wanna catch these Spider-Hands.” Spider-Man said weakly.
“Duly noted.” Frank said as he unceremoniously shoved Matt into Spider-Man's arms. Matt quickly let himself back onto the ground. “Make yourself useful and get him to a hospital. You don’t want him bleeding all over you. He’s not as formidable as you or the Storm brother.”
Matt was offended. “I’m a big boy, Frank. I’m pretty sure I can keep my blood where it’s supposed to be.”
“Not what happened last night if I remember correct.” Frank grinned.
Matt huffed. “I was fine. I had it under control.”
“You had to sleep in my bed.” Matt wanted to punch him in the face for that one, but he couldn’t on account of Matt lounging on the soft, comfortable concrete below. He gave a full head-eye-roll instead. Yeah. That would show him.
What happened last night, was Matt: injured and covered in his own blood after a particularly horrific encounter with Mr. and Mrs. Bullseye. He just barely managed to get away and stumble into some random warehouse, which unfortunately happened to be one of Frank’s safe houses. He had to put aside his pride and he maybe had to ask for a bit of help. Just a little bit. Like he said, he totally had it under control. Matt wasn’t a stranger to (begrudgingly) needing Frank’s help, but more often than not, it was a last resort. Frank witnessing Matt’s moments of vulnerability, and Matt having to put his trust in him, no matter how easy it was, was definitely not worth the teasing. Especially not in front of Spider-Man. How was he supposed to respect Matt now?
As if on cue, Spider-Man made a sound of disgust. “Oh my God! Not in front of the baby! My poor ears.”
“Frank’s just making up tall tales, Spider-Man. Don’t listen to him.”
“Sure, keep yer pride in check. Doesn’t erase the truth.” Frank scoffed as he walked past. He bent down to scavenge for his discarded weapons lying on the ground. Matt, very silently, flipped him off and gave a smirk in Spider-Man’s direction. He heard Spider-Man snicker, but it died in his throat as soon as he sensed Frank giving a glance over his shoulder. “By the way, you free this Friday Red?” Frank asked.
Matt finally managed to lift himself up from the ground with the help of his billy club, and he tipped his face to the sky for a few seconds before tipping it back down. “What date is that? The fourteenth?” Matt thought for a moment. He couldn’t say he wasn’t busy. Between his lawyer work— which he was swamped with, way more than usual— and his vigilante work, he didn’t really have a lot of free time for whatever it was Frank wanted to discuss. But from Frank’s abnormally speeding heartbeat in his ears and the weirdly heated rush of blood towards his cheeks— Frank must’ve been way more winded from that fight than Matt thought he was— then whatever it was seemed to be really important. “I guess. Why?” What mission was Frank planning on now?
Frank scoffed. “Got something to discuss with you. In private.”
“Awww, planning a date with the Punisher Double-D? You guys finally having the ‘what are we’ talk?”
Matt squinted. “Shut up.”
Spider-Man gasped a little bit too theatrically for Matt’s liking. “How am I supposed to shut up when I’m witnessing such a beautiful display of-“ A loud whoosh and a clang took place of whatever he was going to say.
“Dude, Castle! I was joking!” Spider-Man yelled. “What the fuck was that hammer for?”
“Devil told you to shut up.” Frank shrugged.
“I’m honoured.” Matt said. He made sure to sound as sarcastic as possible. “Thank you, Frank.”
“Awww D, are you this guy’s keeper or something? That’s so cute-“ a gunshot this time. “ALRIGHT, I GET IT MAN! Watch where you’re aiming that thing!”
“I aim fine.”
“Well! That’s not terrifying at all.” Spider-Man drawled. “What if my brains got blown out, huh?”
“Eh. Your spider senses knew it was coming, didn’t they?”
“Uh yeah, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings!” Spider-Man sounded way more hurt than Matt had ever heard him.
Frank barked a laugh, but to Matt’s ears it sounded more like a huff and a growl mixed into one unholy amalgamation. “Yer funny, Bug boy.”
“Man this is like, the one time I’m trying *not* to be, is getting shot point blank all that funny?”
“It’s hilarious.”
Spider-Man steeled towards Matt. “DD, remind me to never mess with the Punisher ever again.”
“He’s just joking.” Matt reassured with a smile. Matt hit Frank on the arm for good measure. “Weren’t you, Frank?”
“Sure.” Frank replied with a scowl. “‘n I only let you do that cause I’m in a good mood today.”
“Could’ve had me fooled. This guy’s lovely sneer just looks absolutely jovial. Do you even see his face right now, D?”
No, Matt didn’t say.
“Whatever.” Frank said.
That seemed to be the end of *that* conversation. Frank hunched over and strapped his rifle and equipment to his body. Then, he turned to offer a wave. “Be seeing you, Red.”
Matt grinned. “I won’t.” For as much as Matt wanted to smack him upside the head for his horrific display of passive aggression against Spider-Man, he did a good job of playing (relatively) nice this time around. He could respect that. Maybe not everything else but small victories, you know?
“Little shit.” Frank grumbled as Spider-Man made a noise of confusion. Then he walked off to God knows where, his heart’s thumping slowly becoming less audible in Matt’s ears.
“Hate to see you go, love to watch you leave!” Spider-Man yelled at Frank’s retreating back. The moment Frank’s heartbeat disappeared from Matt’s range was also, coincidentally, the point Spider-Man started freaking out.
“I never thought I’d see the day!” Spider-Man whistled. “Frank ‘The Punisher’ Castle, a charity case.” But then he angled his head in Matt’s direction. “Though he always seems to play that move whenever you’re around.”
Matt tilted his head and a deep frown creased his features. “What do you mean?”
Spider-Man floundered for a moment, before he schooled himself into a (mostly coherent) state of mind. “You’re like, the only person I’ve seen him talk to. Willingly. Last time we talked face to face, it was with the whole deal with...what I did to Massacre,” And at that, he fell silent. If the building rhythm in his ears was anything to go by, Spider-Man seemed to have some difficulty in admitting that fact, even to himself. Sore subject.
“…Anyways, the guy decided the best way to have a Super Serious Man-to-Man was to throw a flashbang right in my face. Which, uh, yeah didn’t go so well.” Spider-Man scratched the back of his neck.“Then for some reason, he decided that was the perfect time to lay some old Punisher Wisdom on me. With his boot on my neck. While I was writhing on the ground in agony, might I add.”
Matt’s frown deepened. He would have to talk to Frank about that later. So much for playing nice. “And what did he say?”
“I couldn’t tell you even if I wanted to. I wasn’t really…all there at that point. But you know what? I don’t even blame him. I’d be a bit shy if I was in the same the room as *this guy*,”
“I’m sure the Daily Bugle would have a few things to say about that,”
“Well sheesh, sorry that I don’t have a *Urich* backing my every move.”
“I don’t control what he says.” Matt rolled his eyes.
“Boo hoo. If you don’t want him, give him to me. I’d gladly give you Jameson any time of the day,”
“…I’ll pass.”
“You’re welcome. Now, as token of your appreciation you gotta put in a good word for your Spider-Buddy next time good ol’ Benjamin decides to ride your meat.” Spider-Man heaved a sigh. “….Which is probably gonna be tomorrow. I’ll, like, have a halfway decent morning, read the paper, and find out I’m apparently a terrorist for saving all of New York.”
“I’ll put in a good word for you.” Matt shook his head with a curve on his lips. “Go get yourself patched up. As a bonus, I’ll give Frank a warning on how he decides to exercise his jurisdiction next time I drop by. It's up to him if he wants to listen. Can’t promise anything.”
The thudding in Spider-Man's chest seemed to stop for a moment.
“Right…” and the lilt in his voice betrayed nothing, enough of a hint to clue Matt in. “The next time you visit our buddy Frank Castle?” and Matt couldn’t say he was a fan of the tone Spider-Man was talking.
Matt’s frown returned. “It’s complicated. He’s…well. He’s Frank,” Matt heard Spider-Man snort at that one. He continued. “…But he’s helped me on a few occasions, and vice versa. I drop by once in a while to talk business. It’s easy with him. He already knows my identity so-”
“Woah, woah, woah!” The air around Spider-Man dispersed. “You’re telling me you decided to tell the frigging Punisher your secret identity, and not me?! Your best superhero friend?!”
His frown deepened. “Well it’s not like I wanted him to know,” he huffed, offended. Seriously, who did Spider-Man think he was? “Besides, he’s the one that figured it out.” under *very* unscrupulous means; but Matt wasn’t about to explain that any time soon.
Spider-Man paused his arm waving and went stock still. “Wh-?!”
“Long story,” Matt dismissed with a wave of his hand. “I trust he won’t do anything dire with it.” Matt doesn’t mention the ungodly amount of times Frank apparently thought it would be funny to call the office landline. That time he had to dive across the towers of files sitting on his desk to stop Foggy’s speeding hand was one of his more...undignified moments. It ended with a rare chuckle in his ears and Foggy berating him for pulling his ‘crazy ass ninja stunts’ during work. Also for all the reorganisation Matt had to do; because Foggy was resolutely, not helping him with all that—even with the puppy dog eyes Matt gave him, no thank you.
At that he vaguely heard Spider-Man say the Punisher has you on speed dial? but that was neither here nor there.
“I already know the location of every safehouse he has in Queens anyway, so it’s only fair-”
“He has safe houses in Queens?!”
Matt flinched, his ears still sensitive from Frank’s stunt earlier. His lips thinned. “Yeah. The ones I know of, anyway; but they’re pretty much everywhere. Why?”
Spider-Man made a noise that was halfway between drowning and what Matt could deduce, an impressive impression of a choking duck. Then he sighed.
“You know what? I shouldn’t even be surprised- I mean it makes sense- the safehouse thing I mean- you and Castle were a given, so I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised, but wow, I just thought they were rumours you know?” Ha. Matt smiled. There he goes, babbling like always- wait what? Rumours?
“Like, what, infamous mass murderer Frank Castle is banging my buddy, Daredevil? That’s crazy!”
What.
“After that though, I actually started paying attention to you two and I thought, man, maybe those rumours weren’t so far off the mark?”
Huh?
“But the more I thought about it, the more I was all, ‘How would that even work?’ then I thought about me and Black Cat and then it suddenly made a lot more sense- but still-”
Spider-Man's words suddenly became a blur in Matt’s mind, blending in with the multitudes of sounds of New York City.
Matt smiled politely.
“Sorry, for a second I thought you said that Castle and I were together,” and Matt couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him, because *come on*. “I guess his little bomb did more to my hearing than I thought,”
Spider-Man's rambling came to a full stop.
“But...I did.”
Through his strangled laughter Matt managed to breathe out a “What?”
His next statement was phrased more like a question. “You guys are dating,”
Matt’s smile didn’t leave his face.
Hahaha. Spider-Man had managed to get the head on him on a few occasions. This time however, he wouldn’t fall for it and look like an idiot. Nope.
“Ever the comedian, Spider-Man. Can we move on now?” Matt gritted out. Spider-Man was joking as always, except this time the joke wasn’t funny. At all. It was as funny as Matt’s dating life. So yeah, not funny at all.
He heard the muscles in his right shoulder work, and from the movement, Matt parsed it as a shrug. Spider-Man's heart rate was through the roof, and he practically felt the cold sweat on the back of his neck. Whatever he was about to say-- Matt concluded- Spider-Man felt that it would smite him on the spot. By either God or Matt himself, he couldn’t tell.
He gave an awkward cough. “Hate to keep offending you, uh, DD but anyone with working eyes can see that- you and the Punisher...kind of got a thing going on.”
And Matthew Michael Murdock, in all his elegance, flagrantly unhinged his jaw wide open, closed it after thinking better of it; and then he flapped it open once more for good measure.
He managed to stutter out a very coherent, very poignant: “What?”
Spider-Man looked at him in disbelief. “Dude, you can’t be serious, right? Even Tony has a file on you being, like, the only mask that the Punisher even wants to associate with. And I’m the one with the displeasure of running into him like all the time. With how much I’ve had to work with him you’d think we’d be right as rain, but I’m pretty sure he’s got a vendetta on us well-adjusted folks. Not to call you insane, D, but, well, you kind of are for hanging out with….him.”
Him. And Frank. A…a thing?
Ha.
Hahahahaha.
And look okay, even if Matt looked insane for doing so, he couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of him at that moment, because really.
Really???
Matt was pretty sure that this was the most that he’s ever laughed in the last decade or however long they’ve known each other, because he could feel the discomfort emanating from Spider-Man. Surely- surely that wasn’t the basis for the apparent rumours, was it? Wow. He really needed to have that talk with Frank. He could already imagine Castle’s bemused huffs.
“Spider-Man, you-that's ridiculous, he doesn’t hate any of you,” and Matt has to will himself to calm down, else he’ll have a fit right then and there. “Castle--Frank, it’s the opposite. He respects you; he respects all of you, even if that sounds hard to believe.” Matt could hear Spider-Man go slack, but Matt continued before he could resume his floundering. “Look, you said he threw a flashbang at you? He probably only did that because he didn’t want to be seen with you, or have you turn him into the police—It's- he wanted to prove a point. What happened with Massacre, I bet he told you that you didn’t want to end up like him, to not cross the line, was that it?”
At that Spider-Man fell silent. He pressed on.
“Frank…he cares; and I am aware that it might sound like complete lunacy to you, and I’m sure the Avengers wouldn’t hesitate to say otherwise. Call it half-assed armchair psychology like I know you will, but it’s just that Frank is an idiot and can never be honest and,” A smile creeped up on Matt’s lips. “He has a soft spot for you, and every person like you. Like I said; he’s... a complicated man. I had to learn that the hard way."
The memory of a prison break flitted through his memory. Always at his lowest point, and Frank never failed to show up. Wonder what that said about him?
“He just...he needs help, and that’s what I’ve been trying to give him. He’ll never stop what he’s doing, and I hate what he does, believe me. It goes against everything I believe in. But he knows me, you know? Better than most. Everyone needs a second chance, a chance to do something good, I mean, he’s helped me, and I believe Frank can do better, if you just-just give him that,” Matt’s words petered out into silence.
Though Matt had to argue cases every day of his life, apparently it took defending Frank Castle’s honour— and Matt never thought he’d have to do that of all things— in front of one of his greatest allies that made him begin doubting himself. God, he didn’t think he felt this nervous since his first tort.
Spider-Man crossed his arms and tilted his head to the side. The silence stretched on.
“I dunno, you don’t exactly run someone over with a steamroller out of respect,”
Matt’s shoulders shook with laughter. “Yeah, I guess not,”
“Or put ‘em in a room full of explosives, or fill ‘em with explosives,”
Matt could sense each finger being raised with each new addition to Spider-Man's list of ‘Things Frank Castle Has Done to Piss Off Every Superhero Ever’.
“Or run off and go around LARPing as Rhodey, or piss off Nick Fury Jr. *and* Sr.-, or heck Squirrel Girl—Do I have to keep going? With everything he’s done to us, most especially moi, you know better than most--”
"I get it, Spider-Man. I still stand by my point,”
Incredulity was rolling off Spider-Man in waves.
“You.” He pointed at him. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“When have I ever not been?” Matt said.
Spider-Man scoffed. “No-yeah, you and Castle got the tall, dark, mean, and brooding thing down tit for tat. Really miss when you used to have a sense of humour, you know?”
“I do have a sense of humour; I just don’t think Frank and I propositioning each other is particularly hilarious.”
Spider-Man pffhted. “You ever met that Marvel kid? From what Spider-Man Jr.’s told me, she is NOT messing around with that crap. Apparently, you guys rank number 2 on her list, right after, like, Cap and The Winter Soldier. Or was it Magneto and the Professor...”
Matt thought that Elektra’s death was the worst thing that could’ve happened to him. Evidently it was not.
Ms. Marvel. Him. And Frank. And. Just how far had this rumour (which became more and more of a tangible reality that Matt did not want to acknowledge) gone? So far that apparently even the younger heroes found time to shoot the shit about it? And....and... Could he sue for defamation? Slander? Client, Daredevil on the stand, represented by legal genius Matthew Murdock, suing all of New York’s resident heroes for the criminal offense of spreading lies on the alleged happenings of his sex life with infamous mass murderer, the Punisher. The greatest court case of the century- only beaten out by sheer stupidity.
“She...what?” Matt strained.
Silence.
“…I probably shouldn’t have said that, huh?”
“*Spider-Man*.”
“OK! Well, I’m gonna take that as my cue to leave! I’ll just give you a minute to…process…all that.”
“Wai-“
“Got to get going then!” Spider-Man said a bit stiffly. He made his way over to Johnny’s currently breathing, yet very limp body, heaved him into his arms, and with that, Spider-Man webbed his way across New York, Fantastic Four member in tow, back to the Baxter building.
Which left Matthew Michael Murdock, slack jawed on the streets of New York City by his lonesome, utterly dumbfounded.
---
“And then, man, he went into this whole thing about Castle, and let me just say, you do not defend someone like that if you’re not knocking boots,”
Johnny huffed a laugh. “Dude. That’s probably why he likes him so much,”
“Right? Man, if I took a shot every time, I had to listen to Logan complain about the Punisher every time we’re out,” A shudder ran down his spine. “I literally couldn’t get drunk enough to blank on his whining. But you get what I mean.”
“Sounds tragic.”
“Because it is.”
“Nah dude, but I get it. Sue’s always up my ass when I suck a little bit more than usual,”
“Ewww. ‘You’ and ‘sucking’ is not something I have ever wanted to imagine.”
“Oh ho, Webs, what ever do you mean?”
“Again. Ew.” A scoff. “But anyways, I meant, that you gotta take me to dinner first because beating creepy robot clones of your brother-in-law and sister’s ex is a great way to bring on the post-battle munchies.”
“Sal’s on 45th?”
“Only if you’re paying,”
“I don’t know if Doom hit you harder than usual, but dinner was your idea.”
“That may be true. But get this! I’m broke. So...”
“Or you’re just saying that because you’re a cheapskate and you hate your friends. Even the really cool ones. With cool haircuts.”
“Heh. You mean hot?”
“Flattery will get you some places, webhead. But not my wallet.”
“Oh yeah, ‘cause the New York public knows you’re just barely scraping by in your entire friggin’ glass tower dedicated to how totally awesome you are.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re thinking of the Cho guy. Your day job not pay you or something, webs? Need me to flame your boss?”
“Don’t you dare! He’d survive out of sheer force of will; and then somehow find a way to pin the blame on me because he’s fuelled on hate and joy courtesy of my suffering. Then he’d make me do a coffee run. Ugh great. Now you’ve pissed me off with this hypothetical. Thanks, Storm. ”
“Uh, you’re welcome?”
Spider-Man mutters under his breath. “Of course your nepo baby ass wouldn’t even begin to understand-”
Matt Murdock didn’t miss Spider-Man’s muttering on account of his enhanced senses, of course; but if the enraged shouts that followed were any indicator, Johnny Storm didn’t need super-hearing to get the general idea.
That was the point Matt tuned them out. He let their chatter fade into the endless noise of Hell’s Kitchen, their words still echoing in his head. He leaned back into his chair, the endless amount of court documents, files, and schedules forgotten.
He sighed. He really needed to have that talk with Frank sooner or later.