[ Matt isn't even conscious when the decision is made to remove him from the church's care, although somewhere deep in his mind, he's aware of a familiar presence taking him to an unfamiliar place. It's mostly painkillers and his body's desperate need to heal that are keeping him from waking, however. So as the discomfort starts to assert itself again, his mind's need to understand what's going on pushes to the surface.
Smell greets him first. His hearing is partly muffled by a ringing in his ears that makes it difficult to focus on individual sounds, but his nose is working well enough. ]
Cigars... [ Voice rasping from disuse, he mumbles his way to full consciousness, a figure from the past rising up from his memory. ] Mr. Howlett?
God, [ there's a hint of a laugh there, somewhere ] I forgot how sensitive your nose was.
[ Typical bedside manner would assume a gasp and relieved joy when a coma patient got up, but Matt had never smelled like he was in trouble. He'd just smelled like he needed rest.
Now he's up-- even if that's in the most basic sense of the word-- and Logan puts the cigar out into the ash tray he'd taken with him to sit by the window. ]
Sorry about the smell, kid. [ Pause. ] You want water?
[ It hurts to smile -- it hurts to breathe -- but he does it anyway. Logan's presence there makes no sense at all, but he's grateful for it. The man always had a way of making Matt feel safe. ]
It's New York. [ Meaning he smells worse things on a daily basis. ] Please?
[ He'll get around to finding out what's going on, why he's apparently in the care of a man he hasn't spoken to in years, soon enough. But even his curiosity is telling Matt to take it slow. ]
I told you I didn't age much. [ He's speaking from the kitchen, but he knows Matt's going to hear him, just as he can hear Matt's breathing if he really focuses on him (and Logan's been focusing on nothing but him since this all started, fucking worried as he was).
When he returns, he has a glass of water with him. It's not cold, but he figures lukewarm is probably better on the throat, anyway.
Logan moves, slipping his hand beneath Matt's back, and helps him sit up before holding the glass to his lips. ] C'mon, Matty.
I remember. [ It had taken a while to build the necessary trust between them, but Logan is one of the few people in the world who understands the extent of Matt's abilities. The knowledge that he won't have to pretend, or worry about doing something too 'weird' to be easily explained, is a relief.
As is the few swallows of water he manages, soothing on his dry throat. Matt grimaces in pain as he moves, but pain is a familiar enough sensation. At least he's alive to feel it.
[ Logan puts Matt back down once he's done drinking, setting the glass on the bedside table. ] I was looking something up.
[ He doesn't mention that it was the Hand, nor does he mention that he'd come across an iteration of them in Japan when he'd spent the year there about half a decade ago. That's not something Matt has to worry about now, though he makes a mental note to tell him later. ]
Then I heard about what you and your people did. Tracked you down.
You're a reckless bastard, [ he shrugs, sitting on the edge of the bed, and though it dips quite a bit under Logan's weight (hilarious), he offers Matt a small smile ] but you did good, Daredevil.
[ Matt will be sure to press for more information on that 'something'; he can tell Logan is holding back. But small steps seem the way to go for now, while he's still processing simply being alive.
The mention of the others he'd teamed up with sends a jolt of worry through him, and as Logan sits, he reaches for the man's hand. ]
They made it, right? They're safe?
[ Despite his concern, he smiles up at Logan, deeply touched by the words of approval. Words he's desperately wanted to hear since he put on the mask. ] Did I?
You did. [ Logan squeezes the hand in his own. ] And they are.
The one with the fist is taking care of your city, even. [ He tilts his head. ] I think.
[ In truth, he hasn't been paying attention much to the news since finding Matt at all. But God, it's good to see him-- and seeing him here, like this, makes him feel a little terrible for taking so long to visit again since college.
But a lot of things have happened in the span of twelve years. Logan's just now understanding that those things hadn't just been happening for him. ]
...sorry if I surprised you, appearing out of nowhere. [ He smiles slightly, wryly. ] I promise I'm not a fever dream.
[ It's like a knot he hadn't realized was even inside him has been untangled, releasing all of the fear and sadness that had been unconsciously growing. His new friends are all right, his city is recovering...
...and one of the most important people in his life has turned up again. It's the reunion his childhood self would have wished for with Stick, except that Logan has always accepted and valued Matt in a way that the old mentor never did. ]
I did wonder that for a minute. [ He inhales and then slow exhales, letting the rest of his tension escape with the breath. ] So you know about Daredevil?
[ It's hard to keep secrets from Charles Xavier. Even harder when you're a kid with the favour of Wolverine.
But more than Cerebro, and more than Charles' powers, it doesn't take a genius to figure out who the Devil of Hell's Kitchen is. Remembering Matt when he was younger, Logan would've been more surprised if this hadn't been his path.
I should've come sooner plays on his tongue, soft and awkward and laden with guilt. He doesn't let it come out.
Instead, ] Think I like Matt Murdock more, though.
[ Of course he knows, and however that may have occurred, Matt's glad for it. After all these years, he doesn't want to start keeping secrets from Logan.
There's a hesitation in the man, though, a sorrow that's telegraphed through their clasped hands. Matt squeezes gently, trying to offer the same reassurance that Logan has been giving him. ]
You don't know Matt Murdock these days. Might change your mind about that. [ Like Matt himself has. ]
Well, [ he smiles a bit, head dipping ] I've been told I'm a stubborn son of a bitch.
You good to eat? [ Their fingers link, and the fact that Matt's are big enough-- thick enough-- to really press against Logan's own is something he notices almost acutely. They're so much rougher now, too, made more obvious by the fact that Logan's hand is as smooth as it always has been. ] I can make you something.
I mean, [ he shrugs ] it'll be shit, but I can make you something.
Can't imagine who would tell you that. [ Except for everybody who's ever met the man. The two of them always had that in common, though.
It's funny how natural and easy it feels, having Logan there after years of absence. The hand that used to dwarf his is like an anchor to the world, and Matt realizes that for the first time in a while, he honestly feels like things are going to be okay. ]
Soup? [ Eating is still exhausting, and his appetite seems to have taken a vacation anyway. Something that doesn't take any effort.
[ "Effort" makes him huff a laugh. ] Kid, be as bad as me in a kitchen and everything takes effort.
[ But Logan lets Matt's hand go without further complaint, rising from the bed (and trying not to pay attention to how much the side he'd been sitting on rises as well when all three hundred pounds of him are gone).
A little more gently, he promises, ] I'll make it quick.
[ Then he heads to the kitchen. Soon enough there's the sound of washing and the sound of cutting and slicing and the running stove, but if Matt starts speaking again then Logan'll pick it up easy. Right now, there's nothing else he wants to focus on more. ]
[ He starts to laugh as well, but the sound catches in his chest, aborted by the pain from moving the wrong way. No laughing until the ribs are healed, apparently. ] Something that takes no effort to eat, then.
[ The domestic sounds are a nice distraction from how he feels, so for a little while Matt just lies silently and listens to Logan move around. The nuns were taking good care of him, but he decides he'd much rather be here. ]
Uh, her name's Brittany. [ Logan's started frying some absolutely destroyed strands of chicken and red onions in a pot, the scent wafting from the open kitchen door into the room Matt's in (he's made the meat as small as possible so Matt can swallow them up easy when he eats). New York real estate's a fucking joke, he thinks, with flats as small as this one existing, but he supposes the fact everything is connected to the bedroom-slash-main-living-room at least means it's easier to keep track of how Matt's doing. ]
Brittany Meyer? It's an Air-Bee-En-Bee.
[ With the chicken strands a brown colour that Logan thinks is right, he pours the water in. He doesn't know if he's put too much or not, but hopes Matt doesn't care.
The red onions colour it beautifully, in any case. And it still smells pretty fucking good. ]
Thought taking you from a church to a motel'd be a step down. [ He lets out a soft 'hm'. ] So Cyclops told me about Internet booking.
[ The name doesn't mean anything to Matt, but he knows what an Airbnb is, so he doesn't expect it to. It's nice of Logan to think about where he'd be most comfortable. Hell, it's nice of Logan to take over caring for him at all. Especially considering how long it's been. ]
I've got a place. Unless my landlord canceled my lease. You know a guy you call Cyclops?
[ Everything smells great, and Matt sighs as the scents waft over him. Mint, basil, chicory... she must have a little indoor herb garden, he decides. Maybe he'll do that, once he's back on his feet. ] Yeah, I do. What you're cooking smells good too. Didn't know you were a chef now.
[ Incredulously, he asks, ] Are you teasing me, Matty?
[ He adds some salt and pepper into the mix, and though the thing's basic as all hell, it's pretty much the best his shoddy skills can do. Logan covers the soup a bit longer, and huffs. ]
And yeah, his code name's Cyclops, his real name's Scott. Leads the X-Men. [ Briefly he considers telling him that he looks like Matt does, with the sunglasses and the brown hair and the similar age and build and all, but holds that comment back instead. It might be weird. ]
Guy's a pain in my ass, but Brittany Meyers' flat is miles cheaper than a hotel, I'll admit. [ And Logan's almost hilariously broke most of the time.
Once he smells the soup's more or less good, he goes to put that in a bowl and takes a spoon along with him when he returns to Matt's side and puts it on the table. He takes a chair from the area to put by Matt's side now, then lets out a small hum. ]
[ God, it's so hard not to just grin ear to ear, so to hell with the bruises on his face, he does it anyway. Funny how Logan has always been so damn good with him, even when he was a recalcitrant and angry child.
Of course, now he's kind of a recalcitrant and angry adult half the time, so it makes sense. ]
Does he have an eye patch or something? Kind of an insulting name for a guy if he only one eye. [ Now he is teasing, though. Matt knows a little bit about the X-Men, thanks to the occasional news report and Logan's past mentions of them. So he assumes the nickname relates to an ability rather than a disability. But he can't pass up the chance for some ribbing, not when he has his own sight issues. ]
Yeah, think you're gonna have to, since I can't even sit up on my own. [ Christ, he hates feeling helpless, and that mental discomfort pushes him to try and sit up anyway. One arm is useless, still in a sling while his shoulder heals. But it only takes one hand to hold a spoon. ]
[ Matt's scent takes a turn towards something sourer and Logan's nose crinkles a bit with it. ] Don't go feeling guilty now, bub. [ Because Logan's already taking the bowl and stirring the soup, taking time in-between to blow gently into it and cool it down. ]
Wouldn't have lied to those nuns about being your cousin if I didn't wanna take care of you. [ That being said, he brings the first spoonful up and leads it to Matt's mouth. ]
And man, the guy might actually be cool if he had an eyepatch.
[ Which means he doesn't. The second spoonful comes up. ]
[ Matt really doesn't have any choice but accept being spoon-fed. After the first mouthful, his stomach decides it's been without real food for too long to argue anyway. So he relaxes, with a wry twist of his mouth and a sigh. ]
Can't believe I'm hanging around with a guy who lies to nuns.
[ He still can't quite get over Logan wanting to go through all this trouble for him, either. After a few spoonfuls, he makes a 'hold on' gesture to let his stomach settle for a minute, tilting his head in that unconscious tell he has, giving away the fact that his brain is turning something over and over. ]
Why did you, Jimmy? [ He was 'Mr. Howlett' when they first met, but it turned into 'Jimmy' pretty quickly as they became friends. Matt has a vague understanding that the guy goes by 'Logan' to a lot of people these days, but he isn't one of them. ] Why are you here now, doing this?
[ It's a shame he can't lie to Matt, and not just because the bastard'd be able to hear it with those unbelievable radioactive ears of his. It's precisely because the kid-- not a kid any more, though, is he, Howlett?-- has the right to call him Jimmy that it just feels wrong to give him anything but the truth.
Besides, he was going to tell him about why he really passed by, anyway. Now's as good a time as any.
Even though he feeds Matt a bit more, he speaks as he does it. ] I took you because I found out you were hurt. I was gonna ask you what you knew about the Hand, [ he pauses longer than he has to, letting that information sink in, then continues without an intention to elaborate unless Matt asks him to ] but I got here too late.
Tracked you down, saw you in bed in your coma.
[ He fills another spoon with soup, but doesn't bring it up as he thinks. ] ...and I'm a bastard with an attachment, looks like.
[ Even without the intention to deceive, Logan's tension is easy to read. Matt lets himself continue to be fed, but his focus is on the man in front of him, reading the clues he doesn't allow into his words.
Maybe it's how weak he still feels, maybe it's just that he's always cried easily, but Matt can't hold back the tears that come to his eyes. He reaches for Logan, fingers wrapping around his thick wrist. ]
I'll be okay now. You always did have a knack of turning up when I needed you most.
[ They can talk about the Hand later. Matt's going to need time to process what he learned and what happened. He doubts Logan will be going off to do anything with whatever information he gets anyway, not anytime soon. Not while Matt still can't even get around on his own. ]
[ Matt's eyes are wet, and for a moment Logan thinks he's said something terrible. But then he feels the grip on his wrist, keeping him from lifting the spoon completely now, and it's-- God, so strange to be needed like this, in a space so quiet and so isolated from the world, in a context beyond being a costume-clad superhero. Feels fucking bizarre to know that someone could need him for an anchor of humanity when Logan feels so far removed from the concept of humanity itself.
But he takes it, and he smiles (both happy and melancholy, because Christ, the sound of Matt's voice break shis heart), and the spoon clinks gently against the bottom of the bowl as he lets it slip from his fingers and moves instead to take Matt's hand in his a second time. ]
I hope you'll still think that when you get sick of my cooking. [ Unspoken is the I'm not leaving for a long while, I promise. Even more unspoken is any teasing for the tears on Matt's cheeks. ]
It's really good to see you. Talk to you. [ He gives a small squeeze. ] Even all banged up like this.
You and your friends saved the city. Don't forget that.
[ Matt's voice is thick, and he's not ashamed of the tears, never has been one of those people who acted like emotions were some kind of flaw. Logan never gave him a hard time about it when he was a kid, either, so there's no fear of judgment now.
He keeps hold of the man's wrist, needing the physical connection, to feel the warmth and the steady pulse under his fingers. All he's ever wanted, in his whole life, is to hear the words being spoken to him now. To have someone understand why he had to do all of the things Daredevil has done. Why it's so important to him. ]
I tried to give it up, but I couldn't do it. I just couldn't pretend not to hear all the cries for help. Couldn't let people keep tearing apart my city. And maybe it's egotistical to think I can make a difference, but I think I do, Jimmy. I really think I do.
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an unexpected reunion
Smell greets him first. His hearing is partly muffled by a ringing in his ears that makes it difficult to focus on individual sounds, but his nose is working well enough. ]
Cigars... [ Voice rasping from disuse, he mumbles his way to full consciousness, a figure from the past rising up from his memory. ] Mr. Howlett?
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[ Typical bedside manner would assume a gasp and relieved joy when a coma patient got up, but Matt had never smelled like he was in trouble. He'd just smelled like he needed rest.
Now he's up-- even if that's in the most basic sense of the word-- and Logan puts the cigar out into the ash tray he'd taken with him to sit by the window. ]
Sorry about the smell, kid. [ Pause. ] You want water?
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It's New York. [ Meaning he smells worse things on a daily basis. ] Please?
[ He'll get around to finding out what's going on, why he's apparently in the care of a man he hasn't spoken to in years, soon enough. But even his curiosity is telling Matt to take it slow. ]
You never change.
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When he returns, he has a glass of water with him. It's not cold, but he figures lukewarm is probably better on the throat, anyway.
Logan moves, slipping his hand beneath Matt's back, and helps him sit up before holding the glass to his lips. ] C'mon, Matty.
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As is the few swallows of water he manages, soothing on his dry throat. Matt grimaces in pain as he moves, but pain is a familiar enough sensation. At least he's alive to feel it.
That thought puts a worried frown on his face. ]
Why're you here?
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[ He doesn't mention that it was the Hand, nor does he mention that he'd come across an iteration of them in Japan when he'd spent the year there about half a decade ago. That's not something Matt has to worry about now, though he makes a mental note to tell him later. ]
Then I heard about what you and your people did. Tracked you down.
You're a reckless bastard, [ he shrugs, sitting on the edge of the bed, and though it dips quite a bit under Logan's weight (hilarious), he offers Matt a small smile ] but you did good, Daredevil.
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The mention of the others he'd teamed up with sends a jolt of worry through him, and as Logan sits, he reaches for the man's hand. ]
They made it, right? They're safe?
[ Despite his concern, he smiles up at Logan, deeply touched by the words of approval. Words he's desperately wanted to hear since he put on the mask. ] Did I?
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The one with the fist is taking care of your city, even. [ He tilts his head. ] I think.
[ In truth, he hasn't been paying attention much to the news since finding Matt at all. But God, it's good to see him-- and seeing him here, like this, makes him feel a little terrible for taking so long to visit again since college.
But a lot of things have happened in the span of twelve years. Logan's just now understanding that those things hadn't just been happening for him. ]
...sorry if I surprised you, appearing out of nowhere. [ He smiles slightly, wryly. ] I promise I'm not a fever dream.
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...and one of the most important people in his life has turned up again. It's the reunion his childhood self would have wished for with Stick, except that Logan has always accepted and valued Matt in a way that the old mentor never did. ]
I did wonder that for a minute. [ He inhales and then slow exhales, letting the rest of his tension escape with the breath. ] So you know about Daredevil?
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[ It's hard to keep secrets from Charles Xavier. Even harder when you're a kid with the favour of Wolverine.
But more than Cerebro, and more than Charles' powers, it doesn't take a genius to figure out who the Devil of Hell's Kitchen is. Remembering Matt when he was younger, Logan would've been more surprised if this hadn't been his path.
I should've come sooner plays on his tongue, soft and awkward and laden with guilt. He doesn't let it come out.
Instead, ] Think I like Matt Murdock more, though.
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There's a hesitation in the man, though, a sorrow that's telegraphed through their clasped hands. Matt squeezes gently, trying to offer the same reassurance that Logan has been giving him. ]
You don't know Matt Murdock these days. Might change your mind about that. [ Like Matt himself has. ]
I'm glad you're here, though.
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You good to eat? [ Their fingers link, and the fact that Matt's are big enough-- thick enough-- to really press against Logan's own is something he notices almost acutely. They're so much rougher now, too, made more obvious by the fact that Logan's hand is as smooth as it always has been. ] I can make you something.
I mean, [ he shrugs ] it'll be shit, but I can make you something.
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It's funny how natural and easy it feels, having Logan there after years of absence. The hand that used to dwarf his is like an anchor to the world, and Matt realizes that for the first time in a while, he honestly feels like things are going to be okay. ]
Soup? [ Eating is still exhausting, and his appetite seems to have taken a vacation anyway. Something that doesn't take any effort.
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[ But Logan lets Matt's hand go without further complaint, rising from the bed (and trying not to pay attention to how much the side he'd been sitting on rises as well when all three hundred pounds of him are gone).
A little more gently, he promises, ] I'll make it quick.
[ Then he heads to the kitchen. Soon enough there's the sound of washing and the sound of cutting and slicing and the running stove, but if Matt starts speaking again then Logan'll pick it up easy. Right now, there's nothing else he wants to focus on more. ]
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[ The domestic sounds are a nice distraction from how he feels, so for a little while Matt just lies silently and listens to Logan move around. The nuns were taking good care of him, but he decides he'd much rather be here. ]
Whose place is this? Doesn't smell like you.
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Brittany Meyer? It's an Air-Bee-En-Bee.
[ With the chicken strands a brown colour that Logan thinks is right, he pours the water in. He doesn't know if he's put too much or not, but hopes Matt doesn't care.
The red onions colour it beautifully, in any case. And it still smells pretty fucking good. ]
Thought taking you from a church to a motel'd be a step down. [ He lets out a soft 'hm'. ] So Cyclops told me about Internet booking.
You like her plants? The mint smells great.
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I've got a place. Unless my landlord canceled my lease. You know a guy you call Cyclops?
[ Everything smells great, and Matt sighs as the scents waft over him. Mint, basil, chicory... she must have a little indoor herb garden, he decides. Maybe he'll do that, once he's back on his feet. ] Yeah, I do. What you're cooking smells good too. Didn't know you were a chef now.
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[ He adds some salt and pepper into the mix, and though the thing's basic as all hell, it's pretty much the best his shoddy skills can do. Logan covers the soup a bit longer, and huffs. ]
And yeah, his code name's Cyclops, his real name's Scott. Leads the X-Men. [ Briefly he considers telling him that he looks like Matt does, with the sunglasses and the brown hair and the similar age and build and all, but holds that comment back instead. It might be weird. ]
Guy's a pain in my ass, but Brittany Meyers' flat is miles cheaper than a hotel, I'll admit. [ And Logan's almost hilariously broke most of the time.
Once he smells the soup's more or less good, he goes to put that in a bowl and takes a spoon along with him when he returns to Matt's side and puts it on the table. He takes a chair from the area to put by Matt's side now, then lets out a small hum. ]
I'm gonna have to feed you, aren't I.
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[ God, it's so hard not to just grin ear to ear, so to hell with the bruises on his face, he does it anyway. Funny how Logan has always been so damn good with him, even when he was a recalcitrant and angry child.
Of course, now he's kind of a recalcitrant and angry adult half the time, so it makes sense. ]
Does he have an eye patch or something? Kind of an insulting name for a guy if he only one eye. [ Now he is teasing, though. Matt knows a little bit about the X-Men, thanks to the occasional news report and Logan's past mentions of them. So he assumes the nickname relates to an ability rather than a disability. But he can't pass up the chance for some ribbing, not when he has his own sight issues. ]
Yeah, think you're gonna have to, since I can't even sit up on my own. [ Christ, he hates feeling helpless, and that mental discomfort pushes him to try and sit up anyway. One arm is useless, still in a sling while his shoulder heals. But it only takes one hand to hold a spoon. ]
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Wouldn't have lied to those nuns about being your cousin if I didn't wanna take care of you. [ That being said, he brings the first spoonful up and leads it to Matt's mouth. ]
And man, the guy might actually be cool if he had an eyepatch.
[ Which means he doesn't. The second spoonful comes up. ]
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Can't believe I'm hanging around with a guy who lies to nuns.
[ He still can't quite get over Logan wanting to go through all this trouble for him, either. After a few spoonfuls, he makes a 'hold on' gesture to let his stomach settle for a minute, tilting his head in that unconscious tell he has, giving away the fact that his brain is turning something over and over. ]
Why did you, Jimmy? [ He was 'Mr. Howlett' when they first met, but it turned into 'Jimmy' pretty quickly as they became friends. Matt has a vague understanding that the guy goes by 'Logan' to a lot of people these days, but he isn't one of them. ] Why are you here now, doing this?
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Besides, he was going to tell him about why he really passed by, anyway. Now's as good a time as any.
Even though he feeds Matt a bit more, he speaks as he does it. ] I took you because I found out you were hurt. I was gonna ask you what you knew about the Hand, [ he pauses longer than he has to, letting that information sink in, then continues without an intention to elaborate unless Matt asks him to ] but I got here too late.
Tracked you down, saw you in bed in your coma.
[ He fills another spoon with soup, but doesn't bring it up as he thinks. ] ...and I'm a bastard with an attachment, looks like.
Wanted to make sure you'd be okay.
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Maybe it's how weak he still feels, maybe it's just that he's always cried easily, but Matt can't hold back the tears that come to his eyes. He reaches for Logan, fingers wrapping around his thick wrist. ]
I'll be okay now. You always did have a knack of turning up when I needed you most.
[ They can talk about the Hand later. Matt's going to need time to process what he learned and what happened. He doubts Logan will be going off to do anything with whatever information he gets anyway, not anytime soon. Not while Matt still can't even get around on his own. ]
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But he takes it, and he smiles (both happy and melancholy, because Christ, the sound of Matt's voice break shis heart), and the spoon clinks gently against the bottom of the bowl as he lets it slip from his fingers and moves instead to take Matt's hand in his a second time. ]
I hope you'll still think that when you get sick of my cooking. [ Unspoken is the I'm not leaving for a long while, I promise. Even more unspoken is any teasing for the tears on Matt's cheeks. ]
It's really good to see you. Talk to you. [ He gives a small squeeze. ] Even all banged up like this.
You and your friends saved the city. Don't forget that.
And I'm really fucking proud of you.
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[ Matt's voice is thick, and he's not ashamed of the tears, never has been one of those people who acted like emotions were some kind of flaw. Logan never gave him a hard time about it when he was a kid, either, so there's no fear of judgment now.
He keeps hold of the man's wrist, needing the physical connection, to feel the warmth and the steady pulse under his fingers. All he's ever wanted, in his whole life, is to hear the words being spoken to him now. To have someone understand why he had to do all of the things Daredevil has done. Why it's so important to him. ]
I tried to give it up, but I couldn't do it. I just couldn't pretend not to hear all the cries for help. Couldn't let people keep tearing apart my city. And maybe it's egotistical to think I can make a difference, but I think I do, Jimmy. I really think I do.
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maybe we can end this scene here, do another?