#prev yeah its the infantilization

[momokodaisy]

Cliched Bullshit (Ch 2)

SUMMARY: It’s a quiet Friday morning at Nelson, Murdock, & Page, until Frank Castle comes to visit.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I’m not proud of this chapter’s quality, but I’m proud of myself for making this much content! Also, because of a throwaway line, this now technically exists in a canon divergence of Daredevil season 3, but I don’t think it’s a big enough divergence that it’ll take anyone out of the story. Once again, let me put up a disclaimer saying that I haven’t watched The Punisher yet, so this may be extremely out of character for Frank. I apologize in advance for any crimes against Frank Castle.

Divider by @/firefly-graphics

WARNINGS: Spoilers for seasons 1-3 of Daredevil (2015)

WORDS: 3.1k

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Thanks to Frank’s intervention the previous night, Matt was able to escape the kerfuffle with no damage worse than bruising, most of which was hidden by his suit, and minimal pain; the only real source of discomfort was a soreness in his back, but as long as he sat a certain way, he could avoid it.

What he couldn’t avoid, however, was the constant fussing and worried concern he received from his loved ones.

At first, he despised it. For one thing, he hated the attention, detested everyone’s laser-focus on him. Even if he couldn’t see it, he could feel it, ever since he was a kid. Living under the barrage of the confusing and paradoxical combination of pity, infantilization, annoyance, and resentment had taken its toll over the years, and thus he preferred if he wasn’t in anyone’s spotlight. Later, once Foggy and Karen knew about the Devil, he became desperate to escape the burden of their fear for him and the weight of their anger at him - every cut, every bruise, every missed phone call, every minute late to work, it all compounded into the concrete of guilt drowning Matt’s soul.

But it was different now. The past few months living in isolation had proven to him that hiding away from the world and running away from those who loved him was not going to help; it only served to make him more jaded by preventing him from seeing the good his work did, and divorcing him from that overwhelming and addictive ache in his chest that he was beginning to suspect was love for Foggy and Karen (though what type it was he still could not be sure). He realized he was going to have to tolerate, and maybe even accept, some of the doting concern from them, to swallow a small lump of that concrete, because that was a part of the price one paid for being human.

That, and he wasn’t sure he could continue without them. He had said so himself, once, that he couldn’t take another step alone. And he had proven himself correct.

Thus, Matt was trying to be better about the attention. When he walked into work every morning, he entered Nelson’s Meats through the front door, so he could greet and be greeted by Theo. If he knew he was going to be late, he sent Karen a text to assure her he wasn’t dead, he had just overslept. And now he went to Foggy for medical assistance during his late night endeavors, so Foggy could see for himself that Matt was alright and taken care of.

So when Foggy made a bee-line for him the moment he walked through the door, he suspected it was coming, and gave minimal resistance.

“Did you send Castle to my place last night?” Foggy asked without skipping a beat.

“Good morning to you, too, Foggy.” Matt replied with a smirk, leaning his cane up against the chair that was designated as “his.”

It was only then that Matt noticed that Foggy’s heart rate was up slightly, and realized that this was a tad more serious than the typical concern of a friend. “Do not make fun of me, dude.”

Matt relented. “Yes, I sent Frank to your apartment last night. Why? What happened?”

“So there was really a shootout at a store around 48th?”

Now Matt was starting to get just a tiny bit worried. “Yeah, there was. Foggy, what’s going on?”

“Thank God.” Foggy sighed dramatically, before turning around and walking in the direction of the coffee-maker, “He had me freaked out about you.”

“‘Freaked out’?” Matt echoed, following a few steps behind, “How so?”

“He was asking all these personal questions.” As Foggy explained, Matt could hear the whirring of machinery as the coffee-maker was turned on, and the clink of porcelain as Foggy grabbed two coffee mugs. “About us. When we met, where we met, how our relationship was going. He even asked if we were dating.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah, it was weird.” There was a pause, as Foggy shook the packets of sugar substitute before opening and pouring them into the mugs. “And get this - he then apologized for shooting you-” he used an index finger to poke at Matt’s chest for emphasis, “-and for tanking the trial. How insane is that?”

Matt wasn’t about to lie and say that it sounded in character for Frank. “That…is pretty bizarre, yeah. But why were you so worried?”

After at least a decade of friendship, Matt had learned all of Foggy’s silences. This one was his “Duh-Matt-are-you-even-paying-attention?” silence.

“I thought he had killed you or something!” Foggy exclaimed as the scent of brewing coffee wafted over the pair, “Like he had shot you and was coming over to break the news to me. Or he hadn’t killed you yet, but planned to, and wanted some info about you only I could provide. I’m pretty special to you, you know.”

Matt could hear the smirk in Foggy’s voice when he spoke the last sentence. Foggy was right, and he knew it, because Matt had told him so in the whispers of that conversation they had spoken a few nights ago. Cheeky bastard.

He found himself grinning, and debating saying a number of witty or kind things in return (such as “I bet I’m pretty special to you, too”), but couldn’t bring his lips to make the words. Instead, like the emotionally-constipated jackass he was, he smiled, but spoke to the point of the conversation.

“I don’t think Frank is going to kill me, Foggy.”

“Why not?” Foggy asked, pouring the now-brewed coffee into the mugs.

“If Frank wanted me dead, he would have done it already. He has a very… forward method of handling his targets.”

“He’s tried before and failed, though.” Foggy countered, and Matt could hear the spoon clinking against the side of the mugs as he stirred, “What if he knows his normal M.O. won’t work and now he’s forced to be more strategic? Here you go, bud.”

Matt took the mug Foggy handed him with a nod of the head and a soft “thanks.” “Okay. Let’s say you’re right and Frank is planning to make an attempt on my life. Why? What’s his motivation?”

Foggy let out a puff of air as he sat down in the chair next to Matt’s, which Matt took as his cue to sit as well. “I don’t know. Fisk, maybe? He was the one who helped Castle get out of prison, right? Maybe Fisk is calling in a favor. Using Castle as his hitman.”

Matt shook his head. “It’s too obvious. We’d trace him back to Fisk too quickly, and we’d know that Fisk had violated our agreement.”

“Then what about all the personal questions?”

Now that was something Matt didn’t have an easy answer to. He pondered over it for a few moments, sipping at his too-sweet coffee (Foggy always adds too much sugar for Matt’s liking, but he never has the heart to tell him), before a thought dashed across his mind that made him chuckle.

“Maybe he wanted to learn more about you because he likes you.”

Matt focused his senses solely on Foggy for a few seconds to gauge his reaction. Foggy’s breath caught for a moment while his heart rate spiked again, and there was a slight increase in his body temperature. After a few seconds, Foggy barked out a laugh.

“Like me? Frank Castle can’t stand me. He didn’t even bother to learn my name until last night, for crying out loud!”

Matt said nothing, and simply smiled into his coffee.

“‘Like me.’” Foggy repeated with a playful scoff, shaking his head, “You wish another vigilante would come along and steal my heart! Then I would smother them instead of you.”

He could tell by the other man’s tone that he meant it purely as a joke, a playful rib, but for the briefest moment, Matt felt something… unknown bubble in his chest. It was gone before he could give a thought to analyze it, so he ignored it, and wrote it off as acid from the coffee.

“I never said that.” He protested calmly.

“No, you’re right,” Foggy replied, leaning over to pat Matt on the shoulder, “You know you can never get rid of me, Murdock.”

And I never plan to.

~~~~~~~~

For the next four or so hours, the contents of the morning’s conversation didn’t re-enter Matt’s mind. He was laser-focused on work, and if he were honest, it felt nice to be practicing law again, especially now as the lives of his loved ones didn’t hang in the balance. The most at stake for this case was having Ray moved to a low-security prison to serve his five-year sentence, and both he and Foggy were confident that convincing Tower would be easy, seeing as Foggy handed him his reelection on a silver platter after all.

With his attention on his work, Matt wasn’t listening to his surroundings as carefully as he should have been. Thus, the slow, heavy footsteps, combined with the clinking of a hoodie’s zipper and the familiar heartbeat, didn’t alert him to Frank’s arrival until too late.

Matt’s head shot up when he heard the front door creek open, accompanied by the jingle of the bell, and Theo’s voice.

“Welcome to Nelson’s Meats! How can I help you today?”

Matt removed his headphone from his ear as Frank asked for “Nelson, Murdock, and Page.” He heard Theo direct Frank to “that door,” and when Frank thanked him, Matt stood up in anticipation of Frank's arrival.

“Good afternoon, Mister Castle.” Matt greeted once Frank had opened the door to the backroom doubling as an office, “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Frank’s body stopped for a moment, but he then shrugged, and answered, “Pleasure is it, actually.”

Matt remembered that Frank had a special bond with Karen (what Foggy called their “mutual obsession”) in the past, so it seemed logical he was looking for her. Before the other man could continue, Matt spoke. “Well, I regret to inform you that Miss Page is not in the office today. She’s very busy assisting our friends at Alias Investigations. But if there’s anything I can do for you in the meantime, I’m more than happy to help.”

“I appreciate that,” Frank replied, pulling his hood down, “But actually, I’m here for my attorney, Franklin Nelson.”

Matt furrowed his brows in confusion. "Both Foggy and myself are your attorneys, Mister Castle."

Frank let out a laugh that sounded more like a scoff. "Yeah, that's true. But as I recall, Nelson was the one doin' all the work. Opening statements, testimonies, cross-examinations, all that jazz. Now that I think about it, I barely remember seeing you in court at all.”

Matt frowned as a fresh wave of guilt washed over him. The other man’s comment was a reminder of all the people he failed that year, Frank among them, along with Elektra, Karen, and Foggy. If he spent too many moments reflecting on his fight with Foggy in the courthouse bathroom, he might drown in shame.

“You’re right, Mister Castle,” Matt began, reaching out a hand to hold onto the back of his chair, “During your trial, I was… preoccupied by personal struggles. But that’s no excuse for failing to give your case the undivided attention it deserved. I’m very sorry for that. And how the trial ended.”

There was a pause, and then Frank sighed, taking a step forward. “Listen, Red, I- I’m not here to give you any grief. At least, I’m not tryin’ to, anyway. Past is the past, y’know? No hard feelings.”

“No hard feelings.” Matt echoed with a small smile. He then added, “But in all seriousness, Frank, if there’s anything you need in terms of legal representation, I’m at your service.”

“Nah, that’s alright. Like I said, I’m here for Nelson.”

Frank’s insistence was… interesting, to say the least, and Matt found himself revisiting his conversation with Foggy from earlier in the day. Why was Frank suddenly so fascinated with Foggy? Sure, Foggy was naturally a fascinating person, with his infinite kindness, great sense of humor, and tremendous grace under pressure, among other things, but as Foggy pointed out himself, Frank had never even spoken Foggy’s name aloud until twelve hours ago. And now here Frank was, asking for Foggy specifically. What was going on?

“Oh, yes, of course.” the lawyer replied, trying to sound casual, and hide the fact that he was playing 3-D chess in his mind.

“It’s not new business or anything. I’d just like to give him a proper ‘thank you’ for all his hard work during the trial. So I thought maybe I could take him to lunch.”

For the briefest moment, every muscle in Matt’s body froze. Frank had spoken so casually, accompanying it with a shrug of his shoulders and a lazy tilt of the head, and all with a steady heartbeat, too. Thus Matt’s rational brain knew Frank was being truthful, and that it was highly unlikely he was up to anything suspicious. Yet, despite this, that unknown feeling from earlier in the day returned, crawling its way up from the pit of his stomach to his throat, and eventually spilled from his lips in the form of the words, “No, you’re not.”

The room became crushed under the weight of a stilled silence. Matt was taken aback, and felt his eyes widen, completely blindsided by his own mouth. What the hell was that, Matthew?

He wasn’t the only one shocked by Matt’s behavior - Frank’s head jerked backwards in confusion. “What did you say?”

The brunette still wasn’t sure what was going on with him, or the awful churning in his stomach, but he knew he had just made a serious mistake, and needed to damage control quickly. He opened his mouth, soundlessly for a second or two, as his brain desperately attempted to concoct a polite back-track.

“I… only meant that you can’t take Foggy to lunch today. He’s using his lunch break to buy groceries and supplies for the office. He- he didn’t specify when he would return. It could be hours from now.” When there was silence on Frank’s end, Matt continued, “But I’m sure Foggy and I would be more than happy to have your company for lunch on Monday. Karen should be available on Monday as well, if-”

Matt was cut off by the sound of a lock turning in the door behind him. He focused his hearing on the heartbeat and breathing of the individual, and pursed his lips when he realized it was Foggy.

Matt has always noted that Foggy’s comedic timing was perfect, but today, Matt was the butt of the joke.

“Hey, Matt, you gonna help me with these or what?” Foggy called, struggling to drag six or so shopping bags into the room at once.

Before Matt could make a witty comment back, Frank dashed across the room. “I’ve gotcha.”

“Oh, hey!” Foggy replied, his voice a note higher in surprise, “Mister Castle! I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Here I am!” Frank replied, and Matt could hear the rustling of paper bags as Frank grabbed a few from Foggy and dropped them on the table Matt and Foggy were using as a desk. “Here good?”

“Yeah, thanks. Listen, Matt, neither the Staple’s nor the Office Depot had the braille paper your printer needs. Sorry about that, buddy.”

In the excitement of Frank’s arrival, Matt had completely forgotten he had made that request. “That’s alright, Foggy. I appreciate you looking, though.”

“Anytime, pal.” Foggy paused, as he placed the last bag onto the table, then turned to Frank. “Anyway, nice to see you again, Mister Castle. What brings you back to Nelson, Murdock, and Page?”

“Nelson, actually.” Frank answered.

Foggy was momentarily stunned to silence. “Me?”

“Yeah, you,” Frank chuckled, “I was just telling Murdock that I wanted to offer to take you to lunch. As a ‘thank you’ for all your work during the trial.”

Matt could hear Foggy’s heart rate spike, and hypothesized as to why. He had been pretty nervous about Frank’s behavior in their conversation that morning, so Matt speculated that Foggy was hesitant about spending more time alone with the other vigilante. But seeing as he could not read minds, Matt pursed his lips, and waited for Foggy to speak for himself.

“Well that- that’s very kind of you, Mister Castle-”

“Call me Frank.”

Matt balled his fists in annoyance at hearing Frank interrupt Foggy, but said nothing.

“I appreciate the offer, Frank,” Foggy tried again, pulling what Matt sensed were coffee filters from one of the grocery bags, “But you don’t owe us anything. We knew we wouldn’t be paid when we took your case.”

“I know, I know. This ain’t about money, man. This is about…” Frank’s voice became softer, as if he was speaking to Foggy and Foggy alone, “what we talked about last night, y’know?”

That pit-of-the-stomach-crawling feeling roared up into Matt’s mouth for a second time, and he had to grit his teeth behind tightly-clamped lips to keep himself from saying anything impolite again. What happened last night to make Frank act like this? Matt asked himself, Did these two do something other than talk?

Matt’s stomach twisted. He did not like that idea one bit.

Meanwhile, Foggy fell into a silence, which Matt recognized as his “Pretending-to-debate-it-even-though-he-had-already-made-up-his-mind” silence.

“You hungry, Matt?” Foggy asked over his shoulder.

“Starving,” he lied. Foggy didn’t need to know about the nervous churning in his abdomen, but Matt definitely needed to be at this lunch date.

“Then screw it,” Foggy announced, his grin reflected in his voice and his arms spread wide, “Let’s all get lunch!”

Matt reflectively smiled at his small victory, grabbing his cane from its place up against his chair. He could hear Foggy grab his keyring off the table, as Frank made some noises in attempts to speak. Foggy quickly quieted them, by adding, “As long as Frank’s buying, let’s try that new place I saw on the way to Office Depot. I think it’s called ‘El’s’ or something? Dude, I could smell the burgers from the street, and the smell was divine.”

Frank was still as Foggy opened the back door so that the trio could exit. Matt stepped forward, reaching for Frank’s arm with his left hand, as his cane was in his right, keeping up his smile. “This will be a nice opportunity for us to make up for lost time, wouldn’t you say, Mister Castle?”

Matt Murdock may have been blind, but he certainly knew what the glare of daggers felt like. And boy, was he getting one then.

“Yeah. Sure.”

#foggy nelson #matt murdock #frank castle #i hate this chapter even more than the first but that's not the point #fanfiction #sen's portfolio