[OOC: I decided not to have a huge battle at the court because I figured Kate would 100% leap into action if that was on the news. So we can always plan for a fun court fight/save the civilians epic battle later on with both of them?]
Not guilty. Of course.
Fisk had tried to spin it to the public that new evidence had been submitted that showed it was all justified in the amount of force used, but that of course he'd be keeping a vigilant eye on his team. He'd ensure they were trained and supervised by the best while a new commissioner was found. After all, the masked vigilantes were causing such chaos, the men had to keep them under control. If only these menaces would stop, the city could get back to order. Surely, if the vigilantes wanted peace, then ceasing to go out and fight would be easy, right? Unless they were after something more nefarious.
Some people bought it. Others didn't. There was at least that much. Not everyone was buying Fisk's bullshit.
Fisk had also thanked Matt in public for saving him. 'The city needs good men of principle to put their lives on the line. I wouldn't be here today, Counselor, if not for you. I wouldn't be the man I am, doing what I am for this city, without you, Mr. Murdock. Remember that.'
The task force had followed Matt after the trial, first accosting him in the bathroom, then just past the courtroom crowds. For the first time in a long time, Matt hadn't been sure he'd win. He wasn't sure he did win. He'd sensed the faint heat from a recording device and managed to smash it, breaking the officer's hand for good measure. They wanted Matt Murdock on camera doing what Daredevil could. When that failed, they took to simply beating him. Matt held his own long enough to get away, but it was a stalemate, not a win.
He arrived at Claire's door again, bloodied and favoring his left side. Claire sighed and went to fetch some of Luke's clothing for him. He changed into the black t-shirt and sweatpants, but they were clearly baggy on him. He called Kirsten to say he needed yet another new suit, then headed for Kate's room, knocking on the door before entering. He limped to the bed, sitting heavily on the end of it and giving her a smile that couldn't fully hide the pain.
Claire had convinced her. She had actually stood on the bedroom's door, arms folded and pulled up a mom speech, the sort that lets you know they're disappointed on you.
"Wanna go out there limping to what? Faint in the middle of the street? You can barely move and I haven't slept a blink to fix you up. If you still want to go out there, be my guest. But I'm not patching you up again. Matt can take care of this mess."
Kate quickly learned that Matt's friend didn't have much of a temper, but leaned towards tough love. She was just as worried as Kate had been, checking on the news herself. But also bringing her soft drinks and checking on her regularly. Even helping her to the bathroom. Claire had a good heart, but life had toughen her up.
Aware that there was nothing she could do but take things easy and recover as quickly as possible, Kate let sleep catch up with her, waking up every couple of hours only to check social media again and passing out for another nap.
She still had her phone in hand when the weight of Matt's body made the bed shift, shaking her awake.
The new cuts and bruises on her face truly shook her up. She reached out, grabbing his forearm.
He felt the small fractures in his body when he moved. He felt the torn muscles, the inflamed tendons. His body was like a poorly pieced together porcelain figurine, the fracture lines held together with glue just one shove away from shattering. It was so bad that, while not life-threatening, he couldn't even discern what all his injuries were because everything from his hair to his toes hurt. He was simply worn down, and he couldn't afford to be.
He gave a small, slow shake of his head.
"It's fine. I handled it."
Heather, so cold in the courtroom towards him. She wanted him to open up to her, but with the foundation that he was in the wrong about vigilantes. How could he be open when she would only hear what she wanted? Not that he was willing to listen in return to how wonderful Fisk was.
Fisk, who made sure Matt knew that everything Fisk did now was on Matt's shoulders.
He was fine. He could handle it.
He was lost in his thoughts so much that if Kate had talked, he hadn't heard. He roused himself a little and shook his head. "Sorry. I'm back. What was that?"
Kate's mind was also foggy enough, having just woken up, to fully understand what was going on. She instinctively held onto his arm, noticing how he was zoning out. Had Matt hear anything? Had he been beaten and followed?
He was exhausted, that one thing she knew for sure. Up for almost a two days and one night, beaten up and handling a rough day at work. But these fresh wounds?
Suddenly, Kate grunted, grimacing as she scooted aside, making room on the double bed. Before Matt could complain, she grabbed a fistful of that black t-shirt, tugging onto it and encouraging him to get on the bed.
"You need to lie down. You're barely sitting up, Matt." There was no room to argue. He surely knew that tone well by now.
He all but fell onto the mattress when she tugged on his shirt. It was tempting, so tempting. His body crumpled onto that side of the bed with a groan. His chest rose and fell as he breathed heavily and he mumbled, "I have to call Heather. I have to check in with everyone. Have to..." There was probably something else he had to do. A lot of things. Kirsten? Did he still need to call her, or had he already called her? God, he couldn't even remember in that moment.
Maybe he'd lie down for a minute. Just a minute.
His head drowsily tilted in her direction, listening for her heartbeat. Trying to sense how her injuries were doing. "What was Claire's verdict on your recovery? Not that I don't trust your self-assessment..." but he didn't entirely trust what she might say about her own status.
"You need to rest for five minutes," Kate argued, sounding more awake now that she had a mission of her own. Luckily, Matt didn't put much resistance. Not for long, anyway. Laying down by her side.
Honestly, if there's one thing she had to thank that bunch of pigs for was how they had kicked her on the ribs, hitting the right side. Well, the left side. The correct one for Kate to be able to turn on her side and face Matt properly.
There wasn't much more room in the bed anymore. But she couldn't care less.
"The veredict is that is that I'm good enough to tell you to shut up and rest." He had washed his face. Or Claire had helped him after fixing him up, but Kate could see some crust of dry blood on the corner of his mouth. Without thinking, she reached over and carefully wiped it with her thumb.
She watched Matt, his face bruised, his forehead swollen. Had they attacked him in court? Things had not escalated outside, but she had no idea what had happened behind closed doors. Fisk had been there. He was starting a cold war during day time and was now celebrating how justice had won, favoring his men.
Kate's hand rested on Matt's chest, right over his heart. How much more of this could he take? He had to be tired in body and mind and emotionally too.
"Was it the same guys from last night?" She had seen it. The task force had been there.
Her touch was soft. Matt's head instinctively turned into it when she found his face, wiping away the blood. Matt was someone who craved affection, who wanted physical contact. It was one of the main ways for him to experience the world since he couldn't see it. Right now especially, as tired and hurting as he was, he wanted that softness. Reaching up, he rested one of his hands over hers that was on top of his heart.
She hadn't really answered his question. He'd circle back around to it, or ask Claire if Kate wouldn't tell him. For now he just answered her question.
"Yeah. Some of the same guys, at least. Powell is really gunning for me." A beat. "I may have antagonized him a little." Which hadn't been smart, but Powell had been antagonizing Matt right back. They'd hated one another since Hector's case. "I fought them. Wouldn't say I beat them. But they didn't follow me." He was more than a little disappointed in himself for not doing more, but really, it wasn't like he could even drop them off at the police station to be arrested these days. Since he wasn't willing to kill, it was just a constant circle of beating them down and letting them heal.
With his free hand he rubbed his eyes a little, wincing as his fingers hit a sore area.
Kate is the kind of person who grows close to others and can be quite quick about it and open about showing affection. But the thing with Matt? It's different. Just like she gravitates towards people, finding relief in affection through touch, he replies in kind. It only encourages her to stay close, to cross lines normally she wouldn't.
But there was no twisted meanings in here. They were sharing a bed because neither of them had a home at the moment. They were laying next to each other, because the world felt massive and alone and turned upside-down. But they understood each other and what was at risk. Kate knew the burden Matt carried, so much heavier as he intended to be the face of this revolution.
With the blanket between their bodies, it felt safe. Like she wasn't really crossing a boundary as she scooted closer. Her arm was drapped properly over his chest now as Matt held her hand. She felt the side of his arm against her chest while Kate rested her chin on his shoulder. She closed her eyes, listening as he spoke.
"Of course you gave him a run for his money." It hurt a little, as her lower lip was split. Aren't those tiny wounds the ones that hurt the most? Like freaking cutting your thumb with paper. Still, even if smiling hurt, it was worth it. "That guy is such a jerk. You know what? I don't give a fuck. We're breaking his legs. Or his back maybe? I need him out of the game for a while." Or for good.
Maybe they needed to start playing a little dirtier.
The mood shifted as Matt asked again. Softer this time. He was always worried about her.
"Like shit," Kate practically breathed out the words in a laugh. "Claire says that it's a miracle that nothing is broken. But they popped my gunshot cherry, so that's something."
"We'll handle Powell. He's at the top of the task force food chain right now. We do need to take him down, but I also want to see who and what he can lead us to first." Start playing offensive, rather than purely defensive. As Karen had said, this was a battle that wouldn't be won just using fists. As much as Matt wanted to make it that simple, they couldn't. "You'll get your choice of legs to break afterwards, though." Matt didn't have any problem breaking some bones. He'd already broken Powell's arm once.
Or was the Devil temping someone good, because he really wanted revenge?
It was hard not to want to kill Powell himself hearing about her injuries. Wincingly he pushed himself to sit a little more upright, concern etched on his face. His gaze was unfocused but his brow furrowed, and he reached out to lightly touch her bandage. A reminder he wasn't able to protect everyone all the time, but part of him still hating himself for that. The reality that it was his Catholic guilt talking, because this was as much Kate's fight as his.
Matt's phone pinged, saying he had a message.
Clint Barton. Clint Barton. Clint Barton.
Matt groaned as he rolled over, answering his phone with the voice to text option. He put it on speaker.
"Matt."
So you just go and have a revolution and not invite me? Here I thought we had something special at that bodega twenty years ago, Murdock.
Met some of your friends on my way in. Sweethearts, aren't they?
Edited (Edited to not double up on word choices. ) 2025-04-27 19:21 (UTC)
Kate grunted as Matt shifted, moving them both as he changed his position. He touched her shoulder, now not just covered with her sports bra and the bandages, but wearing an old tank top that was the souvenir of some concert she's never heard about before.
She watched him, his gaze seemingly lost on some distant spot, but his mind as sharp as always. He worried. No matter how beaten and in how much pain, Matt only truly felt the pain in others.
"It's like a cold war, isn't it?" Just like Cherry and detective Kim described it. They needed to be strategic about every move.
As Matt's phone rang, Kate rolled over, her head falling heavily on Claire's soft pillows. It was like being devoured by a cloud. Of course, as soon as she heard Clint's name, her head went up as if the pillow cloud had just burnt her.
"Clint? Fuck..."
And her body was now complaining over the sudden move.
Matt waved a hand at her to stop talking, because his phone was on voice to text, which meant that if she spoke loudly enough, the phone might pick it up and send...
No, I'm in Mexico with Laura, enjoying a margarita and some assholes came to find me to tell me how much they hate me wearing a Hawaiian shirt. Of course I'm in the city. Where else would I be after all these news reports?
Thank God it only sent messages, not voices attached to them.
Matt wincingly sat up in bed, wondering why he felt guilty. Clint was a colleague. He was Kate's mentor and one of her best friends. There was nothing wrong with what they'd been doing. There was, quite literally, only one bed and both of them were injured. He should just be glad to have Clint's expertise. What was wrong with him?
"Sorry. It's been a long few weeks. We're at Claire's right now, but the homebase is Josie's Bar. Are you... is your family all right?"
My wife is tougher than you'll ever be, Murdock. She and the kids will be fine. They'll kick my ass if I don't check on Kate with the city gone to shit. I was gonna message her, but then I realized, if messages are being tracked, I'd rather put your ass on the line. Not like you don't know a good lawyer to handle what comes from it.
Kate's where? I'm heading wherever that is.
"She's at Claire's. She's all right. ... it was a rough night, Clint, but she's all right."
Silence.
"Clint?"
ETA 23 min. 25 if I'm feeling productive along the way.
Matt fell back against the mattress and closed that message thread. Well. Maybe they wouldn't have to worry about Powell after all.
Kate had not picked on any of Matt's worries. Because even though deep down she was aware of the awkwardness of the situation, it's not like Clint could see him! Even if he did, it just made sense. They were both injured. Resting side-by-side.
But fuck that. She was too excited now to let worries and overthinking overpower her. That huge toothy smile that almost crossed her face spoke for itself. It reached her blue eyes as she looked up at Matt, gruntng as she sat up too. As if leaning closer to his phone could help her hear better.
Clint. Her mentor, partner - slash - best friend. It squeezed at her heart in the best way possible, hearing that mechanic voice read up his words. Clint was willing to leave it all to come help her.
Soon enough she was lying back down next to Matt, turning to him and showing no shame as she hugged him.
"This is it. We have an Avenger on our side. We're so kicking these guys in the ass."
Hearing Kate's enthusiasm was contagious. Perhaps Clint was just the energy boost to moral that was needed right now. Matt warmly, if achingly, hugged Kate back. He knew that she'd been largely swimming in a sea of Matt's contacts. Not all, she had her friend on the force, and Alice and Peter were now Kate's friends in their own right. Still. It wasn't like having someone you considered family around.
A small part of Matt, a very small and petty part, worried that everyone would follow Clint now. Like Kate said, they had an Avenger with them. A known global hero, a renown spy. A man who despite those claims of international fame was also a local street hero. Someone who the people of New York might rally around instead of Matt. If that was for the good of the city, shouldn't Matt step aside? Why was it bothering him when the city and not his ego should be all that mattered?
He'd figure it out later. Step aside gracefully, if it came to that. Right now, he'd just bask in Kate's glow that he could feel without seeing.
"You know, this is how Clint and I met. Remember I told you? Years ago. We fought off a cop that was roughing up a kid who'd stolen from a bodega. Funny how that's come full circle."
Clint could be trusted in this fight.
"Hope it's all right I told him you had a rough night. Didn't want him to arrive and be surprised."
Because, embarrassing as it had been to be waiting on the floor of a rooftop, rain pouring as she bled away, well... Screw it. Things were turning around. The public was starting to side with them, remembering all about Fisk's true colors. Clint was coming.
And Matt... It was nice to be held like that. To have someone she feels so close to. She might not have Matt's refined nose, and that is probably Luke's cologne that he is wearing. But there's something so soothing about resting her head on his chest, being held, catching that scent that was particularly his. Being warm, knowing someone was taking care of dinner. That tonight they would actually sleep.
Knowing her partner was crossing town just to come check on her.
"I remember. You guys saved the bodega kid that turned to be an artist." The one they once thought might have a clue to find Muse. Goddamn. That felt like something that had happened a lifetime ago.
"It's fine. For the better, probably." Kate had to admit. "He'll probably give me less shit if he's not surprised." Kate looked up, staring at Matt for a moment. That stubble was short of becoming a full beard. He was bruised, looked so tired. Probably too tired to understand how truly big it is to have Clint there with them.
"How was court? I know you didn't win, but it was what you expected, right?"
Matt grimaced at the mention of court. "Yeah. It was what I expected. Well, the outcome was, at least." He should have but hadn't fully anticipated the large greeting he'd gotten at court. He hadn't expected making a last ditch effort to repair things with Heather and for her to issue the ultimatum she had. Every time he tried to step off one trap it felt like he was falling into another. It made him feel even less secure about handling being the face of his current revolution.
How could he be, when he was living with a woman who aligned herself with Fisk? What if he was fooling himself in thinking he could sway Heather to his side?
"I just, um. Dinner. I should make dinner." This was absolutely peak Matt having no clue what to do, so he was going to cook. He was going to do something. Matt slid out of bed and steadied himself on the bed with one hand. He counted until his blood pressure evened out and he wouldn't faint. "It's the least I can do for Claire. And you. I should check in with the others, too."
There was a sound in the other room. A warm greeting. Matt shuffled to the door, but there was a knock before he reached it and Claire opened it. Clint was standing beside him. He was dressed down for now, but there was a bag with him. Minor scuffles, signs that he had indeed fought some on his way there, but nothing that looked alarming. "Murdock. You look like shit." His gaze moved past Matt and he moved to Kate without preamble. "What happened?"
Surely he sensed her disappointment the moment she slipped off her side and got out of bed. The bubble bursted. The moment was lost.
But before she could protest, reminding him that they can order dinner, Kate herself heard the door. Soon enough Clint was there, in the flesh. A couple of bruises decorating his own face, that gruff but yet welcoming tone in his voice. Kate beamed, already making an effort to get out of bed.
"No! No, no, no, get back to bed! You're gonna mess those stitches," Claire called out, her hand held at arm's lenght as if that could stop Kate. The nurse turned her attention to Matt, as if his sole presence was a bad influence. "A little help?"
Kate in the meantime, she was happy to weakly put her arms around Clint this time. "What happened? A bunch of Fisk's guys will say a bus run them over, but it was actually me."
Matt shuffled past Claire, muttering, "I'm making dinner." He paused in the doorway and turned. As usual his head just tilted in the general direction as he addressed Clint. His tone was a little tight, but genuinely appreciative. "It's good to have you here, Barton. I'm glad you got here safe." He touched Claire's arm then, nodding for her to follow him out. To give Kate and Clint some privacy. He made his way to her kitchen and needed her help, as a lot had changed since he'd last been there to know his way around it.
Inside the room, Clint gave Kate a large hug in return. "Yeah, I believe that. Glad to hear you gave them hell." He just wished she hadn't gotten it in return, too. After a long embrace he tried to ease her back onto the bed. This operation was rickety at best, but who was he to talk. Some of the missions he'd been on with Nat in his day, they shouldn't have had a prayer, either. He sat on the edge of the bed, his bag resting on the floor. "Laura was half out the door herself. You gotta call her tonight or else she will come. The kids wanna hear from you, too."
A beat, then in a voice that was slightly chiding, "You could have called me sooner, Kate. With that shitshow out there? I would have come."
Edited (My turn to apologize for all the edits. I suck at writing on my phone, sob.) 2025-04-27 21:16 (UTC)
The thing about Clint is that he had always been there for her. Back when he was nothing but a symbol, a parasocial relationship. He had been her lighthouse in her darkest days, had shaped who she grew up to be. And so, seeing him brought nothing but absolute unadulterated joy in her heart.
Clint had filled a void in Kate. Almost fitted the shape her dad had left after dying. A shape that became more painfully bigger since she felt her mom betray everything Kate stood for.
But Clint would always be there. Reminding her to be brave, to have hope. If he could face a bunch of aliens with a string and sticks, then she could beat the shit out of some corrupt cops.
"I swear they look worse than this," Kate pointed out proudly, cocking her head as she smiled goofily. She allowed Clint to gently get her back in bed. But not for a second did she lose the spark of joy in the way she looked at him.
"I'm tempted to facetime them just to see their faces, but that's probably going to backfire with Laura." Oh, she would so go back to mom mode. "I'll call in a bit, I promise." After dinner. If she doesn't pass out. Thank god she took those naps...
Something softened in her. It wasn't guilt, but awareness. Hope that she wouldn't disappoint him with the choice she made. "I didn't want to worry you, not over this. It's not your mess to clean, Clint. You deserve your time with the kids."
There was a look on Clint's face at her response, on that said she was both utterly dumb and utterly his with her response. A look that said You are one of my kids. In case it needed to be said, he gruffly put into words what Laura would have said much better. "Family shows up." Kate was that to him, in whatever form she'd accept. Daughter, little sister. Friend. Mentee. He'd somehow acquired a rich street urchin with something to prove and he was glad she hadn't let him shake her. She'd done the Hawkeye name proud. He wasn't so retired he couldn't have her back one more time.
As many times as it took.
"Besides. Laura has gotten into home remodeling. I'm useless if I don't have an opinion, and I'm in the way when I have the wrong opinion on bathroom cabinets." He said it with the much beleaguered pain of a man who was absolutely smitten with a wife who could precisely smash through dry wall and install plumbing. There was literally nothing his wife couldn't do, and he would humble brag about her every chance he got. "So I figured I'd get out of the city while she redid our home."
He stood and got her some water, offering it over before sitting again. She was looking hurt and tired, but resolved. She'd grown a lot while he'd been gone. Grown further into the person he knew she'd become. She reminded him so much of Nat in some ways. That quiet resolve, even if the exterior covering it was different.
The look on Kate's face said it all. The thin lipped but wide smile, the joy that now reached those watery eyes, that slight blush blooming on her cheeks and that mixed up with the purples and yellows and the black on her bruises. Kate reached for his hand, holding tightly onto it.
For how many years had she tried to be strong and independent and only depend on herself to get back on her two feet? Following her mom's steps too, in a way. But when Kate met Clint, she had not wasted any time in showing him she could do things like a pro. Wearing Ronin's mask, protecting her identity like a professional. Rescuing him. Taking care of everything.
She had half-failed most of the time. But Clint had been there, pushing her to excell. Reminding her to trust on her partner. The same partner that, after her mother had been taken to prison, had taken her to his home and family for the holidays.
Clint would never leave her on her own devices.
"Sounds like a fair plan. What's she remodelling? Is she making that crafts room she wanted?" Honestly, the woman deserved it. And Clint was such a doting dad that her finding time to practice her hobbies wouldn't be a problem if she had the space and supplies.
It was such a perfect family.
"Oh, he's with one of Matt's friends, at this bar. Matt's apartment exploded and we had to jump out of the balcony." She explianed. "But I told Lucky that we were going for a walk and pizza and he went straght downstairs before that happened!"
Clint held her hand. He'd gotten better at this over the years. Had taught how to be compassionate and kind to other people, how to show it in ways that were easy to accept. He had lost his way a time or two, but he'd been lucky to have loved ones who always ended up anchoring him to those principles. That it was strong to be kind, that it was wise to show compassion. That nothing was ever so far lost that nothing was left for which to fight.
"She first remodeled Lila's room because she wanted a unicorn star scape on her walls and ceiling, whatever the hell that is. I've seen it and I'm still confused but I've had to come up with unicorn constellation stories ever since. Then she decided that the master bathroom needed to be reworked because I have 'old man hips' and we both needed a better tub situation. I should tell her to work on the crafts room for herself. You know that didn't cross her radar. It's all the kids and us as a couple." He made a mental note to use Kate's suggestion as a gentle encouragement. "Thanks for that."
He absolutely had no qualms about taking the kids and giving their mother a day or two a week to herself. He greedily wanted the time after he'd lost so much with work.
"Matt's apartment exploded?" Well hell. That was for later, when he talked to Matt. For now he was focused on Kate. "You have that dog wrapped around your finger, of course he listened to you. And you're doing right by him. I know Josie's. Matt and I used to go there when... we were younger, and I'll stop there." Nope, no stories of twenties Matt and Clint being dumb. He was a married, respectable man. "I wanna see the mutt, but later. Tomorrow or when you're up to it, you can show me around. Give me the lay of the land only a Hawkeye can."
A beat.
"Fisk is just a petty, small tyrant. The world's had plenty of them. Not diminishing the hurt he's caused, but at the end of the day? That's all they ever are. Small, petty. Weak. Your city has this, Kate. You've got this. Me? I'm just here for the show."
He wasn't here to take over. He wasn't here to lead, or wear a certain mantel. He was here for her. For them. For the city. To support those who now stood tall, and let them know they would win this fight.
Kate bounced their joined hands lightly, as if setting a beat. As if the sheer excitement of having him back in New York brought up this renewed energy in her, no matter how badly wounded she was.
It was simply exciting. Touching, even. Because even though Lila was pretty much a teen, she still was only a girl. One that got to enjoy her dad. Nate, the early bird, didn't have to call and wander around the house on his own just because it was an unholy hour even for someone like Laura. Cooper was a sweet boy, one which Kate (and Matt) suspected had a crush on her. Kate gave him room not to make things weird, but found it adorable.
"No problem, Hawk Guy." Kate expression took a smug little shift. "See? This is why I always tell you that communication is important. You always need my feedback and ideas."
And she needed his. His plans. His experience.
But Clint had other ideas. She knew that he had brought his equipment. Hell, he had already given Fisk men a taste of what was to come. But Clint was also making a big statement by showing her so much trust.
"I'm sure Josie will be happy to see you. And Lucky. Lucky's gonna be all over the moon." Clint could claim the dog's heart belonged to Kate, but he had also a slice of his own he had taken back home.
"We're building an army." She suddenly begun, her tone much quieter, almost unsure if it was her place to explain it on her own. "Not just heroes. We want to change the way people see Fisk. Open their eyes. You..." Clint could help Matt reach them. "People believe in you. I've been there. I'm still there."
In the kitchen, as much as Matt tried to drown out the conversation between Clint and Kate, he couldn't help but hear parts of it. He heard her telling Clint that the people of the city believed in him. She believed in him. They needed the former Avenger. He wasn't enough. Matt paused in the meal he was making, stilling so much that Claire asked if he was all right.
He brushed her off, he finished making the quick stir fry and let it in her hands to keep warm. He moved to her fire escape and left the building for the roof. Yes, it was getting past curfew. No he didn't care. He did move a rooftop or two away, to protect Claire's space. If anyone wanted to find him up here, well. Let them come. He needed some air.
Inside the room, Clint remained stalwart with Kate, understanding the history behind her words. He didn't diminish them, nor the responsibility he still felt for the city.
"I might need your ideas but I'm not gonna suggest you give color scheme ideas for our bedroom." A beat, then more seriously, "People believe in you. I'm here, Kate. For as long as needed. I'll stand up and say that Fisk is wrong. But I think it matters more for the people who live here now to say it. To live it. To fight for it. Everyone might remember me fondly, but they also know this isn't my home anymore. They want to see you. And Matt. And Josie, and everyone who this matters to most.
I'm here for you to believe in, but this city needs for you to be the person they believe in now.
Tempted as she was to describe the positive things about having a glow in the dark galaxy in your bedroom ceiling, the conversation took another turn. An unexpected one. Because Clint had not come with all the solutions they needed, but with support.
"But..."
Kate tried to argue, to point out that Matt, Peter and Luke and everyone else, they needed all the help they could get. Hell, all the talk they had about the importance of brands? Kate should have made a powerpoint. She could have pulled that out right now to remind him of every important point in there.
Until she understood what Clint meant.
"It's just..." Her tone faltered, unsure. "Everyone in the world knows who you are. It's the kind of endorsment we need. Because..." It felt wrong, comparing her friends to her hero. She had always put Clint on a pedestal. But Matt, Pete... They were the people that were the true heart of this city. People admired the Avengers and what they did for the world. They respected the sacrifice. Their monument always had fresh flowers for Natasha.
But people loved Daredevil for taking the fear away from them. For proving that the rich and untouchable could meet justic. Matt would prove it again, in time. She's sure. People loved Spider-Man for being one of them, a guy next door that worried about the problems of the people next door.
She hoped to one day do enough meaningful things to earn that same sort of trust and love.
At least Clint believed in her.
"You have more experience than us leading up big teams. I know--" She glanced at the door, clearly worried. "Matt pushes himself too much. He needs all the support he can get and I don't know how to help him."
A part of Clint wished that he had Nat there right now. Nat, or Steve. Maybe not Fury. Someone to help him navigate mentoring this next generation of street vigilantes. Matt wasn't really the next generation, he'd been around nearly as long as Clint had, but this was new territory for him. Leading an army. Matt had always been the loose canon even Fury didn't want to touch, because Matt played by his own playbook too much for the spy's taste. Matt was content to defend the hell out of ten blocks of Manhattan because that was his home. It was very different in some ways than Clint, but he understood and respected it.
Now though Matt and Peter and Luke and Jessica couldn't just run around doing their own thing and manage to save the day. They would have to work together in ways they never had in the past. Kate had come into this with a partnership foundation, but in juxtaposition, she then doubted her worth outside of the duo partnership.
If Clint stepped in and took over, he was just inviting the locals to rely on a system that wasn't part of their whole. Not really. They needed to know they could manage on their own. As much as Clint wanted to hold Kate close, to reassure it was fine, to stand alongside her and save the day for her. He wanted to take away all her pain and all her doubt and be her hero. He loved her, so he wanted that for her.
He loved her, so he knew that he had to show her she could save not only herself, but so much more.
He wanted Lila to one day walk along the streets at night, secure not because he was her dad, but because knowing women like Kate and Laura she was sure she could save herself. Empower a person, and they moved mountains. Even one as big as Fisk.
Trust one person, and they would save the world.
"Sounds like you need better marketing, then." His tone was gruff and playful, teasing her to huff rather than be uncertain. "You can help him by doing what Nat and I did for one another. What you and I do for each other. Call him out on his shit. Trust him when he tells you he needs it. Trust yourself to know the difference. Matt can take away their fear, Peter can let them know they're not alone, and you? You can show them that everyone can make a difference. All it takes it making a choice.
I'll talk to Matt. If he'll listen. What I would do though as a SHIELD Agent and Avenger isn't what you and Matt will do, and that's okay. Trust yourself. Trust one another. I'll go on record and say I'm following Daredevil's army. I'll throw my weight into this fight. But it will be fought and won on your terms. I believe in you. So the question is, you gonna let some petty tyrant prove me wrong?"
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streetlevel) wrote2024-12-23 08:39 pm
Awesome, let's goooo.
Not guilty. Of course.
Fisk had tried to spin it to the public that new evidence had been submitted that showed it was all justified in the amount of force used, but that of course he'd be keeping a vigilant eye on his team. He'd ensure they were trained and supervised by the best while a new commissioner was found. After all, the masked vigilantes were causing such chaos, the men had to keep them under control. If only these menaces would stop, the city could get back to order. Surely, if the vigilantes wanted peace, then ceasing to go out and fight would be easy, right? Unless they were after something more nefarious.
Some people bought it. Others didn't. There was at least that much. Not everyone was buying Fisk's bullshit.
Fisk had also thanked Matt in public for saving him. 'The city needs good men of principle to put their lives on the line. I wouldn't be here today, Counselor, if not for you. I wouldn't be the man I am, doing what I am for this city, without you, Mr. Murdock. Remember that.'
The task force had followed Matt after the trial, first accosting him in the bathroom, then just past the courtroom crowds. For the first time in a long time, Matt hadn't been sure he'd win. He wasn't sure he did win. He'd sensed the faint heat from a recording device and managed to smash it, breaking the officer's hand for good measure. They wanted Matt Murdock on camera doing what Daredevil could. When that failed, they took to simply beating him. Matt held his own long enough to get away, but it was a stalemate, not a win.
He arrived at Claire's door again, bloodied and favoring his left side. Claire sighed and went to fetch some of Luke's clothing for him. He changed into the black t-shirt and sweatpants, but they were clearly baggy on him. He called Kirsten to say he needed yet another new suit, then headed for Kate's room, knocking on the door before entering. He limped to the bed, sitting heavily on the end of it and giving her a smile that couldn't fully hide the pain.
"Hey. Hungry?"
🙌🙌🙌
"Wanna go out there limping to what? Faint in the middle of the street? You can barely move and I haven't slept a blink to fix you up. If you still want to go out there, be my guest. But I'm not patching you up again. Matt can take care of this mess."
Kate quickly learned that Matt's friend didn't have much of a temper, but leaned towards tough love. She was just as worried as Kate had been, checking on the news herself. But also bringing her soft drinks and checking on her regularly. Even helping her to the bathroom. Claire had a good heart, but life had toughen her up.
Aware that there was nothing she could do but take things easy and recover as quickly as possible, Kate let sleep catch up with her, waking up every couple of hours only to check social media again and passing out for another nap.
She still had her phone in hand when the weight of Matt's body made the bed shift, shaking her awake.
The new cuts and bruises on her face truly shook her up. She reached out, grabbing his forearm.
"What happened?"
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He gave a small, slow shake of his head.
"It's fine. I handled it."
Heather, so cold in the courtroom towards him. She wanted him to open up to her, but with the foundation that he was in the wrong about vigilantes. How could he be open when she would only hear what she wanted? Not that he was willing to listen in return to how wonderful Fisk was.
Fisk, who made sure Matt knew that everything Fisk did now was on Matt's shoulders.
He was fine. He could handle it.
He was lost in his thoughts so much that if Kate had talked, he hadn't heard. He roused himself a little and shook his head. "Sorry. I'm back. What was that?"
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He was exhausted, that one thing she knew for sure. Up for almost a two days and one night, beaten up and handling a rough day at work. But these fresh wounds?
Suddenly, Kate grunted, grimacing as she scooted aside, making room on the double bed. Before Matt could complain, she grabbed a fistful of that black t-shirt, tugging onto it and encouraging him to get on the bed.
"You need to lie down. You're barely sitting up, Matt." There was no room to argue. He surely knew that tone well by now.
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Maybe he'd lie down for a minute. Just a minute.
His head drowsily tilted in her direction, listening for her heartbeat. Trying to sense how her injuries were doing. "What was Claire's verdict on your recovery? Not that I don't trust your self-assessment..." but he didn't entirely trust what she might say about her own status.
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Honestly, if there's one thing she had to thank that bunch of pigs for was how they had kicked her on the ribs, hitting the right side. Well, the left side. The correct one for Kate to be able to turn on her side and face Matt properly.
There wasn't much more room in the bed anymore. But she couldn't care less.
"The veredict is that is that I'm good enough to tell you to shut up and rest." He had washed his face. Or Claire had helped him after fixing him up, but Kate could see some crust of dry blood on the corner of his mouth. Without thinking, she reached over and carefully wiped it with her thumb.
She watched Matt, his face bruised, his forehead swollen. Had they attacked him in court? Things had not escalated outside, but she had no idea what had happened behind closed doors. Fisk had been there. He was starting a cold war during day time and was now celebrating how justice had won, favoring his men.
Kate's hand rested on Matt's chest, right over his heart. How much more of this could he take? He had to be tired in body and mind and emotionally too.
"Was it the same guys from last night?" She had seen it. The task force had been there.
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She hadn't really answered his question. He'd circle back around to it, or ask Claire if Kate wouldn't tell him. For now he just answered her question.
"Yeah. Some of the same guys, at least. Powell is really gunning for me." A beat. "I may have antagonized him a little." Which hadn't been smart, but Powell had been antagonizing Matt right back. They'd hated one another since Hector's case. "I fought them. Wouldn't say I beat them. But they didn't follow me." He was more than a little disappointed in himself for not doing more, but really, it wasn't like he could even drop them off at the police station to be arrested these days. Since he wasn't willing to kill, it was just a constant circle of beating them down and letting them heal.
With his free hand he rubbed his eyes a little, wincing as his fingers hit a sore area.
"How are you? Really?"
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But there was no twisted meanings in here. They were sharing a bed because neither of them had a home at the moment. They were laying next to each other, because the world felt massive and alone and turned upside-down. But they understood each other and what was at risk. Kate knew the burden Matt carried, so much heavier as he intended to be the face of this revolution.
With the blanket between their bodies, it felt safe. Like she wasn't really crossing a boundary as she scooted closer. Her arm was drapped properly over his chest now as Matt held her hand. She felt the side of his arm against her chest while Kate rested her chin on his shoulder. She closed her eyes, listening as he spoke.
"Of course you gave him a run for his money." It hurt a little, as her lower lip was split. Aren't those tiny wounds the ones that hurt the most? Like freaking cutting your thumb with paper. Still, even if smiling hurt, it was worth it. "That guy is such a jerk. You know what? I don't give a fuck. We're breaking his legs. Or his back maybe? I need him out of the game for a while." Or for good.
Maybe they needed to start playing a little dirtier.
The mood shifted as Matt asked again. Softer this time. He was always worried about her.
"Like shit," Kate practically breathed out the words in a laugh. "Claire says that it's a miracle that nothing is broken. But they popped my gunshot cherry, so that's something."
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Or was the Devil temping someone good, because he really wanted revenge?
It was hard not to want to kill Powell himself hearing about her injuries. Wincingly he pushed himself to sit a little more upright, concern etched on his face. His gaze was unfocused but his brow furrowed, and he reached out to lightly touch her bandage. A reminder he wasn't able to protect everyone all the time, but part of him still hating himself for that. The reality that it was his Catholic guilt talking, because this was as much Kate's fight as his.
Matt's phone pinged, saying he had a message.
Clint Barton. Clint Barton. Clint Barton.
Matt groaned as he rolled over, answering his phone with the voice to text option. He put it on speaker.
"Matt."
So you just go and have a revolution and not invite me? Here I thought we had something special at that bodega twenty years ago, Murdock.
Met some of your friends on my way in. Sweethearts, aren't they?
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She watched him, his gaze seemingly lost on some distant spot, but his mind as sharp as always. He worried. No matter how beaten and in how much pain, Matt only truly felt the pain in others.
"It's like a cold war, isn't it?" Just like Cherry and detective Kim described it. They needed to be strategic about every move.
As Matt's phone rang, Kate rolled over, her head falling heavily on Claire's soft pillows. It was like being devoured by a cloud. Of course, as soon as she heard Clint's name, her head went up as if the pillow cloud had just burnt her.
"Clint? Fuck..."
And her body was now complaining over the sudden move.
"Wait, is he here?"
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No, I'm in Mexico with Laura, enjoying a margarita and some assholes came to find me to tell me how much they hate me wearing a Hawaiian shirt. Of course I'm in the city. Where else would I be after all these news reports?
Thank God it only sent messages, not voices attached to them.
Matt wincingly sat up in bed, wondering why he felt guilty. Clint was a colleague. He was Kate's mentor and one of her best friends. There was nothing wrong with what they'd been doing. There was, quite literally, only one bed and both of them were injured. He should just be glad to have Clint's expertise. What was wrong with him?
"Sorry. It's been a long few weeks. We're at Claire's right now, but the homebase is Josie's Bar. Are you... is your family all right?"
My wife is tougher than you'll ever be, Murdock. She and the kids will be fine. They'll kick my ass if I don't check on Kate with the city gone to shit. I was gonna message her, but then I realized, if messages are being tracked, I'd rather put your ass on the line. Not like you don't know a good lawyer to handle what comes from it.
Kate's where? I'm heading wherever that is.
"She's at Claire's. She's all right. ... it was a rough night, Clint, but she's all right."
Silence.
"Clint?"
ETA 23 min. 25 if I'm feeling productive along the way.
Matt fell back against the mattress and closed that message thread. Well. Maybe they wouldn't have to worry about Powell after all.
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But fuck that. She was too excited now to let worries and overthinking overpower her. That huge toothy smile that almost crossed her face spoke for itself. It reached her blue eyes as she looked up at Matt, gruntng as she sat up too. As if leaning closer to his phone could help her hear better.
Clint. Her mentor, partner - slash - best friend. It squeezed at her heart in the best way possible, hearing that mechanic voice read up his words. Clint was willing to leave it all to come help her.
Soon enough she was lying back down next to Matt, turning to him and showing no shame as she hugged him.
"This is it. We have an Avenger on our side. We're so kicking these guys in the ass."
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A small part of Matt, a very small and petty part, worried that everyone would follow Clint now. Like Kate said, they had an Avenger with them. A known global hero, a renown spy. A man who despite those claims of international fame was also a local street hero. Someone who the people of New York might rally around instead of Matt. If that was for the good of the city, shouldn't Matt step aside? Why was it bothering him when the city and not his ego should be all that mattered?
He'd figure it out later. Step aside gracefully, if it came to that. Right now, he'd just bask in Kate's glow that he could feel without seeing.
"You know, this is how Clint and I met. Remember I told you? Years ago. We fought off a cop that was roughing up a kid who'd stolen from a bodega. Funny how that's come full circle."
Clint could be trusted in this fight.
"Hope it's all right I told him you had a rough night. Didn't want him to arrive and be surprised."
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Because, embarrassing as it had been to be waiting on the floor of a rooftop, rain pouring as she bled away, well... Screw it. Things were turning around. The public was starting to side with them, remembering all about Fisk's true colors. Clint was coming.
And Matt... It was nice to be held like that. To have someone she feels so close to. She might not have Matt's refined nose, and that is probably Luke's cologne that he is wearing. But there's something so soothing about resting her head on his chest, being held, catching that scent that was particularly his. Being warm, knowing someone was taking care of dinner. That tonight they would actually sleep.
Knowing her partner was crossing town just to come check on her.
"I remember. You guys saved the bodega kid that turned to be an artist." The one they once thought might have a clue to find Muse. Goddamn. That felt like something that had happened a lifetime ago.
"It's fine. For the better, probably." Kate had to admit. "He'll probably give me less shit if he's not surprised." Kate looked up, staring at Matt for a moment. That stubble was short of becoming a full beard. He was bruised, looked so tired. Probably too tired to understand how truly big it is to have Clint there with them.
"How was court? I know you didn't win, but it was what you expected, right?"
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How could he be, when he was living with a woman who aligned herself with Fisk? What if he was fooling himself in thinking he could sway Heather to his side?
"I just, um. Dinner. I should make dinner." This was absolutely peak Matt having no clue what to do, so he was going to cook. He was going to do something. Matt slid out of bed and steadied himself on the bed with one hand. He counted until his blood pressure evened out and he wouldn't faint. "It's the least I can do for Claire. And you. I should check in with the others, too."
There was a sound in the other room. A warm greeting. Matt shuffled to the door, but there was a knock before he reached it and Claire opened it. Clint was standing beside him. He was dressed down for now, but there was a bag with him. Minor scuffles, signs that he had indeed fought some on his way there, but nothing that looked alarming. "Murdock. You look like shit." His gaze moved past Matt and he moved to Kate without preamble. "What happened?"
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But before she could protest, reminding him that they can order dinner, Kate herself heard the door. Soon enough Clint was there, in the flesh. A couple of bruises decorating his own face, that gruff but yet welcoming tone in his voice. Kate beamed, already making an effort to get out of bed.
"No! No, no, no, get back to bed! You're gonna mess those stitches," Claire called out, her hand held at arm's lenght as if that could stop Kate. The nurse turned her attention to Matt, as if his sole presence was a bad influence. "A little help?"
Kate in the meantime, she was happy to weakly put her arms around Clint this time. "What happened? A bunch of Fisk's guys will say a bus run them over, but it was actually me."
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Inside the room, Clint gave Kate a large hug in return. "Yeah, I believe that. Glad to hear you gave them hell." He just wished she hadn't gotten it in return, too. After a long embrace he tried to ease her back onto the bed. This operation was rickety at best, but who was he to talk. Some of the missions he'd been on with Nat in his day, they shouldn't have had a prayer, either. He sat on the edge of the bed, his bag resting on the floor. "Laura was half out the door herself. You gotta call her tonight or else she will come. The kids wanna hear from you, too."
A beat, then in a voice that was slightly chiding, "You could have called me sooner, Kate. With that shitshow out there? I would have come."
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Clint had filled a void in Kate. Almost fitted the shape her dad had left after dying. A shape that became more painfully bigger since she felt her mom betray everything Kate stood for.
But Clint would always be there. Reminding her to be brave, to have hope. If he could face a bunch of aliens with a string and sticks, then she could beat the shit out of some corrupt cops.
"I swear they look worse than this," Kate pointed out proudly, cocking her head as she smiled goofily. She allowed Clint to gently get her back in bed. But not for a second did she lose the spark of joy in the way she looked at him.
"I'm tempted to facetime them just to see their faces, but that's probably going to backfire with Laura." Oh, she would so go back to mom mode. "I'll call in a bit, I promise." After dinner. If she doesn't pass out. Thank god she took those naps...
Something softened in her. It wasn't guilt, but awareness. Hope that she wouldn't disappoint him with the choice she made. "I didn't want to worry you, not over this. It's not your mess to clean, Clint. You deserve your time with the kids."
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As many times as it took.
"Besides. Laura has gotten into home remodeling. I'm useless if I don't have an opinion, and I'm in the way when I have the wrong opinion on bathroom cabinets." He said it with the much beleaguered pain of a man who was absolutely smitten with a wife who could precisely smash through dry wall and install plumbing. There was literally nothing his wife couldn't do, and he would humble brag about her every chance he got. "So I figured I'd get out of the city while she redid our home."
He stood and got her some water, offering it over before sitting again. She was looking hurt and tired, but resolved. She'd grown a lot while he'd been gone. Grown further into the person he knew she'd become. She reminded him so much of Nat in some ways. That quiet resolve, even if the exterior covering it was different.
"Where's the mutt?"
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For how many years had she tried to be strong and independent and only depend on herself to get back on her two feet? Following her mom's steps too, in a way. But when Kate met Clint, she had not wasted any time in showing him she could do things like a pro. Wearing Ronin's mask, protecting her identity like a professional. Rescuing him. Taking care of everything.
She had half-failed most of the time. But Clint had been there, pushing her to excell. Reminding her to trust on her partner. The same partner that, after her mother had been taken to prison, had taken her to his home and family for the holidays.
Clint would never leave her on her own devices.
"Sounds like a fair plan. What's she remodelling? Is she making that crafts room she wanted?" Honestly, the woman deserved it. And Clint was such a doting dad that her finding time to practice her hobbies wouldn't be a problem if she had the space and supplies.
It was such a perfect family.
"Oh, he's with one of Matt's friends, at this bar. Matt's apartment exploded and we had to jump out of the balcony." She explianed. "But I told Lucky that we were going for a walk and pizza and he went straght downstairs before that happened!"
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"She first remodeled Lila's room because she wanted a unicorn star scape on her walls and ceiling, whatever the hell that is. I've seen it and I'm still confused but I've had to come up with unicorn constellation stories ever since. Then she decided that the master bathroom needed to be reworked because I have 'old man hips' and we both needed a better tub situation. I should tell her to work on the crafts room for herself. You know that didn't cross her radar. It's all the kids and us as a couple." He made a mental note to use Kate's suggestion as a gentle encouragement. "Thanks for that."
He absolutely had no qualms about taking the kids and giving their mother a day or two a week to herself. He greedily wanted the time after he'd lost so much with work.
"Matt's apartment exploded?" Well hell. That was for later, when he talked to Matt. For now he was focused on Kate. "You have that dog wrapped around your finger, of course he listened to you. And you're doing right by him. I know Josie's. Matt and I used to go there when... we were younger, and I'll stop there." Nope, no stories of twenties Matt and Clint being dumb. He was a married, respectable man. "I wanna see the mutt, but later. Tomorrow or when you're up to it, you can show me around. Give me the lay of the land only a Hawkeye can."
A beat.
"Fisk is just a petty, small tyrant. The world's had plenty of them. Not diminishing the hurt he's caused, but at the end of the day? That's all they ever are. Small, petty. Weak. Your city has this, Kate. You've got this. Me? I'm just here for the show."
He wasn't here to take over. He wasn't here to lead, or wear a certain mantel. He was here for her. For them. For the city. To support those who now stood tall, and let them know they would win this fight.
That he believed in her always.
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It was simply exciting. Touching, even. Because even though Lila was pretty much a teen, she still was only a girl. One that got to enjoy her dad. Nate, the early bird, didn't have to call and wander around the house on his own just because it was an unholy hour even for someone like Laura. Cooper was a sweet boy, one which Kate (and Matt) suspected had a crush on her. Kate gave him room not to make things weird, but found it adorable.
"No problem, Hawk Guy." Kate expression took a smug little shift. "See? This is why I always tell you that communication is important. You always need my feedback and ideas."
And she needed his. His plans. His experience.
But Clint had other ideas. She knew that he had brought his equipment. Hell, he had already given Fisk men a taste of what was to come. But Clint was also making a big statement by showing her so much trust.
"I'm sure Josie will be happy to see you. And Lucky. Lucky's gonna be all over the moon." Clint could claim the dog's heart belonged to Kate, but he had also a slice of his own he had taken back home.
"We're building an army." She suddenly begun, her tone much quieter, almost unsure if it was her place to explain it on her own. "Not just heroes. We want to change the way people see Fisk. Open their eyes. You..." Clint could help Matt reach them. "People believe in you. I've been there. I'm still there."
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He brushed her off, he finished making the quick stir fry and let it in her hands to keep warm. He moved to her fire escape and left the building for the roof. Yes, it was getting past curfew. No he didn't care. He did move a rooftop or two away, to protect Claire's space. If anyone wanted to find him up here, well. Let them come. He needed some air.
Inside the room, Clint remained stalwart with Kate, understanding the history behind her words. He didn't diminish them, nor the responsibility he still felt for the city.
"I might need your ideas but I'm not gonna suggest you give color scheme ideas for our bedroom." A beat, then more seriously, "People believe in you. I'm here, Kate. For as long as needed. I'll stand up and say that Fisk is wrong. But I think it matters more for the people who live here now to say it. To live it. To fight for it. Everyone might remember me fondly, but they also know this isn't my home anymore. They want to see you. And Matt. And Josie, and everyone who this matters to most.
I'm here for you to believe in, but this city needs for you to be the person they believe in now.
And you will. I've no doubt."
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"But..."
Kate tried to argue, to point out that Matt, Peter and Luke and everyone else, they needed all the help they could get. Hell, all the talk they had about the importance of brands? Kate should have made a powerpoint. She could have pulled that out right now to remind him of every important point in there.
Until she understood what Clint meant.
"It's just..." Her tone faltered, unsure. "Everyone in the world knows who you are. It's the kind of endorsment we need. Because..." It felt wrong, comparing her friends to her hero. She had always put Clint on a pedestal. But Matt, Pete... They were the people that were the true heart of this city. People admired the Avengers and what they did for the world. They respected the sacrifice. Their monument always had fresh flowers for Natasha.
But people loved Daredevil for taking the fear away from them. For proving that the rich and untouchable could meet justic. Matt would prove it again, in time. She's sure. People loved Spider-Man for being one of them, a guy next door that worried about the problems of the people next door.
She hoped to one day do enough meaningful things to earn that same sort of trust and love.
At least Clint believed in her.
"You have more experience than us leading up big teams. I know--" She glanced at the door, clearly worried. "Matt pushes himself too much. He needs all the support he can get and I don't know how to help him."
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Now though Matt and Peter and Luke and Jessica couldn't just run around doing their own thing and manage to save the day. They would have to work together in ways they never had in the past. Kate had come into this with a partnership foundation, but in juxtaposition, she then doubted her worth outside of the duo partnership.
If Clint stepped in and took over, he was just inviting the locals to rely on a system that wasn't part of their whole. Not really. They needed to know they could manage on their own. As much as Clint wanted to hold Kate close, to reassure it was fine, to stand alongside her and save the day for her. He wanted to take away all her pain and all her doubt and be her hero. He loved her, so he wanted that for her.
He loved her, so he knew that he had to show her she could save not only herself, but so much more.
He wanted Lila to one day walk along the streets at night, secure not because he was her dad, but because knowing women like Kate and Laura she was sure she could save herself. Empower a person, and they moved mountains. Even one as big as Fisk.
Trust one person, and they would save the world.
"Sounds like you need better marketing, then." His tone was gruff and playful, teasing her to huff rather than be uncertain. "You can help him by doing what Nat and I did for one another. What you and I do for each other. Call him out on his shit. Trust him when he tells you he needs it. Trust yourself to know the difference. Matt can take away their fear, Peter can let them know they're not alone, and you? You can show them that everyone can make a difference. All it takes it making a choice.
I'll talk to Matt. If he'll listen. What I would do though as a SHIELD Agent and Avenger isn't what you and Matt will do, and that's okay. Trust yourself. Trust one another. I'll go on record and say I'm following Daredevil's army. I'll throw my weight into this fight. But it will be fought and won on your terms. I believe in you. So the question is, you gonna let some petty tyrant prove me wrong?"
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