#every deadpool panel is gold | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

powertobehandsome · 8 years

Text

Blind Date || Matt and Seth

In which Shiv and I decided to do a random little thing so I can try to better grasp the voice of Seth. And it goes from ridiculous to hilarious to heartbreaking in a matter of seconds. -- @violent-nobility

"Fuck," Carol groaned as she slowly sat up, holding a hand against her head. "Fuck, fuck, fuck... shit. You guys okay?"

"Other than being in the closet," Matt responded, his voice dry as ever. "I am, but Oliver's still out." He was sitting against the wall, the Arrow's head and shoulders in his lap, and he held onto him protectively.

"Closet?" Carol blinked, but as her vision cleared, she saw that he meant it literally. They were in some kind of cleaning supply closet -- explained the smell. She pushed herself up and brushed bits of grit and soot off of her supersuit, then slowly got to her feet. "What the hell happened?"

"Deadpool." Matt's voice was tight, angry, and quiet. "He saw the opportunity to steal something from Thanos, I don't know what it was, but he took it and.. when he did, something -- we just fell. Gravity felt like it -- turned off." He licked his lips and gave a small shake of his head. "But I'm guessing he's here, somewhere. We just have to find him."

"Okay." Carol nodded and reached down to lift Oliver up. As she did, he woke, although groggily. Blood streamed down the side of his head, dripping from the side of his mask. "Ollie?"

"Fine," he murmured, then nodded. "I'm fine."

"Okay... so... we just need to find Deadpool, steal back the gem, it'll be fine. How hard can it be to find a guy in a conspicuous red suit?" Carol helped Matt up, then went and opened the door -- into one of the loudest, most crowded places she'd seen in a long time...

Where at least ten Deadpools were cavorting together.

"Sweet costumes!" a Stormtrooper said as they passed by. Carol looked own at her own costume -- blue, red, gold. Blood. Soot. Oliver's dark green leather was badly scuffed, and he was covered in all sorts of wounds. Matt just looked like an insane ninja in his black blindfold and skintight black shirt -- god she loved that shirt on him though -- and cargo pants. He wasn't bleeding, but from the way he had his arm held against his chest, she was guessing he'd hurt it.

Right. Okay.

"This... is an actual nightmare I've had," Ollie muttered as the Deadpools started cartwheeling together, to shrieks and applause from the huge audience of con-goers.

"It'll be fine. We just need to find the right one."

Seth had a booth set up in the center of the great hall, directly catty-corner to both the marvel and the DC sets. He had the prime location, and it had cost a pretty penny. But his mother believed in him, believed in his new comic, and this gave Seth every opportunity to geek out as cosplayer after cosplayer stopped by, picked up a copy of ATOMIC COUNTY and let him take a picture along with their payment.

He'd used his phone to get a few pictures of the cartwheeling Deadpools, and just happened to look over to his right as a collection of the most obscure collection of cosplayers all but limped out of a janitorial closet between two of the concession stands. "Ryan... Ryan look at this. Do you think this is an orgy gone wrong? You see, I always knew Comic Con would be different if I stayed stationary, if I was in the mix of it and able to just watch people come and go. Speak of which, I think these... You know, this is something I haven't really seen since that first week you were in Newport. Do you remember that? The party that we went to after the fashion show. There was the fight on the beach. And I accidentally walked in on an orgy in the bathroom."

"Seth... Your point?"

"My point is, Ryan, that those three... there's something twisted going on there. They all walk out of a closet, dressed in costume, the guys are the ones who look more roughed up. Do you think..."

"Do I think they maybe just had a make out session? And she kicked their asses because they were leaving her out?"

Seth stood and gawked at his best friend, brows raised. "I was going to say do you think that is some of that corn syrup fake blood? Or the stuff that tastes like throw up. Because if I'm going to spread my wings, that means introducing myself to new people."

"You're not going to try to make out with one of them."

"One of them? No, Ryan, all three. This is Comic Con. Go big or go home. What happens in San Diego, stays in San Diego."

"That's Vegas."

"Or Tijuana."

"Seth..."

"Right. Shhh. They're coming this way. Who's winning right now, me or my hair."

"It's your hair, Seth. It's always your hair."

"Do you think they'll-- Hi. Hi guys. Can I interest you in one of my comics. Atomic County. Based off of real life experiences, I've discovered it makes the characters more real, makes them feel less far fetched when it comes to their powers, and the likes. What are you... the Arrow. Are you a Captain Marvel? Very nice. I like the whole layout you've got going with the colors. And who... I mean. I've seen weirder ninjas, I guess. Or are you one of the like... Image comic characters? But welcome. Is the Arrow alright? Is he drunk, or is he just a method actor with that head injury?"

By the time the kid was done talking at them, Oliver was staring at him like he was going to put an arrow through one of his eyes. The three of them had all stopped, surprised at being accosted, but when the kid was done yapping, Oliver just clenched his jaw a little and turned away. Everything hurt and he was lightheaded, but he'd had worse, and there really wasn't time to go get patched up, let alone time to listen to this kid.

"No," was all he said, his voice sharp, and he turned back to Carol. "Ca-- ptain Marvel, we have to go. I don't think any of those are him." Ollie nodded towards the Deadpools, who were now hugging people and signing autographs. "Daredevil?"

Matt, who was thoroughly miserable in the shrieking crowd, lifted his chin and told himself to focus, listening to the group of Deadpools. After a moment, he shook his head. "No. None of them. He's not here. We have to keep moving." He rotated his shoulders as much as he could while still holding his arm against himself.

Carol nodded and turned back to the kid. "Did you see another Deadpool leave this area recently? It's important that we find him now. So please. If you saw him, help us."

Seth watched them, nodding, looking back to Ryan and then lifting his brow as if this was his in, as if this was what he'd planned to happen all along. Because in San Diego? At Comic Con? This was his place, his people.

"Deadpools? Yes. I saw two. Though in this place it might be..."

"Seth..." This time, Ryan was actually helping. "Why don't you show them the way. They don't... seem to exactly know the best places to look. And you are the one who saw them. I'll watch the booth."

"Right. This was fellas... and lady..." Seth walked around the booth, gesturing for Ryan to not forget pictures, and then gestured for them to start heading down toward Hall C. He looked at the man in mostly black.

"So, you're Daredevil. Is it the tie around the eyes that's supposed to be the giveaway. I'm not at all trying to judge costume, that event happens tomorrow night, and I'm not a part of the panel, but are you just going for his early days? Not many people do that these days. I've gotta give you some mad props."

He started to lead them down a left hallway and at this point, he wasn't entirely sure where he was leading them, but he knew he had seen a Deadpool walk in this general direction. Though, it had been a few minutes, and by this point, he could be anywhere.

"So, I have to ask. Everybody else went marvel. Why did you go DC? Is it that you like the darker undertones of the universe? Or is there some other factor?"

"Me?" Oliver asked. This wasn't the first parallel world he had experienced, but even still, he hated this shit, and it came across in his voice. "I don't care about -- DC or Marvel." Whatever that is. "We're here to do a job." Instinctively, he reached out and pulled Matt closer, keeping Matt's injured side next to him.

"Marvel -- named after Captain Marvel?" Matt asked. This was all new for him, all very new, and he didn't like it at all. He didn't get entangled in the bigger stuff, he didn't jump from world to world, he didn't play around with people who had powers. Jesus. This was insane. This was completely, completely insane. "And who are you?"

"I'm Seth Cohen. I was running that booth because I created this comic called Atomic County based on the life I lead with my friend Ryan while we were in high school in Southern California. But I'm sorry. That's irrelevant. What do you mean you don't care about Marvel or DC? They're the two major food groups, they're the super powers of the comic world. They are who every writer and artist want to be involved with..."

Seth pointed to a man dressed in a full Deadpool costume -- a better one than Seth could remember seeing. "There are three there. That one... Hey, guys. That one doesn't have his blades tagged." Looking around, all others in cosplay had orange or green or bright blue bands around their blades, their guns, even their bows. "... Neither do any of you... Are you... Are you going to create some kind of mass killing? Oh god, i've gotten mixed up in the worse kind of crowd. I'm worse than Marissa with Volchuck. And that got her killed. Look. If any of you are going to go rogue, please let it be the Green Arrow. Marvel doesn't need any of the bad rap right now."

The group stopped. Oliver looked at Matt, who was focused entirely on the sound of that Deadpool's heartbeat. Matt looked like shit, Ollie thought, pale and sweating more than he usually did, but he still trusted the man's senses -- and when he saw the slight tightening of Matt's lips, he knew.

"Done," Ollie said to Seth. In an instant, he had nocked and aimed an arrow. "Sebastian Moran!" he snapped -- and only one Deadpool turned, the one with the untagged weapons. In the same instant, Oliver fired. The arrow slammed into Wade's thigh, the force of it enough to take him down -- and he was pinned to the floor. It wouldn't last long, though, and they all knew it. Ignoring the screams, Oliver fit another arrow, but Carol had already moved. She straddled Wade, pinning his arms to his sides.

"Heeeyyy, Carol! Is that you? Gosh, I didn't recognize you in this, um, marvelous place!"

"Give us the stone," she growled.

"How about I give you my fist in your face?" he asked, and jerked an arm free, but Oliver stepped on his wrist and held it down before he could do anything. "I don't have it anymore! Ow, Jesus, what the hell, man?"

In the background, someone whispered, "Oh my god, it's a live performance!" and the shrieks mostly began quieting.

Matt leaned against the wall, out of the picture.

"Where is it." Oliver pressed down harder, absolutely furious. "You stole it. You brought us here. What did you do with it?"

"I gave it to some shiny gold guy." Wade shrugged as best he could. "Adam something. Real crazy eyes. Actually, he looked a lot like Captain Space Lesbian's boy-toy slash mentor. Sort of like maybe Jim Starlin couldn't get over his Mar-Vell crush and just haaaaad to keep drawing him. Except spraypainted gold. I mean, wow, talk about jaundice."

"Who the hell is he talking about?" Oliver looked at Carol.

"I don't--" but she didn't get the chance to finish. Somehow, Wade managed to throw both of them off. He kicked her square in the chest, punched Oliver, flipped away, and was gone.

The room applauded.

The room applauded, but Seth had been pushed back against a wall when the Arrow had pulled his weapon, his untagged weapon. And "Sebastian Moran? Like the Sherlock Holmes character? What in the hell does he have to do with Comic Con? I mean, there's a Sherlock panel tomorrow, but there is no canon adaptation of Moran on that show..." But talking, now, seemed ill advised. He watched the performance slipping behind a few of the spectators.

Looking at the Daredevil who was hiding along the edge of the wall, Seth carefully moved to the doorway through which they'd entered. "Warlock?" If there's a Warlock that's involved in this... cosplay or whatever, Seth knew they needed to get out of here. He had to get Ryan.

Warlock? The concern in the word was enough to attack Matt's attention. He turned towards the young man who'd been helping them -- Seth -- but the kid was already too far away. Pressing his arm a little more firmly against his body, Matt touched the fingertips of his left hand to the wall and started moving along it, trying to follow the kid. Oliver and Carol had already taken off after Wade, and he had to believe they'd catch him -- but if this kid knew who Deadpool had given the infinity stone to, they couldn't afford to waste that information.. or so he'd been led to believe. He still wasn't entirely sure just what the hell it was.

"Wait... wait... Seth! Please." Matt froze when someone whipped around and almost whacked him in the face with their foam sword, but it missed him by a quarter of an inch. He swore silently, ducked under it, then left the wall and moved after the kid as quickly as he could. "Seth?"

"Listen, Daredevil? Or whoever you are," Seth turned on a heel, hand lifted to his mouth, held just in front of it as he tried to come up with the right way to tell him that he couldn't get involved. "I don't know why you wanted me to get involved with this? I don't... I just want to get my friend out of here. Because while everybody else thinks that was a show, your friend in green actually smelled like blood, and you haven't stopped clutching your side until... well, until now. And I don't believe that was an act. I'm not saying I believe the characters of my favorite graphic novels are real, though how cool would that be. But if you are real? And if you're really getting Warlock involved. I just want to go home before all hell breaks loose."

Matt felt like the world was twisting out from under him for the second time that day, listening to this madness. The kid seemed to not only know who they were -- that had been disturbing from the first time he started speaking to the others -- but he thought they were fictional. Maybe Oliver and Carol knew how to handle that, but Matt didn't. This was never what he had signed up for, but it was too late now.

He pulled off his hood and shoved it in his pocket. Although he hated to do this, hated to let people see the way his eyes wandered and sometimes seemed to shiver, he knew that eye contact meant something to the sighted, even when they knew he couldn't see back.

"My name's Matt. Not Daredevil. Seth, look, please. I don't know -- what's going on. I'm not a superhero. I'm a vigilante in Hell's Kitchen. And this -- this is way above my pay grade. But what I do know is that we need help -- information. And maybe it was fate or chance or God, but something put you in our path, and maybe there was a reason for that. Thanos has all of these -- these infinity stone things, I don't -- I don't know what they are. But he wants to destroy the universe, and Carol seems to think he can, if he gets the last one.

"Which Deadpool took. This Warlock guy.. if you know something, please help us. Please. You don't have to get involved, you can turn and run and never look back, but please just -- tell me what you know."

"What I know? What I know is your name is Matt Murdock. Your father's name was Jonathan "Battling Jack" Murdock. He raised you alone, claiming that your mother had died. He wanted you to be more successful than you, like any parent would. He urged you to constantly study instead of playing sports or actively making friends. He hoped that you would become a doctor or a lawyer, which, for the record, is what you did with your best friend, Foggy Nelson. He always referred to himself as an 'uneducated pug' and didn't want you to be like him. But because he wouldn't let you make friends, you got bullied, trained in his gym... Do I need to go on?"

Matt's jaw dropped and he went paler than he had been. He took a step back and held his hand up as if he needed to ward Seth away. The words had come flying out of nowhere, powerful jabs, and he felt sicker than he had a minute ago.

"No," he said, voice suddenly a little hoarse. "No. You..." He wanted to leave. Christ, he wanted to leave, to get the hell out of here and away from this kid -- but Oliver and Carol might not catch Deadpool, and if they were right, bigger shit rested on this. His personal comfort couldn't matter. "Seth. Please. Who is Adam Warlock.. and how do I find him?"

"Oh god... where to start. For the longest time he was just referred to as Him. He...is known for enlisting the aid of the Avengers, and your Captain Marvel in order to stop Thanos. During this battle, his younger self shows up and takes the soul of the older one... He ended up in this Soul World gem? Anyway. After Thanos was resurrected, he collected all the gems and formed the gauntlet. When certain beings tried to resist him, he captured them and threw them into the soul gem with Warlock. Naturally, they all met, and they tried to convince Warlock that Thanos needed to be defeated again.

"But here's the catch. Warlock gets the gauntlet, and then becomes this new near supreme being of the universe. And Adam Warlock? He doesn't care about life. He wants a perfect existence. He wants the gauntlet for himself. So if he has the gems? If Deadpool gave him the last one? Well, in the comics, the Living Tribunal told him that he couldn't be trusted with it and made him divvy up the gems. When Warlock had the gauntlet, he ridded himself of good and evil. He just became this.... being of pure logic. Man, I don't know how to not overwhelm you with his history. I can already see that what I knew about you was too much. But from what I've read of Warlock? Him having the gauntlet is as bad or worse than Thanos..."

Seth shrugged, looking around, trying to let some of his anxiety wither away. "He's too logical. He's always right. But you can never trust him to do the right thing."

Matt shook his head. This was too much. This was too damn much. Still, too much or not, there was no choice but to deal with it. So, after a moment, he nodded. It was a small gesture, but for Matt, it was more than just the acknowledgement of the information; it was an agreement. He'd asked, he'd heard, and now he had to act. It felt, to Matt, like he had just agreed to die -- but he reminded himself that was what he'd chosen. Time and again, he'd chosen death for himself if it meant life for someone else, and this was no different, terrifying a prospect as it was.

"Okay," he said, soft and calm now. "Thank you, Seth. You should... probably go. Get your friend. Hide. Wait it out. I'll try and -- if we can, we'll keep the fight out of the city. Away from -- people."

He should listen, of course he should. Seth wasn't the Ironist. Ryan wasn't the Fists of Fury. Regardless of what his own comics claimed.

"But you're in no condition to face Warlock. Hell, you're in no condition to face Deadpool. Just... Be safe, yeah? I'm a fan of what you do. And Elektra was never right for you."

Matt visibly flinched at the name and he took a step back, nodding. "Yeah. Yeah. Right. Okay. Um. Thank you. Be safe. As safe as you can. Just, uh -- be safe." He hesitated, feeling like this wasn't over somehow, but it had to be. The longer he talked to the kid, the longer it would be before the kid could run off and find somewhere safe.

"Good luck with your comic. I hope that your -- your characters never have to really suffer. Go hide." Matt turned and slipped away, back the way he had come -- exactly the way he had come, following the memory out rather than try to find his way anew, too lost in thought, too distracted by the foundations of his world being nothing more than ash and dust.

Seth watched him leave, pursing his lips, feeling like he should get involved.

He shouldn't get involved.

Ryan would get involved.

He'll understand.

Without calling out to the other man, Seth silently followed him through the crowd.

How much trouble could he get into, anyway?

Matt stopped when he got to the place that he had first touched the wall. Oliver and Carol were still gone -- probably for the best, he knew, but how the hell was he supposed to get any kind of message to them? They needed to know about Warlock, they needed to know how bad this really was --

But he might need to go to a hospital. Arm throbbing, his abdomen aching in a deeper, worse way than the broken bone, Matt leaned against the wall for a moment. The room was absolute din, but there was one softer place in the wall of sound -- a muted place. An open door. Not a door to the outside -- no fresh air -- but it went in the right direction, he thought. He would have to cross the room to get to it, which he wasn't looking forward to doing, not in the shape he was in. Just finding Deadpool had felt like it took whatever remaining strength he had, and now, all he wanted was to find somewhere cool and quiet to curl up and stay.

But that wasn't an option. The kid had given him valuable information, and since they couldn't go back to him to get more -- they couldn't risk putting a target on his back -- he had to stay alive to use that information.

Matt put his mask back on, awkwardly with just one hand. He couldn't go into the crowd with his eyes exposed. People would see. They could get in, but he couldn't stop them, not if his eyes were uncovered. The weight of the hood was subtle but familiar, and he gave a small sigh of relief. He'd get out there, find a way out of the building, find Oliver and Carol and...

It would be fine.

Matt headed into the crowd. It took longer to cross than he had hoped - unless it just felt like it took an age - and then finally he was in an almost quiet hallway. He followed the hints of fresh air until he found an exterior door, pushed it open, and then stepped out into the wonderful warmth of a beautiful day.

Queasy, he tried not to stumble or limp, tried to look as normal as possible as he headed towards the sidewalk but he didn't make it far. Finding a planter, he stopped and leaned against it, hunching over. "No," Matt growled to himself. "Don't do this."

People were starting to stare, and some of the security guards had heard about the show, the one that had not been on the itinerary. Seth had slipped through the people, almost reaching out more than once as Matt had moved along.

Outside, when Matt leaned against the planter, Seth reached to take him by the elbow and take him into a corner created by an inward jut of the wall. "I was never a lifeguard, or anything. But I did take a first aid class once. Where are you hurting?" His fingers moved carefully over ribs, counting, feeling for cracks. "I can drive you to a hospital. I'll call Ryan and have him look for your friends, if you want."

Matt had tensed at the unfamiliar touch, but he relaxed just as quickly. He wasn't too proud to accept help when he needed it -- at least once he admitted to himself that he needed it. Still, he couldn't monopolize this kid's time.. and the kid was supposed to be hiding.

"Aren't you supposed to be.. not here?" he asked, reaching out to put his good hand on Seth's shoulder, steadying himself. "It's in my side," Matt answered and cleared his throat. "Lower, lo-- mm. There." He took as deep a breath as he could and when he let it out, he could hear it shaking. The place he'd stopped Seth's hand wasn't on the last rib, but a few inches below it, where Matt's muscles had bunched up hard as rocks. "I fell on it during the fight. That and my arm -- but that's just a broken bone. This is... Not." He swallowed against the pain. "You shouldn't be getting involved," he said, forcing the words out as calmly as he could, hand clenching just a little too tightly around the kid's shoulder.

Shit.

Matt let go. "Sorry."

That would bruise, likely, but Seth had grit his teeth as his shoulder was clutched.

He held the spot, where Matt was hurting, and Seth tried not to get overly excited that he was essentially in the middle of a comic. He thought about all the people who would walk away from this, and that he, too, should likely be one of those people. But Ryan would be ashamed of him. Sure he'd never directly say it. But Seth needed to get involved. Always. That's what made life exciting, wasn't it? That's what made the difference between being the nerd everybody ignored, and the hero of your own comics.

"That's likely true; there are many times where I look back on my history and I think that I shouldn't have gotten involved, or that Ryan shouldn't get involved but those never make the good stories." Who knew, maybe Seth could sell a pitch for a cross over some day. Or maybe, if nothing else, he could draw it up for himself.

"Now, will you let me take you to the hospital? Or are you going to be one of the stubborn super hero types and insist that you're completely fine. Because, and this is just a personal opinion, but I think your rib is maybe not supposed to be doing that."

"It's not my rib," Matt said quietly. "It's..." Internal bleeding. It's bad. "...soft tissue damage. It's deep. I should be okay, but.. The ribs hurt, but this is... I.." He couldn't get the kid involved -- but he needed help. Matt hesitated a moment longer, then nodded. "Please. Take me to the hospital."

And please forgive me. I'm so sorry.

"It would be convenient, now, if I were Ryan. Because I'd just pick you up and carry you to the car." He laughed awkwardly, took Matt by the hand, and then offered as much strength as he could.

"You said you should be okay, but considering you can barely walk and..." he stopped to give Matt time to breathe, lifting the edge of his shirt just enough to the black bruise that was already spreading across his abdomen. "Yeah. That's kinda what I figured. Let's go."

Seth didn't know San Diego. He plugged in his phone and typed in the hospital, looking for the closest one. Then went around to open the back door. "Lay across the seat. I think that's what's going to be better for you, rather than sitting up the whole way."

With Matt situated, Seth sent a quick text to Ryan and then took off. "Hey... So, I know this is maybe asking a bit too much of the universe, but I kind of need you to not die."

"Okay," Matt agreed, with a soft laugh. It was a strange sound -- cynical and happy at once, an honest promise and a bitter admission of what reality really was. "I won't die in the back of your car. That'd be a pretty crappy way to repay someone for trying to save me, after all.."

Still, now that he was laying down, it was hard to want to stay awake. There was no way that any of this could be real. The entire day was insane -- the premise of the day was insane. It was a bad dream. All of this. There was no Californian supernerd convention where people spoke like prophets. There was no Adam Warlock, no Thanos, no infinity gauntlet. There was no kind, strange young person named Seth who seemed torn between the hyperactivity of youth and the blossoming calm and kindness of an adult. None of this was happening. Matt wasn't dying in the backseat of a car because he couldn't be dying in the backseat of a car -- it was just all too nuts.

Several hours passed before anyone came back out to the waiting room. The person who did was a young, suntanned doctor with dyed red hair and green contacts. She looked around and when a nurse pointed Seth out to her, she walked over him to.

"You're the one who bought the John Doe in? Guy with the broken arm, the injury on his side?"

Seth stood, thinking about how much this woman reminded him of Julie Cooper, but that was no reason to not trust her, certainly.

Or so he told himself.

"I am. Is he... I mean, will he be okay?"

"Would you like to come back and see him? He asked to se-- to talk to you. If you're still here. I can tell him you left, you know -- you don't need to get involved in... whatever this is."

"Do I look that innocent? You know, when I was in high school..." But he couldn't even finish the thought. Seth stood and nodded. "Yes, of course I want to go back to see him. Thanks for your concern, or whatever. But yeah. Please. Take me back there."

The doctor gestured for him to walk in front of her, her unnaturally colored eyes gleaming under the fluorescent lights.

"He should live," she said as they walked back through a maze of corridors. "There was some internal bleeding, but you got him here quick enough. Everything's closed up and cleaned up; your friend just needs to mend. But tell me." Her voice sounded just a shade too innocent, too casual, as she asked, "How did you two meet?"

His brow pinched together and he glanced at the woman, rolling his shoulders. He didn't understand the impulse to lie, but at least he wasn't Ryan. That kid sucked at lying.

"He's been working in the booth next to me through all of Comic Con. Some idiot kids came in and started... I don't know. It was like a riot? Man. Comic nerds can get carried away. But he's a nice guy. His name is Matt. But that's all I know about him."

"He must be a stunt guy or something." She smiled and took him into an elevator. When the doors shut, she stared at Seth before reaching over and hitting the button for the next floor up. "Lots of scars. What's your name?"

"Seth Cohen," he replied, suddenly feeling quite untalkative. "Wait. Wasn't he blind?" It was better to treat him like a normal guy. "I mean. Not that he can't be a stunt guy and blind. California is the place of dreams, right?"

"You ever hear of a blind stunt guy? I guess weirder things have happened. How old are you, Seth?"

"I'm 26. Im sorry, but why is this important?"

"Oh, I'm just curious." She smiled at him again, like he needed to be reassured, then led him down one more hall and into Matt's room.

Matt looked terrible. He looked worse. Significantly worse. There were fresh bruises all over his face and his knuckles. His broken arm hadn't been set and looked like it was swelling badly, and as if the bones weren't quite straight. He was hooked to a few IVs, his eyebrow and lip were split, and he was restrained -- both wrists, ankles, and a strap around his waist, his chest, and his neck.

The doctor put her hand on Seth's shoulder. "You really should tell me the truth," she purred. "He's a very, very dangerous person. Security had a tough time with him... And you don't want to get involved in something like this. Trust me. Now tell me the truth."

Seth squirmed from under the touched and moved closer to Matt, a hand over his mouth, trying to understand what had happened.

"What? I told you the truth. His name is Matt. He worked in the booth next to me. What did you do to him? I'm calling the police."

"Don't worry... We've already called the appropriate authorities." She shut the door and it locked automatically. Smiling, the doctor leaned against it and took a syringe out of her pocket. "Have a seat, Seth.”

"No. What? No. What are you?" He pulled his phone out to call Ryan. Because somehow he would help. "No. I'm reporting you all. What have you done to him?" Seth moved to the far side of the bed, reaching to touch him gently. "I'm sorry, man. I thought I was helping you."

Matt's lips twitched, and then the fingers of his good hand twitched, but he didn't wake.

"You're not going to get a signal in here. All you need to do is sit down and relax. It'll all be over soon.." Her smile widened. "Hail Hydra."

"Hail... What?" Seth's eyes went wide. There's no way this was real. The group, sure. But this...

"What do you want from me?"

"I told you, darling. All I want is the truth about this man. But if you won't give it to me..." She smiled, the very picture of beauty and malicious insincerity. "You won't be any use to me, will you?"

Seth's chin lifted, and the frown on his face showed how close he was to being sick. "Well, since you have trouble believing this face, which I must say is really strange, because I've always been honest, and I'm not sure what you're expecting to get from me? I was born in Newport. I went to high school at harbor. My parents adopted my brother when we were both 16. He dated the girl next door on and off for a few years. Then she died in a car accident. He was there with her when she did. He and I thought about becoming a thing. But with us spending so much time as brothers. We just couldn't get past it. So I don't know why you think I'm lying about this guy I don't know..."

"Oh, you poor, poor dear." There wasn't an ounce of sympathy in her, and she took the cap off the needle, then rested her thumb on the plunger. "Is a stranger really worth your life? He's a bad man, Seth Cohen... with the adopted brother, the tragic backstory, and a family that will surely miss you when you're gone... A vulnerable family, no doubt." She was enjoying this, and her voice went a bit sultry. "Such a darling young man you are.."

"I don't think he's the danger, lady. I think you are." He reached for whatever he could get his hands on -- a rod to hold up bags of medication -- and held it over Matt's body. "I also don't think you're pretty, so you can knock it off with the fake charm."

"Okay." She smiled and lunged at Seth, seeking to grab the rod with one hand so she could inject the obstinate little shit with the other. Stupid brat!

Seth swung as much as he could. He wasn't a fighter. Never had been. But he could swing the rod, and with the strength of a nerd, struck her over the head with it. He jabbed and ended up entirely wound in tubes and the likes, but by the time he was done, she'd nicked his arm with the needle, but he'd managed to make her unconscious. Running to unlock the door, and then take the brakes off the bed, Seth did his best to get them out of that damn hospital.

By the time he was pushing the bed out of the door, Matt started to come to. Sort of. He tried to sit up and winced when he couldn't. For a moment, he looked both truly frightened and truly angry, but then he recognized the smell that was with him, recognized the heartbeat he'd had so much time to listen to in the car.

"Seth. What's.. happening?"

"Apparently hydra knew you were here. Though why they were interested in you, I don't know. Doesn't much matter. We're getting out of here."

"What's hydra?" Matt tried to move again, but bit back a cry of pain when he tugged on his broken arm. "F... can you let me out? I'll move.. faster.. with you... Walking." A plus communication skills there, Murdock.

"The avengers? Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes? Never mind. They're evil." He pulled more tubes free and then stopped the bed, offering a hand, stopping to seemingly catch his balance, eyes closing for a moment. "Weird. Okay. Man. Let's get you out of here. I thought I was helping, but I've only hurnmk..." Seth cleared his throat. "Hurt you more."

Hydra. Right. Hydra. Matt's head felt like he was still halfway asleep, barely able to function, but he did his best to focus. When the restraints around his body were unclipped and the heavy, padded straps taken away, Matt carefully sat up -- but he froze when the kid's throat seemed to tighten. He tried to focus on listening to his heart and his blood, but he couldn't, he couldn't.

Fuck.

"You.. didn't hurt me. What's wrong? Who... hurt you? We've got to, um.." Matt got to his feet, nearly fell, but caught himself with his good arm against the wall. "Go. Are you okay?"

Over exaggerating his nod, Seth tried to wave off the concern, tried to catch Matt when he almost fell, but had to grip the bed rail as that almost pulled him to the ground.

"I'm. 'M fine. I should have helped you. I came to help you. I dnnn rememner the walls being red..."

Fuck. Something was really wrong with the kid. (Kid. When Matt finds out he's only two years older than Seth, he'll feel like an idiot).

He forced his body to obey him as he moved to support Seth. "Time to go." If Hydra owned this hospital, they couldn't stay, but where the hell could they go?

Whatever. They'd figure it out on the go. Matt wrapped his broken arm around Seth and started moving down the hall. "You don't. Dont sound so good."

Seth shook his head, trying to clear it. "Right. We gotta get you out."

He wrapped an arm around Matt in return, trying to help him walk, trying to figure out why this color red made him want to puke. Why red, tho. It was such a stressful color. Reminded him of combat and...

"Matt? It's been hourssss. Where are your frnnns?"

Matt shook his head. He didn't know where they were. He was in agony, but Seth needed help and that meant -- what, another hospital? The kid could die on the way, and Matt would exhaust himself even more than he already was. He'd never be able to fight off... hospitals never had red walls, did they?

Strange. Matt took him back down to the ER. "Help. My friend's sick. Something... is wrong. Help him."

The nurse gave Matt a confused look. She remembered his black clothes, but hadnt he been admitted? So why was he still in them? Still, she focused on the other man.

"Can you tell me what's going on?" She asked, and it sounded like she actually gave a damn.

"My frnnn has a broken arm. Bleeding. Lady upseerrrmsss. In room. Tried to kill him. N me. Caught me with drrttyyy needeemlll." Seth looked at the woman, his stomach rolled.

"Why red walls? Help him."

From there, things happened quickly. Seth was admitted. Matt was admitted. The police were called and security was stepped up.

Hours passed. When Matt woke, he sensed at once that he was safe. He wasn't in a hospital, which surprised him, but he was safe. His body ached all over and moving at all sounded like the worst idea he'd ever had, so he just lay still and listened.

Seth was next to him in the hotel bed, asleep, clean, stable enough.

Oliver and Carol were in the other room, talking grimly about Hydra having followed them here. Oliver sounded tired but better, and Carol sounded just like she had since Matt met her: intimidating, calm, and strong.

They hadn't caught Deadpool.

Oliver's blood pressure was low.

Matt blinked a few times, his useless eyes feeling dry and tired, and then he closed them. Thank God, he thought. Thank God they'd all gotten out alive. Although it hurt to do, he carefully slid his unbroken arm over and slid his hand around the kid's

You saved me, kid, Matt thought. I promise to do whatever it takes to protect you.

He stayed quiet and still after that. He wanted to get up and get something to drink, he wanted to pee, he wanted to go put his hand on Oliver's shoulder and tell him to get rest, but he couldn't quite convince himself to move yet. He'd wait until Seth woke, he told himself; then, Matt wouldn't have to feel guilty for waking the kid up.

Seth didn't remember a lot of what happened after they'd had to sedate him, ironic as that seemed. He'd fought, when they'd taken Matt away. Argued, yelled, threatened to throw punches he really didn't know how to throw. He'd slurred his way through trying to explain that Matt hadn't looked like that when he'd brought him here, but how much of his ravings they could actually understand through his dosage of cobra venom was undetermined.

Next there was sleep, peace, and no more red walls.

Seth woke with a tiny jerk, but his hand rested under Matt's. Knowing what he did of the Daredevil comics, he knew there would be no sense in pretending to sleep. His breathing and heart rate were bound to change.

Looking around the room, he smiled lightly, then pulled his hand free, moving to sit up at the edge of the bed. "You look better. I'm glad. I would hate to have to tell people that I caused Matt Murdock to fall into the hands of Hydra, just because I insisted on a hospital in San Diego." He laughed awkwardly, shrugging. "Ryan would be jealous -- all the adventure I had today. And the fight with the woman. I'll have to ham that story up a bit, I suppose. Just so it's especially difficult for him to believe..."

"I'd be dead if you hadn't insisted. You saved my life twice today. Thank you." Matt put his good hand on his side, feeling the site of what seemed to have been a surgery of some sort. Thick bandages covered the area that had hurt the worst, and he could feel new wound edges in it.

"You.." Matt had to clear his overly dry throat. "You deserve much more than to have almost died yourself. I'm sorry. You... I'm sorry."

There was a soft sound at the door and then Oliver opened it. He looked like an almost normal human being now, in jeans and a t-shirt, barefoot and bruised and bandaged.

"You were injected with cobra venom," Oliver explained, not sure how much the kid remembered. "How are you doing? Do you need anything?"

Though he'd been on the verge of making some kind of sarcastic comment in reply to Matt's gratitude, because Seth truly didn't know how to accept it without putting on a faux show of arrogance, his thoughts were cut off when the Arrow made his appearance as Oliver Queen.

"Yeah, man. My own cape and eye mask. Is that something that like, comes with the first super deed, or am I going to have to learn to sew? I could probably manage it, I can certainly design it, but what fabric have you found that works best with the sweating and the stretching and all that."

He smirked. "Also, can we talk super chicks? Because I can't lie, a girl that could kick my ass for the good of man kind is worth getting to know, at least over breakfast."

Looking back at Matt, Seth's expression sobered a little. "Any more whispers about Warlock?"

"Warlock?" Oliver asked. He came in, shut the door, and sat down on the edge of the bed by Matt, needing to know that he was alright.

Matt took a moment to explain everything Seth had told him. Although his voice shook a little from sheer exhaustion, he spoke with a quiet conviction, as if he truly believed that everything Seth had told him had relevance. Oliver watched Seth as Matt spoke. When Matt was done, Ollie nodded and started petting his hair, but his eyes were still on Seth. He was willing to accept the man was a necessary addition, but he wasn't as trusting or accepting as Matt was, as a general rule.

Still, the fabric thing was an easy enough topic. "Most of my gear is leather," Oliver answered, "some wool."

"I wear... I think the brand is called UnderArmour?" Matt said. "For the shirt. Then just.. regular cargo pants. Cotton." This was the weirdest conversation.

Oliver pulled the blanket down to look at Matt's bandages and make sure they were still in place, then he tucked him back in and looked at Seth again. "Going to take up a life of suffering and scars?"

Fighting crime would be awesome. But Seth was in no way qualified. This was what he did when around figures who intimidated. He talked about himself, without letting the conversation actually delve too deep into him.

"That was the whole point to me making the graphic. Story of a boy, living in Newport, looking to fight the white collar criminals with Cosmo Girl and Little Miss Vixen. So clearly I have a 10 year head start. Started those stories when I was 16... and I've read enough of your stories to know all the tactical information any kid could need."

Growing quiet, Seth again shrugged off concern. "I'm gonna use the bathroom."

"He's twenty-six?" Matt asked in surprise once Seth left the room.

"...how old did you think he was?"

"Maybe... nineteen?"

Oliver smiled and shook his head, then leaned down and kissed Matt softly on the lips, his heart aching with all of the love they'd agreed not to feel anymore -- an agreement both were failing at, more often than not. "Are you okay?"

"I won't be fighting anytime soon, will I?" Matt licked his lips. He could still taste Ollie's kiss, but he could also taste Oliver's blood on the air, even tucked away under bandages as it was. "I should have been protecting him, Ollie. He fought someone for me. He didn't have to... I wish..."

They both knew what he wished, and both knew how futile the words were to say aloud. After a moment of quiet, Oliver carefully helped Matt get up. Mostly supporting him, he helped him out to use the bathroom once Seth was done.

As for Carol, she was on the bed out there, also in jeans and a t-shirt, drinking a glass of water and watching the news with the sound off and captions on. When Seth came out from the bathroom, she nodded to him.

"Thank you for saving Matt."

Seth stepped back into the room just as, it appeared, a moment seemed to dissolve between Oliver and Matt.

"Interesting crossover," he muttered to himself. "The fan fiction writers would lose their minds if they happened upon this."

His ramblings were cut off by Carol's voice. Seth would never say it out loud, but he didn't know much about her story. The original Captain Marvel, sure, but other fandoms had originated Seth had lost track of that particular story line.

"Honestly, it's not in my nature to be modest. Quite the opposite, actually, I'm known to be self-absorbed and fairly insufferable. So believe me when I say I did nothing but deliver him into the hands of Hydra. He more saved himself in trying to save me. I, admittedly, don't have the hair to be a damsel in distress, it's true, but I think we worked well together."

"Matt doesn't have hero hair, so you're a good match," Oliver pointed out, giving a tired grin as he helped Matt lay down on the bed Carol was on. "Okay. So. Breakdown. Carol, have you ever seen those things we were fighting, before the breach opened?"

Carol glared at Oliver and shook her head. She was too tired for this team recap shit, but decided to suck it up and be grateful that Oliver was willing to take the leadership role here. She might be the group dad, but Ollie was definitely mom (much as Matt might have wanted the role).

"Okay. Matt?"

"Have I seen them?" Matt asked.

Oliver flipped him off and sat down on one of the room's few chairs. He looked over at Seth, so the kid would know he was invited to stay, then looked at Matt, who was wearily giving him the bird right back. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah. But no. I haven't. They smelled similar to some of the Chitauri forces that attacked New York, but obviously these were much smaller. Well. Mostly smaller."

"You seemed pretty confident about fighting them."

Matt shook his head. "Holding back was never really my style. Besides. We had to try..."

Silence fell, then Oliver sighed and rubbed at his forehead. A few minutes later, the conversation resumed, Ollie keeping the other two focused on recalling what had worked and what hadn't -- and all of them avoided talking about Deadpool for now. Eventually, he looked back at Seth again. "Hydra isn't *usually* a real life problem here, is it?"

"Hydra? Considering it's just a facet of Nazi Germany, my quick answer would be no, they dissipated after they lost the war. There aren't really beings like any of you in this world. No super charged runners or billionaires who fight crime at night. Nor are there, technically, super villains. Though. To counter myself, if you consider the current president elect of the United States, something can be said for a resurgence of Adolf Hitler and the Nazi elites."

He shrugged, having been looking down at his hands while they had all regrouped, listening, making mental notes for when he woke from this bizarro dream.

"So what are your plans? Technically, in this city, this week, you won't look so out of place while dressed for fighting crime. But the police are also on high alert because people tend to let their imaginations get the better of them. And, as you realized with your friend, you can't trust the costumes people wear."

"Wade is never exactly... subtle," Carol said, trying to at least be somewhat kind with the word choice. "We're going to split up. Ollie will look for him, I'll handle this Warlock guy if I can find him."

"And I'll--"

"Rest," Oliver interrupted Matt. "You were picked up and smashed down against a car by a giant tentacle monster -- thing. Just stay put."

Matt muttered something unflattering but accepted it. He knew he was in over his head here, especially with the injuries.

"Which brings us to you, Seth." Oliver met the kid's eyes again. "You found out the hard way that life is safer when you're not with us. I suggest, strongly suggest, you get away from us and never look back -- but if you want to stay involved, we won't stop you. We just can't promise your safety."

"You think life is easy? Dealing with privileged and over funded people like... well, everyone in Newport," including himself, but who really needed to know that? "Anyway. Life is full of these little decisions, Oliver. Can I call you Oliver? Or do you prefer Arrow? Anyway. I learned in high school when I met Ryan that safety is overrated and sometimes life is worth risking.

"Besides, when I wake up from this awesome dream, and go to jot down ideas for my next issue, how bummed am I going to be if I just said 'you're right, I'll sit this one out.'"

Oliver couldn't stop himself from smiling, although even his smile had a hard edge to it, something dangerous in the eyes.

"Okay. You're sticking with us. You'll either come with me or guard Matt. Carol's hard to keep up with. And if you're going to stick around, call me Ollie."

"Look, I'm adventurous, but I'm not delusional. Well, not about this, anyway. But I don't have any abilities to offer you out there. If it's cool, I'll stick around and help make sure your friend has to move from his healing place as little as necessary."

Seth looked back and offered a crooked smile to Matt, then shrugged. "At least until you find a way to drug me or knock me out to make your escape."

"I'm not going to drug you or escape," Matt answered, a little indignant.

Oliver scratched Matt behind the ear.

Matt growled. "Seth, please tell him I'm not a cat."

"Yeah. You are." Ollie started scratching under Matt's chin, then pet his insane hair for a minute before straightening up. "Okay. I'm going after Wade." He tossed a wallet to Carol, who set it down on the table next to Matt.

"You two... aren't sleeping?" Matt asked, feeling guilty and useless. He started to get up, but when his face went white he swore and relaxed again.

"We did. A little. Earlier." Oliver started for the door, then looked at Seth. "You sure you can handle him? He gets grouchy."

With a short spurt of laughter, Seth waved Ollie's concern away. "Believe me. There's nothing quite as grouchy as the kid from Chino who's denied his bagel and coffee on a morning when his girlfriend is claiming she's boycotting the next fundraiser..."

Seth looked at all three, noticing the vacancy in regards to his reference, and then again waved Ollie toward the door. "What I'm saying is we'll be fine. I've dealt with worse."

Oliver considered this, smirked a little, and nodded. Considering how fussy he and Tommy had been when they were younger, he believed that Seth could handle it.

"Be nice to him, Matt. He's only nineteen."

"Bite me," Matt muttered.

Oliver and Carol left.

"Nine..." Seth's brows furrowed and he looked back at Matt. "I know I've got the ever handsome face of a young man, but I'm closer to 30 than 20..."

Shrugging, Seth moved to turn on the coffee pot. Because this was exactly what he needed while cooped up in a hotel with the daredevil: Caffeine.

"I know you've somehow spun a story where people think I'm a hero, but I want to apologize for handing you over to Hydra."

"I realized that later. About your age I mean. When you said... Ollie was just making fun of me, since I assumed you were a kid. I.. really don't know what you look like, but I.. sometimes underestimate ages.. uh.. by a lot. And.." he pushed himself somewhat more upright, although it wasn't as if he could watch Seth. Matt just hoped that his eyes were behaving; he kept his lids about half closed to be sure.

"You got me to the hospital to begin with. I needed it. Hydra aside, you got me where I needed to be. Surgery, setting and splinting my arm... I might not have made it if you hadn't gotten me there to begin with. I might've just... found some alley to curl up in and hide." And by might, Matt meant probably. "You didn't know they were there. Your intentions were good. That's what really matters."

The coffee smelled sharp and unpleasant, too old and too strong to ever be drinkable, but Matt suspected that to Seth, it probably smelled just fine. Enticing, even. He waited til the kid -- til the not kid was settled, then started talking again.

"So... you think you should call Ryan maybe? Let him know you're okay?"

"Ryan? I called him when I took you to the hospital. I think he figures that was probably somehow code for me hooking up with one of you, and so he doesn't really expect me to come home any time soon."

The coffee did, in fact, smell a little off, a little too old, too stale, to Seth too. But what he drank at home was ground fresh almost daily. It never lasted long enough to go stale. Still, it was something to do with his hands, something to drink.

With a styrofoam cup, he moved back to the bed where Matt was, considering finding somewhere else to sit but decided it didn't matter. "Do you want to sleep? Or I can see if there's some kind of movie on to listen to as background noise? Not that the entire hotel isn't likely background noise for you. I just don't know what to do with absolute silence?"

Matt shook his head. "Do whatever makes you comfortable. I'll probably drift in and out... but.. I'd really like to know more about you, if you don't mind talking for a while...?"

"I feel like this is a trick question. Talking about myself for hours on end is what I do best."

He laughed once, then winced. No more laughing.

"Well... maybe at least tell me how 'going to the hospital' could be code for a hookup?"

There was something oddly comforting about not having to guard his expressions or the looks of concern or disapproval.

"Well, when you're a teen, there are few stories you won't make up in order to get away from your parents for an hour or two. And Ryan? Well, he knows claiming to have to take someone to the hospital isn't out of my wheelhouse. Besides, I didn't tell him the truth about who you all are. He wouldn't believe me anyway. I just gave him a warning to be on the lookout for a Warlock looking guy -- then had to explain to him what that meant -- and told him I'd meet up with him later."

Matt had to bite his lip to keep from laughing again, not wanting the pain, but his smile made it abundantly clear that he was amused.

"You sound like you were trouble as a kid. Maybe still are."

"Actually, I was a loser as a kid. I didn't have friends to get me into trouble until Ryan came along."

His tone was pretty matter of fact, and lacked any real self pity.

"I get by without too much trouble, I think."

"No kid's a loser," Matt objected, quietly and a little sadly. "Friends or not... at least, that's one old man's opinion." Because at twenty-eight, he was clearly much, much older than Seth.

"No, it's alright, being self-absorbed has allotted me plenty of time to become self-aware as well." Seth didn't comment on the age thing, figuring if Murdock was in his early to mid thirties, and if he had, for some reason, thought Seth sounded like a 19-year-old, then there was likely a reasoning behind it.

"He is the only real friend I've ever had. Which, to be fair, we almost ruined more than once by dating, and he's technically my brother? By adoption. I apparently have no separation of church and state..."

This time Matt laughed, then groaned and swore and forced himself to lay flat again. "Fuck. Fucking. Fuck." Moving was intensely painful, but once he was completely flat again he started trying to relax once more.

"Sorry." Stop swearing, Matthew, he told himself.

"For what? I grew up in Orange County with a bunch of water polo playing morons who had no sense of a higher vocabulary." He shrugged. "Besides, there is a scientific study that claims that the use of expletives like 'fuck' is actually helpful when dealing with large amounts of pain."

Matt's eyebrows went up and he opened his mouth, about to say something, but realized that if he did, he'd just start laughing again, which would require more swearing, which would probably make him laugh more, which would probably kill him.

He cleared his throat and made himself focus instead. "Were your parents comfortable with the relationship? It sounds like something that might have been... difficult for many to swallow?"

"My dad was fine with it. My mom... we hid it from her for a while. But there are a limited number of reasons why she might have walked in on us naked in bed together, and on that day, I could think of none of them."

"That.... definitely seems like a difficult one to explain." Matt moved his broken arm around, trying to find a more comfortable position for it, then finally just rested it up alongside his head.

"How are you feeling, by the way? Are you really okay..?"

"I don't remember anything after hitting the woman with the IV rod. Not at all sure how we made it out of that room or what happened next. I just assume you're the hero. Makes for a more believable story anyway."

Seth settled down onto his side, one hand tucked under the pillow. "But I wasn't injured. So you've nothing to worry about."

"You don't consider cobra venom an injury?" Matt asked, speaking a little more quietly now. "And I didn't wake up until you had me in the hall. You wheeled me out in the bed.. I was strapped down.. you were already feeling the venom I think, and you got me free of the restraints and helped me up before you started to go down.. you were in and out of consciousness, we got back down to the ER... you were.. really out of it -- hallucinating red walls.. but you still tried to make them help me first. You fought to keep us from being separated, you didn't even seem afraid of what was happening to you.

"You were pretty brave, Seth. No matter how much you want to downplay it."

A crooked smile slanted across Seth's lips at the last comment. The rest of it? Felt like Matt was talking about someone else. "What nerdy -kid- doesn't want to find a way to save a super hero's life?"

"Well since I'm not a superhero, you'll have to wait til Ollie or Carol gets in trouble," he said, half in earnest and half teasing.

Seth pulled out his phone from his pocket, typing away for a breath of a moment, and then smirking.

"Daredevil is a fictional superhero appearing in American comic books published by Marvel Comics. Daredevil was created by writer-editor Stan Lee and artist Bill Everett, with an unspecified amount of input from Jack Kirby. The character first appeared in Daredevil #1 in April 1964."

He looked over up at Matt, his own brows raised. "The Marvel universe agrees with me, Matt. Deal with it."

"1964 though? I'm only twenty-eight. So I've got a few more years of being a confused, aggressive vigilante before anyone starts making action figures. I hope."

The last two words sounded lighthearted, like all he hoped for was more time before star status, but the truth was that he hoped he had a few more years at all.

"What got you so into comics?"

"Told you. I was a bit of a lo-- loner as a kid. So people like you and Ollie and Barry Allen. You were my friends. Besides, I was pretty sheltered. There is little that is ever dark in Newport. So living vicariously through you all. That's how I spent my nights. That's how I got adventure."

The words made Matt feel strange. He knew that it wasn't real, that the comics really had nothing to do with him, no matter closely aligned the details seemed to be. None of it was real. He wasn't the one who kept a lonely kid company and helped inspire his creativity. *He* didn't inspire people. All he did was frighten them. Still. The notion of ever being able to really help someone's happiness, not just to protect their body, it gave him a sad yearning.

"Maybe I can live up to your Daredevil some day," he murmured.

"Honestly, you've surpassed it. But then, I never expected to receive friendly words from, or to be saved by you. But this fourth wall breaking is more Wade Wilson's style and we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

Seth let his eyes drift close, but he wasn't close to sleeping. "What about you? I'd like to hear things I don't know. Like the whole crossover that I happened upon."

"The... what?" Matt was lost.

"You and Oliver Queen? Or even, you and Carol and Oliver. He's..." Seth let out a sigh, trying to make this simple. "You and Carol are from one of the major comic distributors. One of the major universes. Oliver is from another. Are you telling me there's a world where you all just run around Willy nilly?"

Matt had to process this for a few minutes before he could really understand what he was being asked.

"We... live in the same world, yes. We met when he was arrested in New York. He saved a group of children from a shooting situation, but one of the other gunmen claimed Oliver had been working with them from the beginning. Well. The... only surviving gunman. Oliver killed the rest of them that day. He was struggling to come back... and was assaulted in the prison. I got him released, with a tracker, and... he just needed so badly to have someone understand him and let him set boundaries, let him... be broken. Without treating him like he was. I don't know if that's... what you were looking to hear..?"

It was more than he'd asked for, or so he thought. But Seth didn't mind the over share. It a strange way, it made sense that they... well, maybe they weren't together? Maybe they were. It didn't really matter. All that Seth really wanted to know was that one of them hadn't gone looking for Earth Two or something, and therefore found the other. But together, whatever universe they were from, it was the same one.

"Okay, but locker room talk? Because I've never gotten to do it before. Which of your... kind? I don't know what to call you. Advanced humans, heroes, vigilantes, whatever. Which of you is the biggest tool. Because I always figured it would be Stark."

Matt's expression probably said it all: at Stark's name, his smiles vanished entirely.

"Probably," he agreed. "I've never met him, though. Just met his teammates after he tears them up. I'm sure he... is a hero. It's just hard to admire someone who doesn't respect the people that risk their lives along with him."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to hit a nerve. Did you... want to know anything else? Would you like me to let you sleep?"

"No, it's fine. I'm sorry. I've just... Steve and Carol are good people. And Tony.. l. He's the toxic friend that just.. robs them of happiness every time. We can talk about other things though, if you want. I get... protective. Of them."

"It's good. I mean, it's good to be protective of friends. Sometimes that's all that keeps them alive." Seth rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling, blinking slowly.

"It's not 1992 where you are, is it? Like. Cell phones and watches you can send text messages from aren't foreign concepts to you, are they?"

Matt turned his face towards Seth. "Did someone..." but he stopped the question before it could finish leaving his lips.

"No, it's 2017. Smart phones are great. Clinton won the presidency."

"Oh, fuck you."

"What did I do???"

"Trump is the president here. What are the odds that I can talk you all into taking me back with you?

"Though, my father will want to come, because he's convinced the world is ending."

"He... but... how.... I mean.. yeah. Come with us and you run the risk of getting murdered by aliens with... apparently more frequency than you do here, but... how the hell did Trump win?"

"The Russians, man. They own this planet." Maybe that wasn't an appropriate joke for someone who doesn't actually know how this planet worked, but they'd work it out. "Anyway. What's a little alien danger compared to a man like that."

"True," he said, maybe a little too emphatically. "Or maybe this is Adam's plan -- give your world something other than itself to fear, to teach it tolerance."

"You call him Adam like he's nothing special." Seth laughed, stretching his arms above his head.

"Okay, serious question. Do you have spare time that you like... practice chess or whittle or whatever? Do super heroes have hobbies?"

"Others, maybe.. I uh.. I work about sixty hours a week, a lot of it unpaid.. when we can pay our bills, and if I don't feel like I.. have to go out that night.. I work out. Train... or sleep. I don't really, uh, have much of a life.." a wry smile touched his lips. "So who's the loser here now?

"What about you though? When you're not doing art, what do you enjoy?"

"Um... skateboarding, I guess. Hanging out at the pier. Reading. Playing the play station. That kinda thing. I don't do much by way of physical activity, I guess. Mostly I write and draw."

He shrugged. "I asked you about hobbies. You said work and exercise. But are there things you enjoy? Infinity pools? Autumn? The sound of the city?"

Matt was quiet for a long time. If he was going to answer this, he was going to do it honestly, but he knew most people didn't really want honesty. They wanted easy answers. Still, Seth seemed to know more about Matt's own history than anyone else in his life did, other than maybe Elektra, and he was still here, willing to talk... maybe he wouldn't mind the truth.

"I like... the quiet. It's hard to find quiet places, but when I do... it's nice. I like touching smooth things, like glass or metal or a cat. Things that don't snag at all. I like the smell of rain on a hot summer afternoon. And I have this... fantasy, that one day I'll go to Arizona and hike out into the desert and just.. be there. Away from all the city noises, the roads, and it'll be... quiet. Hot. Clean -- cleaner than the city."

In an instant, realizing how much he really had said, Matt looked embarrassed. "I mean I like getting a drink with Foggy and Karen too, of course." Lame. Lame recovery, Murdock.

"Would it be weird if I asked to take you back to my place? It's late now, sure. But I think... I'm not hitting on you. I just want to show you something."

It would be just under a two hour drive back to Newport. And he couldn't offer the rain. But hopefully there would be something he could give.

The thought that Seth would have hit on him at all hadn't occurred to Matt, who assumed he was taken, and the assurance surprised him. Still, he nodded.

"Sure.. can you leave a note though? In case one of them comes back? My uh, handwriting is... pretty atrocious."

He wanted to ask what was there, and part of him just really wanted to stay here, but Seth had gone through so much for them already. The least he could do was humor this one request.

There was a notebook and pen in the nightstand, and Seth left a note. He then made a quick run to the restroom and then moved to the side of the bed to offer Matt his arm.

With quiet instructions about obstacles, Seth led Matt out of the hotel and back to the car that... who the hell had driven it here? One hit of the button told him it was, in fact, his car. "Would you like the backseat again? So you don't have to sit up the whole way?"

"No, if it's okay," Matt said, although there was pain in his voice, "I'd like to sit with you." He appreciated that Seth just understood how his senses worked, and that when Matt was like this -- hurting, worn thin -- his body all but shut down, taking him back to a more 'normal' human state. He needed the guidance. Hell, he needed his cane, and hated not having it.

In the car, Seth kept the music low, and flipped to a classical station. It was either that or some Spanish station. His Death Cab CD had finally bit the dust.

"Are you comfortable? The ride is going to take a while." He looked over at the man in the passenger seat.

"I'm Catholic," Matt said, smiling. "A little suffering is good for the soul."

"So a catholic and a Jew are in a car down a deserted highway." Seth smirked. "Man, that's not even the beginning of a good joke."

Before they were able to make it out of town, however, Seth reached over to touch Matt's arm. "Are you hungry?"

"....well I wasn't before, but now that you had to go and mention it, yes. Dick." He raised his hand and brushed his fingers against Seth's wrist for just a moment, worried that calling him a dick was too much.

But Seth laughed, pulling his hand free a beat after he felt the finger tips on his wrist. "And here I thought I was being nice." He pulled down a side road on the northern outskirts of San Diego, weighing their options.

"Preferences? You're not a vegetarian, are you?"

"No." Matt shook his head. "I'm not. I'm a vegan. Nothing but plants that willingly sacrifice themselves and are farmed without pain."

"Oh, now who's being a dick. Sucks for you that this In and Out clearly sacrifices their first born cows to you like the Jews to god. And that's your only option." He chuckled and pulled up to the drive thru. "What would you like?"

"Something spicy and chickeny if they have it.. and water. If they have it. This is still California, I know it's scarce here.."

Ordering accordingly was fairly easy, including the water, which came in the same, rectangular Fiji bottle that his house was always stocked with.

Then it was time to hit the 405 and head north toward home. The car turned quiet while they ate, and after that, Seth didn't much feel his typical need to fill the silence.

The drive felt easier than he'd expected it to, and as they pulled into his driveway, he could see the sun just beginning to rise at the horizon.

Matt had eaten very slowly, more to continue distracting himself from the pain than to satisfy the hunger. When they had both finished and things went quiet, he closed his eyes and focused on keeping his breathing even, controlled. He let his mind go quiet next, and eventually even managed to drift off, not to wake until the car stopped.

When it did, he lifted his head. "Are we there...?" Matt sounded half awake at best.

"We are," Seth replied, climbing out of the car and going around to help Matt out. He guided him up the steps, through the front door and then to the left through the kitchen and out the back doors. His gaze lingered on the pool house where Ryan once stayed, back when they lived here with his parents. But that was years ago now. His parents lived in Berkeley. And they'd left this place to Seth, should he want it.

It was too much house. But it was also home.

"How opposed are you to getting these clothes wet?"

Matt had to stop and lean against a wall. He was puzzled by the question, and he reached down again to check his surgery dressing. Water resistant, he thought, running his fingers over it before putting his shirt back down.

"Alright." He felt a little lightheaded and sick, but he'd had far worse. Matt straightened up, ignoring the shaking limbs. "What is it?"

"I'm sorry. We're almost there." This time, Seth took Matt by the hands. It was hot and damn near suffocating, even this early in the morning. Southern California was unforgiving, though, but that was why damn near every house had a pool.

There were floating chairs he would offer in a bit, but for now he led Matt into the water, and then gently nudged for him to relax back.

"You won't get lucky enough for rainfall, I think. But if you float, and you let the water... it's the heat of the desert, and the silence that being submersed in water can offer. It's clean. And there is no threat to your safety. Just relax back. I've got you."

He'd tensed at first upon being walked to the edge of the pool, but he hadn't pulled his hands away. Having come this far, it seemed ridiculous to back out now. He nodded and followed his host in, moving very quietly into the water, reluctant to make splashes.

"I thought it.. was going to be something for you," Matt said, still upright. He never spent much time in water, and while he could swim, it always felt foreign. The public pools in New York always smelled like sewage to him, combined with overpowering chlorine. The latter was here, but not so strongly, not with the open air and the heat of the sun.

Eventually, he accepted the urging and lay back in the water. He was tense at first, struggling to convince himself to just relax and *be* here, but once he did, he was grateful.

The heat of the sun warmed his black-clad body through and through. The water amplified every sound in it, from the little ripples to the beating of Seth's heart. It pulsated and, because of the feeling of the sunlight, Matt instantly associated it with gold. He remembered gold... or at least he thought he did.

Matt swallowed hard against the angry despair that always came from those tiny little doubts, and he made himself relax again. Focus on floating, on his friend's heartbeat, on the ever-shifting surface of the water, the temperatures within...

It was nice. Very, very nice. He didn't quite know how to completely relax here, instinct constantly trying to tell him that he would fall, but what he could manage was good enough.

"Thank you..."

"It's not rain. And I know there is a comfort in familiar places -- which this certainly is not, but I hope you'll relax here for a while. And... I'm shutting up now."

Seth reached for one of the floating chairs and propped himself up in it, his own soaked clothes and all, and then just kept an eye on Matt, making sure his expression wasn't one of complete anguish at having to oblige the too nice 'kid' by doing something he hated.

After some time, he finally spoke again. "I also thought... well, a hotel in the center of a city in the middle of Comic Con? Getting out of there might help you clear your head. I'll take you back whenever you want, though."

"You don't have to... do all of this you know. I mean I appreciate it, I do, I just.."

Matt went and climbed out when he felt some of the water finally trickle under the bandage. He pulled his shirt off, wrung it out, then lay it flat on the concrete next to himself. Every movement seemed to take far more energy than it should have, so he just sat still, arms wrapped around his legs, quietly folding in against the pain.

"I just don't want you going to any trouble for me..." but he knew that was always the kind of thing that led to uncomfortable protestations, so he was quick to ask: "what.. what does it look like? Everything here?"

Seth hadn't meant for it to be trouble. Or for it to seem like trouble. All this was for him was coming home. But, he was tired, and had no interest in trying to tell Matt that this should feel like home to him to. Because things didn't work that way. So he let the protestation go without comment.

"Keep in mind that..." what, that he was given the house? That would make him seem worse than if he'd worked for it. "This was my parents house. It's... over 6,000 square feet. Vaulted ceilings. That kind of thing. But the back yard. That's the best part. The pool is an infinity pool. So the far edge drops off straight into the horizon. The rising sun is orange and red. Pinks and purples fade further out toward the water."

He closed his eyes, starting to feel the fatigue of the past couple days. Not just with the super crew. But just being at Comic Con. He was exhausted. "Would you like to sleep? There are plenty of rooms to sleep by yourself. Or, since this place is foreign to you, I can stay nearby. I know I told you I'd take you back. But I have to sleep before we drive again."

Matt sighed with relief at hearing that Seth needed to sleep first; it was a reassurance that Seth wasn't giving too much up. He had never really learned how to emotionally accept kindness, however much he might need it, and it made it much, much easier when it served someone else's needs.

"Sleep would be great. If you don't mind just.. letting me close enough to hear your heartbeat? If that... isn't too invasive or. You know. Weird."

"Not weird. It makes sense." Seth felt like he'd known Matt his whole life. Which he knew was an unfair advantage for him. He felt comfortable with this man and his abilities.

"But, I don't know how close that is. In the room? We can just use the pool house. It's the fewest stairs. Which I think you need."

"In the room, unless the walls are thin... usually, just being in the same house is enough but I'm not.. not up to normal.. standards. Sorry. And -- thank you. For this. For the -- moment of peace."

"Yeah, man. I hope it was enough." Seth climbed from the pool and reached to offer Matt his hand. He helped him up, and then supported his weight the whole way to the pool house.

Inside, there was a bathroom in the back left corner. A set of wicker drawers on shelves. A small sort of kitchenette that wasn't stocked, and then a California king (of course) sized mattress on a boxed frame on the floor.

"Take the bed. I'm going to get out of these clothes. And then I'll crash on the floor."

"You don't have to sleep on the floor," Matt said, the guilt returning. "The bed's..." he put his fingertips on it and took a few steps. "Definitely big enough. And if you're worried that I'll... make a move on you, I won't." Matt found somewhere to hang his wet things up and did so, moving carefully. The last thing he wanted to do right now was trip and fall in the unfamiliar place, reopen his injuries, and be more of a burden on Seth.

Clothes drip-drying, Matt carefully put the splint back on his broken arm, chest tightening a little at the deep, throbbing pain. Once the splint was firmly velcroed back in place, he cautiously climbed into the bed. It felt amazing, too amazing, and he sighed quietly, happily, and took a moment to just enjoy it. He really shouldn't have gone swimming, not in the state he was in, but it was all so different, so nice, so distracting. The pool, the company that knew him so well and yet still bothered to be kind, the comfortable bed. He didn't feel like he deserved any of this, but Matt admitted to himself that he was too selfish to want to give any of this comfort up.

Seth only nodded, went to the bathroom to hang his clothes over the shower rod, and then returned with a towel wrapped around his waist. This was why he'd been offering to sleep on the floor. Not because of any notion he had that Matt would end up wanting him, but because he'd be in nothing but a towel. But if he stayed on his side of the bed, Matt didn't have to even know, he supposed.

He smiled as he saw Matt already comfortable in the bed, and he climbed into the other side. He scooted just a little closer, now basically laying in the middle of the bed. so he was sure Matt would hear his heartbeat.

The blinds were drawn on the doors, so at least some light was kept at bay, but Seth longed for the darkness nonetheless. "Anything else before we pass out?"

"Hope you aren't offended by me being naked," Matt said, lifting his face from the pillow he'd had it half pressed into. "Otherwise... this bed is amazing... and I'm never leaving." He rubbed his cheek on the pillow.

His eyes were already closed, and he'd wiggled out of the towel, tossing back onto the floor. "Naked is fine," he replied, rolling onto his side, and falling asleep within moments.

It took Matt longer to sleep. Once he found Seth's heartbeat, he settled into it and relaxed again, as best he could in a strange place, then finally slipped away

The longer he slept, the louder Seth's heart seemed to get. When Matt woke in the late afternoon, it was a drum, accompanied by the whooshing of air into his lungs and the rushing of blood moving through his veins. Matt lay still for a long time, just enjoying it, but finally had to get up.

He felt stronger than before. Not recovered completely, which would take weeks, just not like he was in danger of falling from just one step. Still, he moved carefully and quietly.

After using the bathroom, Matt got dressed, then went back outside. He found the edge of the pool and walked it, barefoot, until he came to where it dropped away. Then, Matt walked out on the submerged part of the wall. He stopped in the middle and just listened.

Sounds bounced off the smooth surface of the water behind him. Behind him, there was the massive house. A friend. The sun beat down on the stone, creating an oven. It was nice.

But in front of him? A sense of great space. Emptiness -- but not just the same as when he was on a rooftop. The ocean was out there. The ocean. Vastness itself. Daunting. Intimidating. Beautiful to look at, so many people said, but Matt didn't know. He'd never seen the Pacific. He never would. He would associate it with a friend's heart and with a hot morning of silence. He would think of the Pacific as a place where sadness and gratitude blended together. For him, the ocean would look like this moment, at least until he made a new memory of it -- but his companion's heartbeat would always be part of it.

Eventually, hurting too much and starting to shake, Matt carefully made his way back into the pool-house.

When Matt had gotten up, Seth had started to stir, but the quiet closing of the door as Matt left the pool house that he finally managed to open his eyes. He didn’t immediately stir from bed, figuring if Matt needed help, he would have said so. Or, if he at least needed a guide around the place. But when he took a while to come back, Seth finally grumbled, sat up — his curls in complete disarray — and went to the door. He watched as Matt stood at the edge and remembered doing that a time or to as a young kid. He never stood on the wall, but in the edge of the pool, looking out at forever.

“Did you sleep well?” Seth asked when Matt returned, pulling his phone out to see if he had any missed called from Ryan, Carol or Ollie. “Are you hungry? We have bagels.”

"No, thanks," Matt answered, his voice sounding worn again as he came and carefully stretched out on the bed once more. He was sweating lightly and just hoped that Seth would think it was from the sun, not from pain.

"And I slept okay. This is... it's a lot nicer than the hotel. Thank you. It's... tranquil here." Yeah, Murdock, get all poetic why don't you? Matt rested the broken arm on his chest. "What uh, what about you? Did you sleep okay?"

“Yeah, well enough.” Seth settled back onto the bed, suddenly wondering why he hadn’t thought to put clothes on while he had been up, checking on Matt through the door. Oh well. Again, it wasn’t as if Matt would _see_ him naked. What did it currently matter?

“I haven’t slept in the pool house in some time. Years, actually. It was never my room, but even though I still live here… it’s strange for this place to be inhabited again. Even if it’s for a night.”

"Is it weird to be in here? Are you okay?" Matt turned his face towards Seth. "And if you need to go eat, don't feel like you.. have to stay here, or wait with me or anything... I mean I'd honestly really like to hear more about you, but just... take care of yourself first.." saying it felt lame and awkward, and Matt already wished he hadn't. He was goddamn terrified of ending up as someone's charity case -- something he hoped wasn't in the comics. All too often, people made too many concessions for him because he was blind, gave up too much to make his life easier, and while he appreciated it, he just didn't know how to take it without guilt, without fear that he'd truly become a burden, the sort they'd never cut free because they'd be too ashamed to abandon him.

“Nah, I’m good. I’ll have coffee and bagel after bit. I’m jewish, I don’t go without the bagel and schmear.” He chuckled and looked down at his hands. Seth knew well enough that he wasn’t the most interesting person. He’d spent his life reading comics and sailing and… Well, all the things nobody else wanted to participate in. Which was why, in much of high school, before Ryan got there, he had been president and sole member of many of the schools extra-curricular activities. He tried to shrug the uncertainty off. But he’d never -truly- learned how to bite his tongue.

“I know… you would likely rather be helping the other two. And this place is kinda lame. Nothing exciting here. But I’m glad you let me bring you back here. No wonder you think I’m a kid. I can’t stop talking to you like a hero — like I’m star struck. But I am. Because I know what you do. I know who you are. And that’s… Well, you’re giving me the time of day, and that’s pretty great, if you ask me.”

Matt didn't understand how Seth could be so grateful for attention that he'd praise anything at all, but the thought hurt him. Seth was kind, and anyone kind deserved attention. He shook his head once, then flexed his hand carefully, moving his arm a little inside the splint.

"It feels... this is weird. Knowing that you know more about me than anyone, but you're still -- here. You even know about Ele... about her. Even Foggy doesn't know that. You.. I wish I could be the hero you know. Teach you some combat or... be able to walk next to you, rather than needing to lean on you.. but, and this is.. just pure selfishness... I'm also kind of glad. To know you, I mean. To have been hurt so that we ended up.. here. A stone's throw from the ocean. A world away from the city.

"It.." Matt was quiet for a moment, but found his resolve and went on. "It seems like you got overlooked a lot. Too much. But the people who chose not to see you, or choose not to... they're the losers. They... I know you're not a kid, now. That... wasn't because I thought you were immature. It's because I'm... jaded. And subconsciously equate the relative innocence of others with youth. If it.. if you're hurt, at all hurt, that I.. thought that... I never meant for it to hurt you."

"No. I'm not offended. Or hurt. I talk a lot, and often about very few relevant things other than myself." He smirked, but of course the expression went unnoticed.

"And yeah, I know about her. Knew a girl kinda like that once. Well, in her own way, I suppose. She's Little Miss Vixen now, in my comics. And, as if it's not enough that I appreciate the kind of man you are, and as if I'm not self absorbed enough, I'm going to relate with you and say I, too, had my run with my Elektra. But after she moved to Rhode Island to attend Brown, she never seemed to miss the sun enough to come back."

Seth couldn't blame her. She'd found herself in college. She'd grown. And he was genuinely happy for her.

"My past is not something to be sympathetic toward. Sure, I was lonely, and a bit of an outcast. But my parents loved me. And I eventually found the best friend who became my literal brother," and lover, for a stint of time, "but I managed."

It took effort to take a breath between thoughts, so it didn't feel like such a non-sequitur.

"You know, you can trust Foggy with your truth."

"About Elektra?" Matt shook his head. "He only just found out about.. everything else. I'll tell him... eventually I'll tell him, I'm just -- scared. Honestly. He was so angry and hurt last time, I'm scared of telling him... that while he and I were first becoming friends, someone almost stole my soul. I almost let her have it. He could.. probably use more time before i hurt him again... and... i'm just making excuses."

Thinking about her always left Matt feeling sick, made his skin crawl, and it showed. "I'm sorry you had an Elektra in your life. Love is nice while it lasts, but when it's... with someone who wants to destroy you, remake you in their image.. it's hard to get over... a lot of.. darker feelings."

After a long moment of silence, Matt asked, "So what's the deal with your parents now? Are they... not in the picture anymore?"

"They're in Berkeley. It was a home they lived in together before my mom started working for my grandpa's housing development business. But when he passed, and Ryan and I graduated, they didn't really feel the need to stay here."

Seth shrugged and relaxed back on the bed, his eyes closing, pulse slowing as he relaxed. He wouldn't sleep again, but he could find a nice meditative state, even while talking.

"I go see them at least once a month. They're good people, my parents. I always believed they were better than this town deserved."

"They must be good, to have raised such a good man. Or, two good men, I guess... tell me more about Ryan? The things you love most about him, what you think he loves about you, that kind of thing?"

As Seth relaxed, Matt felt himself relaxing in turn, his body setting itself into sync with the other.

"Ryan? He's from Chino. Which, is the rough neighborhood. He was one of my dad's clients when we first met. He had been arrested for stealing a car with his brother. And my dad was his public defender. But for some reason? Dad decided to bring him home. He couldn't be released without a guardian, and his mom was a flake and nowhere to be found.

"Anyway, he ran into Marissa, when she lived next door, and she invited him to some fashion show. That started their whirlwind romance. On again, off again teen drama. We all got so swept up in it. But she was a good person, a good soul. She just... her mother was a bit intolerable. And her dad was an investment broker, I think? I don't remember. It was a long time ago and it was before we were really friends, anyway, her dad stole millions of dollars from his clients, which happened to be the parents of her friends, and all hell broke lose.

"Back to Ryan. Right. On our first night, we went to the fashion show that -he- was invited to, not me, and then went to an after party, again, he was invited, and then we got into a fight with the water polo team. Mom walked into me passed out in the pool house hung over and with a black eye. And that was the start of our friendship."

Matt laughed softly at the picture Seth painted and he shook his head. "I'm glad you have each other. It sounds like something made to last."

Seth smiled. "He taught me how to stand up for myself. I... think I taught him how to let people in. He's my best friend. And always will be."

"I can see how you would have taught him that," Matt said sincerely, then fell quiet. He wasn't sure what else to ask anymore, and it was so easy to just enjoy Seth's heart.

Seth, too, was surprisingly quiet for a beat. "What about you. I mean, I know about Foggy. I know how you became friends. And I know about Karen, even. But think of the graphic novels as an episode of television. There are always holes. Behind the scenes, things. So tell me more about him?"

"He's... the kindest person I know. He tries to pretend not to be.. he acts tough, sometimes, but his heart is.. it's pure. Good. Foggy.. makes people feel loved and appreciated just by talking to them. It's like he can touch your hear without even trying. When he's happy, he makes the people around him happy, too. He's sweet. He's so...damn sweet.."

"He sounds better than he's written. Which, I suppose is the case with most humans. A written biography hardly ever does a person justice. Or it only highlights the good parts."

Rolling onto his side, Seth tucked a hand under his pillow and looked sleepily at Matt. "What do you hope the graphic novels got wrong about you?"

"I guess I hope.. that I'm less afraid in them. Braver, maybe."

"Being afraid dies not make you less brave. The opposite is true, in my opinion. It takes pushing through fear to qualify as an action being brace. Otherwise... there is no fear of my toothbrush, or my toothpaste. So the act of brushing my teeth does not require bravery." Seth shrugged, still watching Matt. "So you can only have one or the other. More bravery, or less fear.”

Matt was quiet, thinking of all the times Stick had told him to stop being afraid, all the times Elektra had mocked his fear of becoming evil. Fear wasn't okay, not for people like them, but some part of him still clung to the words Seth said, although he still felt like the kid -- no, like the other man was giving him too much credit.

"It's not... getting hurt that I'm afraid of.. my body's just -- a means to an end. It's... the fear of waking up one morning having gone deaf.. or the fear that.. I'm a burden to the people in my personal life... that... they'd really be better off without me, but I'm too -- cowardly to go. That's... what I hope the comics don't write about. I hope they let kids have a hero... not.. a jaded coward." There was too much bitterness behind his words and he knew he'd gone too far, offered too much truth. Nobody ever wanted that. So, with a small grimace, Matt quickly added, "Sorry."

"I have a question, Matt, and you don't have to answer, if it's too much, or however you want to think of it. But... are the civilians of Hell's Kitchen a burden?" He already thought he knew how Matt would answer it, but he wanted to give him the opportunity to respond however he wanted. Free of judgement.

Matt frowned. "No, of course not, they're just people."

"Why do you deserve less compassion?"

Matt understood, but he didn't know what to say. He was quiet for a long, long time, thinking about this -- about how Seth's sentiments echoed what was taught in the church, about how Matt would have said the same for anyone else. He thought about how irrational fears were and how necessary strength was -- strength like this, like Seth had.

Eventually, he curled up on his left side since it was relatively uninjured, facing Seth, and touched his forehead to the other's chest. That seemed to be all he wanted, for Matt simply went still and quiet after that -- seeking peace, seeking something quiet outside of him, some calmer than the storm always within. He wondered if Seth knew just how valuable his wisdom was -- and if he understood how profoundly fucked up most vigilantes were.

Seth hadn’t really expected the contact, but he didn’t shy away from it either. The silence, however, was something he -had- expected. Once Ryan’s residence within the Cohen home had become more of a permanent thing, Ryan had had to learn what it was like to live with loving parents who -wanted- to spoil their children. And he’d had to learn what it felt like to have people care that he succeeded, and wanted to give him every means to do so. Essentially, Seth had had to teach Ryan how to allow himself to be spoiled.

But with Matt… allowing yourself to believe that people who were offering kindness were not burdening themselves, was not the same thing as being spoiled. It was giving other people credit to be just a generous and warm hearted as Matt was himself. Seth knew that no matter the situation, Matt would give anything to Foggy or Karen, Ollie or Carol — anything in his power for the ones he cared for. So why was it so difficult to believe they would return the sentiment? Practicality, it seemed, was a difficult thing to come by.

Gently, his hand lifted so that he could run fingers through Matt’s hair, and he closed his eyes against the lowering California sun. If Matt allowed nobody else to show him a little compassion, Seth wanted to make sure he wasn’t left wandering what it truly felt like.

Matt fell asleep again as Seth stroked his hair. The compassion was overwhelming, especially as exhausted as he was, and all his body knew to do with it was sleep.

When he woke, the sun was long-since set and the night was cooler. Matt rolled onto his back with a soft sigh of pain, but he reveled in how relaxed he felt. Seth was a miracle worker, it seemed.

For a few minutes, he just laid still and thought about everything that had happened. He worried about the others, he tried to make himself accept that Seth wasn't angry about having to care for a stranger. His mind wandered. He could smell Seth's breakfast, which brought a small smile to his face.

Matt had just gotten up to go and find the not-kid when things changed. He wasn't sure exactly what it was but in an instant, he felt threatened. Matt moved swiftly to a wall and went still -- he didn't even know if there were lights on in here. He didn't hear any buzzing from overhead, but that didn't mean light wasn't streaming in from the windows...

What the hell was happening?

When he heard another heartbeat and a soft step, Matt quickly tied his blindfold on. He was dressed from earlier, but still barefoot. No matter. He pulled his sticks from their sheath on his thigh and focused intently on what was happening.

Seth. Kitchen. Another building. Safe so far.

A stealthy step, a steady heartbeat, the faint scent of rot, of oil, steel, gunpowder.

Deadpool.

Fuck.

Matt's lip curled but he held his position a moment longer, listening. Deadpool was creeping towards the main house, probably drawn by lights...

This was going to hurt, but fuck it.

Matt stepped out of the pool-house and into the open, sticks in both hands. He prayed Seth would have no idea what was happening out here, and that if he did? He'd have the sense to hide.

"What do you want?" He asked, his voice taking on its harder edge.

"Oh, you know. A really cute bikini body. A massage from Natey-poo -- and by massage I mean with his dick.

That kid's head on a pike.." the playfulness was there in Wade's voice, but something in it sounded empty. Different than the man they'd fought earlier.

Matt's skin crawled. "Leave."

"Can't."

"Something's wrong with you. What has he done to you, Wade?" Matt moved as he spoke, picking a place that, if Wade fired, hopefully no bullets would ricochet and hurt Seth. /Please hide, Seth. God, please keep him safe./ Matt's mouth felt dry.

"He who? He haw? Did you just make a donkey pun? No. You made me make a donkey pun! Ooooh, Daredevil, you little minx!" He reached for his pistols, but something in him pushed the thought away. Guns would kill the devil, and he didn't want him dead. Not really. /Then why do I feel like I've been brainwashed into a murder machine by Thanos and Adam? Huh. Weird/. Without another word, Wade drew both katanas and somersaulted over to the Devil. "Nothing personal! Just gotta kill you!"

After that, even if Seth hadn't heard them talking, there'd be no way he missed the sounds of the fight.

Seth had left the doors open to the main house, hoping it would be enough that he would at least be able to hear when Matt stirred once more. But he had grown hungry, and something about sleeping all day had given him a craving for a decent breakfast meal.

He had been in the middle of pulling bacon off the skillet when he heard voices.

Wait. Voices?

With a piece of bacon hanging out of his mouth, he moved toward the door, stopping short when he saw Deadpool. How in the -fuck?-

The most recent film adaptation had emphasized the heart behind the man. But Seth knew the level of crazy Wade Wilson possessed. And, it seemed, he was squaring up against Matt. Fuck.

Fuck fuck.

He moved back inside, ducking down and trying to essentially crawl toward the stairs leading up to his room. When he'd made it halfway up them, he pulled his phone out, did a quick internet search, and then dialed the number for the hotel, asking for Carol and Oliver's room, if they were even still there. They couldn't get here quickly, he figured. But maybe Matt could hold them off.

The phone in their room rang and rang and rang, but no one answered.

Outside, Matt knew he was going to lose, but it didn't matter. If Wade had instructions to kill whoever helped them, whoever was a threat to this master plan, so be it. He'd buy Seth as much time to escape as he could. Seth had a car and a brain, he'd be okay. He had to be. Protecting him was the only way Matt could ever repay him -- even though, he thought cynically, it was his fault Seth was in danger.

Accepting his death was liberating. Matt let go of his own pain and fear and embraced the fight. Wade might be virtually indestructible, but he'd never come up against Daredevil before. Not alone. Last time, he'd had an alien force to help fight the three, and now? Matt was determined to make him see that he'd bitten off more than he could chew.

As for Wade? He was used to being the baddest guy in a fight. He wasn't used to the silent rage that filled this sexy little nutbag. If he didn't have a job to do, he might just get on his knees and offer to suck him off -- but he had a job to do. Roight. Crikeyfuck.

Wade didn't see the next blow coming. He should have, since he could /see/, but it came too quickly. The hard little goddamn sticks smashed into his hands, breaking both.

"Mother fuckstick!!!" His swords dropped with a clatter and he yowled, then knocked Matt into the pool and dragged him down, down, down to the bottom.

I'll be fine. But you. Cocksucker. Fuck. You.

Soon enough, everything went quiet.

Long minutes later, longer than it should have been, Matt drifted to the surface. He made it to the ladder, made it out of the pool, then collapsed to his knees, unable to take another step yet, listening for Seth.

Please be gone... please be gone...

When the phone had proved useless, and Seth had left a singular message with the receptionist -- Wade -- he thought about what to do next. Wade Wilson was, save for a nuclear blast (and even that might not kill him) indestructible. But he was also not a bad guy. Not a bad person. He had his enemies, but when had they become a part of the Marvel heroes instead of Francis and his fuckwads?

It didn't matter. As dumb as he knew this reasoning was, he couldn't leave Matt alone. Besides, where would he go. He had listened to them fight, watched as they'd gone underwater, and his stomach twisted when Matt didn't soon resurface. Seth sat in his kitchen floor, the door still open, the stove and waffle maker still hot.

How did he tell Carol and Ollie that he'd gotten their friend killed by taking Matt so far away from any hope of help?

It took a few minutes for the pounding in Matt's head to calm. When it did, when he heard Seth's heartbeat back in the kitchen, he whispered a very quiet swear. This little shit. Little fucking brave shit.

There really was no time to be angry, though. Wade would wake again soon enough, and this whole thing would start over.

"Seth.." Fuck. His voice was too hoarse. He cleared his throat and tried again, managing to be a little louder this time. "Seth.. do you have rope? Or.. a lot of... tape?" Matt somehow managed to push himself to his feet, although he wasn't convinced he'd stay there long.

Crawling toward the double doors on his hands and knees, he peeked around the corner and let out a breath of relief when he saw Matt standing there.

"I mean, yeah. The rope I usually use on my boat is in a drawer in the pool house. There are also a set of handcuffs in here somewhere. Though I imagine those won't do much."

"Let's... use both," Matt said, hesitating when he thought to wonder just why Seth had handcuffs. "Can you... get them? And a sheet. And... bricks or rocks or free weights... I'll..." pass out. No. No, I won't pass out. "Be here... for when he gets out.."

The first thing Seth grabbed was a chair from the patio. They'd probably need it anyway, right? In the meantime, he was certain Matt needed it now. Then he ran around his house, stumbling over and ottoman all but falling to his face when he ran back out to the pool house. But finally he had everything. Rocks, large, from the edge of the driveway. The handcuffs, the rope, and a sheet AND a tarp.

"Tell me what to do?"

Matt would have collapsed on the ground if Seth hadn't brought the chair out. It seemed like such a strange thing to do, but Matt was grateful.

"Lay the sheet out flat? Then.. We just.. wait for him to come back up.. then... I'll try to subdue him. Cuffs first, we'll put him in the sheet, put the rocks in, tie and tape him, and.. hope it's enough. That it gets us... enough time. I'm -- I'm sorry. I know this is.. going to feel like murder. If it's too much, you don't need to -- you've done enough, you know?"

"Whoa. I can't out maneuver him, and I can't fight him off. But I've read tons of Deadpool graphic novels. I know he's impossible to kill. And this... I mean I'm not sure I'll be much more than something new and pretty for him to look at, but I'm willing to help you find a way to hold him off until we figure out a way to fix him."

"If we can keep him in the pool long enough... hopefully Carol will get here... it'll... we'll figure something out. He's better than this... thank you for.. recognizing that." He curled over his arm then, just quietly waiting -- and then it happened.

Deadpool floated to the surface, took a few breaths, and looked around.

"Deadpool.." Matt stood up, then gestured him over. "Come here."

Still dazed, Wade obeyed. He grabbed the hand that was offered and let Matt pull him out of the water -- and then things went more smoothly than expected. In another minute, Wade was unconscious and stripped of all his weapons and tools. They got him bound, then rolled him into the deep end.

Matt sank to his knees and let his head hang low. "You okay?" He asked, voice rough and hollow.

Seth watched with a hand gently placed over his mouth. It wasn’t horror, really, so much as an intense… excitement at being able to watch all this life. When Wade was at the bottom of his pool, Seth looked again at Matt and nodded. Gathering his thoughts, he moved to go stand next to Daredevil, sitting at the edge of the pool, his feet (and pajama pants) resting just beyond the surface, and he placed a gentle hand on Matt’s shoulder. “Tell me how I can help you. You were getting better. And then this happened. But if all we can do is wait for the others… there has to be something I can do.”

Matt shook his head, then turned and rested his forehead against Seth's shoulder for a few minutes, trying to lose himself in his heartbeat.

Finally, he straightened up. "I should probably shower... and wash the blood off everywhere he reopened... if you that's okay?"

Seth stood at the suggestion, the bent to offer more than just his hands, but his arms and what little strength he actually had, into helping Matt up. “Come on. You can use the shower in my room. Then, if you need to, you can crash on the bed. I have some of Ryan’s clothes in the guest room that… Or I can wash the ones your wearing, if you think there’s that much time.”

Matt shook his head. He didn't know how much time they had, having never fought Wade like this before. "If he wouldn't mind, I'd love to borrow something for now..." He had to lean on Seth again as they went inside and to his room, but this time, Matt managed to be a little less ashamed of it and to relax more, which made the process much easier for both of them.

"Thank you. You.. really kept your head there.. thank you for everything."

Standing in his own doorway, as if hesitant to cross the threshold, Seth nodded in a way that would hint his own nervousness about the situation. He’d thought about nothing but for what the comics had prepared him. He’d given up on the whole ‘this can’t be real’ schtick a while back. And now he was just rolling with it. Finally, deciding there were too many levers in that damn shower for one man to be able to maneuver them on his own first try, particularly if he couldn’t see anything, Seth finally moved into his room, and then to the bathroom, and started the shower with hot water that was just shy of biting. “Take all the time you need,” he offered, though they both knew time was a luxury that even Seth couldn’t afford at the moment. “I’ll go get his clothes. And I’ll throw yours in the wash if you’ll leave them somewhere for me. There’s no sense in not doing that.”

Matt listened intently to what Seth did in the shower, then nodded. Before the other could slip out past him, though, he put his hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"It'll be okay. We're not going to let him hurt you. Why don't you just... stay here, or -- near, sorry, I didn't mean to sound inappropriate. While I shower. And we'll do the laundry and clothes together after, so you're never -- vulnerable."

“You’re not being inappropriate,” Seth replied too quickly, talking over Matt as he finished his sentence. He cleared his throat and shifted. Ultimately, however, he nodded. He didn’t know what else to do until Matt moved for the shower. But he knew he wouldn’t be able to just sit on the edge of the bed and pick up a book. He would end pacing the floor between the desk in front of the window and the door. This room, unlike the room he’d grown up in, was large enough that maybe he could count this as like… a mock workout. Or at least something to distract himself while Matt showered.

Seth seemed to tense up more than before and Matt couldn't help but feel guilty. This had to be terrifying for him.

Matt showered as quickly as he could. Afterwards, he came out without any bandages on -- even the water resistant one had been a lost cause after the fight with Deadpool -- and a towel around his waist. If his body had looked at all battered before, it was far worse now. There were significantly more bruises now, much deeper and darker, all of them looking swollen and awful against the muscle.

With the shower off, everything seemed almost too quiet now, save for their hearts and the hum of electronics. It almost felt wrong to break the silence, but Matt had to.

"You okay?"

Seth stopped mid stride when Matt appeared, and his eyes shamelessly wandered over bruises and other injuries. “I have…” He cleared his throat again, wishing it would stop giving out on him as if he were a teenager all over again. “I have bandages. They may not be as… durable as the last ones. But Ryan was known for getting in fights… Anyway. He’s grown up a lot, obviously, over the last ten years, but I learned to be prepared with him living in the house. Bandages. Ice. Handcuffs. Whatever.” He shrugged and he could feel some sort of secondary pain just from looking at what Matt was walking around with.

Suddenly remembering himself, and not wanting to burn a whole through Matt by staring, he picked up the clothes he’d gathered of Ryan’s and carried them over to Matt. “I hope these work.”

"Thanks.. and just something to, to cover this would be.. probably all I really need." He gestured to the incision on his side. Although the surgeon had sutured it well, the sutures themselves were inclined to snag on everything, he was learning.

"I'll just uh..." he cleared his throat, took the clothes, and slipped back into the bathroom. He hoped that Seth wouldn't mind him using his deodorant, and as he got dressed, it occurred to him that as strange as it was to smell like someone else, it wasn't awful.

When he came out, he was moving very quietly and carefully, wary of upsetting Seth again. His host already seemed so tense, and Matt didn't want to show gratitude by making him miserable.

"What colors are these?" He asked softly, even though it didn't really matter. It shouldn't matter. Matt ran a hand a little self-consciously over his chest, smoothing the shirt.

While Matt changed, Seth had slipped into the guest bathroom to grab a first aid kit and came out with dressing for the wound. “Would you like for me to.” Seth moved to the bed, patting the comforter, not even thinking about how Matt couldn’t -see- him make the gesture to join him. But all the same, he figured he would hear it. “Ironically? The shirt has the flash symbol on it. It was the only hero I could really get Ryan into. And considering the clothes I have here of his, your options are that shirt,” which was the softest kind of jersey knit t-shirt, “a wife beater, or a button down dress shirt. But if you’ll come and sit, I’ll bandage you up.”

He’d managed to get his own mind to quiet enough, now that Matt was fully dressed, that he figured he could tend to the man’s wounds without it being a big deal. The catch, that Seth was still yet to remember, was precisely how well Matt could hear. In the comics, it was difficult to forget the man’s talents. But in real life, it was too easy to mistake him for a normal man and figure yourself to be safe of any exposure.

When he lifted the shirt, Seth grit his teeth and rolled his eyes at himself. The man was injured, maybe he could be a little more adult about helping him. And for a brief moment, the mental criticism worked. But while he placed the strip of gauze over the stitches, holding them still while he tore tape with his teeth, Seth had to concentrate to keep from letting his fingers lightly brush over the other man’s skin. When he was finished, he closed his eyes and couldn’t help but let his touch linger for a beat too long before pulling away and standing up. “Right. Okay. So… What now? He’s still… drowning. It seems. How do we get ahold of your friends?”

If not for the lingering touch at the end, Matt wouldn't have thought anything of this. Seth had every reason to be scared, and he'd assumed that was the reason for the accelerated heartbeat until now.

Matt hesitated a moment, licked his lips, then put his shirt back properly in place. "They'll find us... or call you. You left that... note, right? Unless he... even if he destroyed it, Carol will find us. She's got, kind of a sixth sense... I guess it's like the Force? You. You probably know more about it than I do."

The really stupid thing about human attraction was how it could just not be an issue at all until someone else was into it. Now that Matt suspected Seth found him appealing in some way, although God only knew why, he realized he felt the same. With him, the attraction was due entirely to the personality, though. Seth was good. Brave. Kind. Affectionate. Matt was probably being an idiot for even thinking about this at all, especially when he wasn't sure if he himself was even really attracted to men, and.... and he should stop thinking it.

"I guess we... just need to find a way to pass the time.." Matt's jaw dropped at what he just said, he felt himself blush, and he said, "I didn't mean -- if that sounded dirty, I wasn't trying to imply that -- I mean not that you aren't -- your hand is nice -- but I wasn't -- um. We. Just. Need to... kill the time."

Jesus, Murdock.

Matt facepalmed with his good hand.

Seth watched, confused, as Matt talked circles around himself. The comment about his hand had Seth lifting it up to look at it. “My… hand?” In all their time together, Seth hadn’t witnessed Matt this unsure about anything he said, and Seth couldn’t help but wonder if he’d done something to make Matt uncomfortable.

Of course you did, idiot, remember what he can hear and how he senses other people?

Shit.

“No, yeah. I… I understand. Passing the time. There are plenty of ways to do that.” None of which, Seth could think of at this moment.

"Right. Yeah. Of course. Plenty of ways that aren't... um... that aren't... okay there's.. really no way of asking this without sounding even.. even more awkward at this point, but.. is it okay if I get in your bed..? I mean to rest. I'm aching and... it... would probably be a relief, but if it's -- wow, I'm sorry, everything I say just sounds like a bad romance scene doesn't it? I'll. Uh. Stop. Stop talking."

Romance scene?

Had Seth missed signs? Or had he... fuck, he didn't even know. "Yeah. No, yeah, please feel free to lie down. I can turn on some music if it'll help..." Help what, Seth? set the mood??

"I mean if it'll help you relax any."

Should he slip into something more comfortable while he's at it?

"Fuck." Fuck. He hadn't meant to whisper that.

"Where do you want me?"

Sweet Moses.

"I mean. Would you prefer if I left you alone to rest?"

"No! I mean. Stay. You should stay. If you want to. Uh. If you -- if it's not uncomfortable to be in bed with... with me in your bed. If that's -- are you okay? I'm not trying to -- I don't want to do anything you're not okay with."

Like what, use the wrong pillow? Matt had been able to converse with people once upon a time, he remembered.

He lay back carefully.

Seth hesitated, looking around, moving in choppy, robotic angles, constantly awkward, unsure what to do.

He was over thinking this, Seth decided, and finally went to crawl into his own bed. It was as large as the last one had been, but this one was actively slept in, it smelled of him -- his shampoo and soaps. This was no different, he told himself.

"This is fine," he said, crawling under the covers, tho why he did that he wasn't sure. He wasn't cold. And it wasn't like Matt had asked to be able to sleep. Just to rest. Because he was injured.

Seth slunk down and covered his head with a pillow. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, just... tired. Sore. And look, I'm sorry for -- getting so weird just now. I... think I might be... I guess bisexual, and... that's... I'm really attracted to kindness. And I'm sorry for... if I made... things weird. You've been great, the last thing you need is for some.. weird vigilante to fail at hitting on you. I mean because it's inappropriate for me to do that at all... right?"

Seth's head popped up from under the pillow and he looked at Matt with a narrowed gaze.

"But I thought you were getting weird because I was making you uncomfortable -- with the way I touched you or... god, I know technically you couldn't see me staring. But that doesn't mean I wasn't a complete creep and did it anyway."

Seth took a deep breath and rolled to his side. "I think you and I will hit painfully awkward way before we ever hit inappropriate." What kind of response is that, Seth?

"I mean. You're not weird."

Not better.

"I mean I don't think it would be weird. Or inappropriate."

"Oh," Matt said, and fell quiet for several long minutes. Finally, blushing again, his voice sounding a little darker as well now, he said: "It was nice. When you didn't take your hand away right away. I wasn't... you didn't... that wasn't weird. Nice. Not bad."

"Oh," Seth mimicked. He smiled, though, and again buried his face in the pillow, though just for a couple breaths. Just long enough to control the tone in his voice.

"Do you... I mean, if the touches felt nice?" This was ridiculous. Matt had laid with his head against Seth's chest earlier while Seth ran fingers through his hair. "I mean, they lingered because I liked... touch...ing...you."

"You... yes," Matt answered. "Yes. If you want..." but something made him tense again and although it hurt, he sat up. After a moment, Matt relaxed again.

"Carol just landed by the pool."

Though he had been slowly stretching his arm across the expanse of his bed in search of Matt, Seth pulled his arm back and tucked it in against his chest.

"I suppose she needs help? Or you want to talk to her?"

"Or you two could just stay in bed," Carol said, walking in. "Jesus, Matt, what happened to you?"

"Wade." Matt closed his eyes, not comfortable with letting her see them. "He's in the pool."

"He's... is that what that is? I got the gem back from Adam and Oliver's on his way here with him. Warlock's going to open a portal, send us home. Get up. Get ready."

Matt hadn't expected the news to feel like this, to feel so sudden, so wrong. He sat up slowly. "Oh.. I... oh."

"I'll go get Wade." Carol walked out.

Seth had sat up when she'd entered, and he smiled a thin, forced smile when she'd delivered the news that everything was going back to normal.

He felt the sharp contrast from when she'd suggested they just stay in bed, to when she was telling Matt to get moving.

He nodded once, but for once could think of nothing to say. Tomorrow he'd go back to Comic Con, work the rest of the weekend, and pretend like... what? That these past two days had never happened?

"Right. Well, I don't really know how to say thank you enough, for being my friend these couple days. And that I'm... I'm glad I met you. I'm glad to have known you. I..." he looked away as his chest tightened. "Be safe."

"We didn't have enough time," Matt said quietly.

"No," replied Seth. But it wasn't as if they could conjure more. He couldn't just, go with them. He wasn't a hero. Not really. Even in his own comics he was a poor excuse for a hero. And Matt couldn't stay here.

"Can I... would it be weird, or too much, to ask for a hug? I mean, if you're not a hugger, it's fine. Honestly. I just feel like a half-hearted wave and a reminder that it's okay to let people show you compassion just... isn't enough."

Matt couldn't say anything. He got up and went around to Seth's side, and once Seth was standing as well, he wrapped both arms around him and pressed his face against Seth's shoulder.

What could he say? His throat felt too tight to speak now and his chest had decided to ache. Seth was too good, he had given Matt too much kindness and faith, and he didn't want to leave now. Not yet. So he held tight and tried to pretend this wasn't the most final sort of goodbye there could be.

Seth hated how familiar this felt. Summer leaving off for college. He and Ryan deciding that they were better off as “brothers” instead of lovers. But even them, he’d see again. He had seen again. But Matt? Seth would only read about him and his adventures. Hopefully he’d watch as Matt decided to trust Foggy. As he conquered the threats to Hell’s Kitchen. He would get to see him again. But he wouldn’t… Nothing like this would ever be an option. Nothing real. And he had known that going into it.

He couldn’t even offer for Matt to take Seth’s graphic novels with him. So they could at least share that kind of closeness.

Instead he tightened his grip, but tried not to be too tight, knowing how much Matt was hurting. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Matt nodded once, but stayed where he was. This was stupid. He shouldn't have gotten so attached to Seth so quickly. This wasn't the time or the place to form a friendship -- but then Adam and Oliver had arrived as well, and Matt knew it was time. He knew, but he didn't want to believe it. He didn't want to ask what all he and Seth had missed. He didn't want to know any of it, he just didn't want to go.

When he finally stepped back, he opened his mouth to say something, but no words would come. After an awkward silence, Matt stepped close again and kissed Seth on the lips, gentle and sad at once.

Dark brows cinched together as he felt Matt's lips on his. A first kiss should never have to be a last kiss -- learning someone new only to have to watch them walk away for good seemed like a fate too cruel to be real.

But this was real, Seth had decided. All of it. Every crazy bit of it. And he wanted more. More adventure. More friendship. More of this.

One hand slid gently to Matt's side, while the other cupped his face, and he deepened the kiss just enough to tell Matt that he'd be missed.

And that was the only way Seth knew how to say goodbye.

For once, Matt wasn't embarrassed to cry. The tears had escaped while they kissed, and when he stepped back, they glistened on his cheeks and darkened his lashes.

He shook his head, wishing it wasn't like this, and then he turned and walked out.

The Daredevil comics changed after that. Matt seemed to be both softer and sadder; he slowly started to let people in, but never close enough. There was an unexplained scar on his side that drove fans crazy -- and several years later, when he died, Foggy went to clean his apartment out and found a mysterious letter unfinished on his computer.

Dear Seth --

I think about you often. You changed my life. You changed me. I know you've always been with me. You care. Even when I'm broken in some dark alley, I know you care. Your memory makes it easier to fight and to live.

"We didn't have enough time. I wish I could have heard your voice again. But I have to go do this one last thing and I don't expect to survive it. I'll be stronger though because of you.

Foggy's calling.

And that was it. Some fans were intrigued by the panel. Some hated it. None understood.

Seth had spent years following the Daredevil comics after whole event happened, but he’d never told anybody the details of his time with Matt and the rest of the super crew.

When he read the final panel, read the letter meant for him, he nearly cancelled his appointment to be on the Marvel discussion panel at Comic Con. He was just a guest speaker anyway. More of a host than actually a presenter. Nobody would ask him questions. Nobody would see him -- even if his comics had started to grow in popularity.

This was Marvel. This was the big time.

And so bailing on it seemed like something he couldn’t follow through with. He introduced all the artists, the writers, and of course Stan Lee. He listened as they discussed the decision to finally kill Matt Murdock. And suddenly, a young man, one who reminded Seth of himself at that age, approached the microphone with a note in his hand.

“We have time for one more question,” Seth announced, nodding to the boy.

“Um. This one is actually for you, Mr. Cohen. As a creator of your own comics, are you ever affected, or are you characters ever affected by the deaths of heroes from other universes?”

Seth smiled, though his brows pinched together. His eyes brimmed with tears and he had to look down at his podium for a moment. “Uh...” He hesitated. “I... felt the death of Matt Murdock. I think the loss of someone so vital, someone so good and important -- there’s not a way for it to not be felt in all universes. Maybe it’s fourth wall breaking -- Deadpool would be proud -- but as much as any one of the Marvel characters, the DC characters, or even my characters, I will mourn the death of the Daredevil. Matt was my long time friend. I felt like I knew him. And I have struggled to write anything new for my characters, because we are all grieving. But you can bet, in the next issue, there will be a nod to Matt Murdock’s life.”

#violentnobility #thread #one shot #blind date #i added a little something onto the end for you

1 note · View note