Bending Toward Justice: A Daredevil fanfic set in the Spider-Gwenverse

[Dragonbat]

Stitching leather is more complicated than he'd thought, but it's the best option he can come up with on short notice. He took a sewing workshop ages ago, thinking that it would be cheaper to repair his clothes himself than buy new ones or take them to a tailor. He's competent enough to sew a straight hem or replace a button. He even learned to make his own pants, although for the time and effort it requires, he prefers to buy off the rack. Working with leather requires special equipment beyond the sewing machine he's rented for the month: special needles, alligator clips to hold the pieces together—since pins leave holes—baby powder to keep them from sliding... there've been a few moments when he's thought about scrapping the idea and using fabric, or even just street clothes and a mask. No. Leather will afford him the best protection for now, until he can figure out where to find a bullet-proof suit. And even though he can't be sure of the final effect, he wants to dress in a way that others will remember.

He takes out the cellophane package he bought at the dollar store that contains two plastic devil horns. He hopes that they won't look ridiculous, when he glues them into his face mask. Years ago, the kids in his neighborhood had mockingly called him 'Daredevil'. At the time, he'd hated it. Lately, though, it's occurred to him that the name Daredevil has a lot less shame attached to it than the name Murdock does, these days. Maybe it's time to embrace it. So be it, then. On Saturday night, he will be Daredevil.

[Dragonbat]

The plan nearly works like a charm. There are two points when Matt thinks that he'll need to step in after all. Gwen isn't on stage when the curtain comes up, although Matt can hear her calling from somewhere in the building that she's on her way. He perceives Aleksei's bulk creeping up on Stacy and he ducks down a hallway and into a supply closet he'd scouted out earlier to shed his street clothes. (He's worn the costume underneath, perhaps not the best idea in a large crowd at a venue with an overtaxed cooling system, but he's not sure he could have done it differently.)

By the time he emerges, less than three minutes later, Spider-Woman is on the scene, protecting her father, spouting quips, and seemingly having the situation well in hand.

Then Aleksei grabs hold of her and she struggles to break free. Matt observes her, attending not only to the intensity of her struggles, but to the smell of adrenaline and the thumping of her heart. He realizes that he's not eager to interfere. Not because he's afraid. Because he's rooting for her to win. And she does.

That's when Matt hears a snatch of conversation in a familiar voice and four familiar heartbeats, on the street outside.

"Right. We're up. Better pour that sugar in his gas tank. Pig won't get far in that."

Laughter.

"Man-oh-man, I love this job."

"Wonder what went wrong with Plan A."

"Yeah, well we're not getting paid to wonder; we're getting paid to keep our mouths shut and get the job done so put your ski mask on and keep your eyes peeled for anyone passing by."

There's no doubt in Matt's mind. These are the same thugs who accosted him that night. Kingpin must have had a backup plan in case Aleksei failed. He frowns. Could the men have been working for Kingpin that first time, too? He wouldn't put it past Fisk to stage something like that to remind Matt that without Kingpin's protection, he'd be vulnerable to many more such attacks. He shakes his head. He can't worry about it now.

He pulls apart his cane—or staff, now, he supposes—and launches the grappling hook half. It sails up two stories to hook around the flagpole over the hotel entrance across the street. He retracts the cable and rises into the air. How about that? It actually works!

He lands on Stacy's car (he assumes!), startling the four men. "Evening, boys," he greets them. "Lose your keys?"

[Dragonbat]

It's not much of a fight, but Matt does better against them the second time around. He can see that he's going to need more grappling line if he's going to keep using up his extra spools to secure the crooks long enough for the police to pick them up. Fortunately, that stuff isn't too expensive. He tenses when he realizes that he's being observed. Then he relaxes. He knows who it is.

Smiling, he leaps to the rooftop where she is waiting. And she's angry.

"No," she says harshly. "No, no, no. You can't do this."

"I don't know," Matt replies. "I think I did pretty well for my first night out."

She's not quipping now. "Don't you get it? One boy is already dead because he wanted to do what I do! I have to live with that now for the rest of my life! I can't be responsible for you, too. I can't! I can't!"

Matt takes a deep breath. "I'm not asking you to be," he says quietly. "I've been... running from my own responsibilities for far too long. This?" He gestures down at his costume. "This is me turning things around. Starting to, anyway. And believe me, I have a lot to turn around."

"This is dangerous," she protests.

His lips twitch. While she has a point, she also has no idea of the tightrope he's been walking for the last few years. "You should have my day job," he shoots back. "Or better yet, thank your lucky stars that you don't."

She stands still for a moment, probably trying to come up with a rejoinder. When a moment passes in silence, Matt readies his grappling hook. "I guess I'll see you around."

"Wait." She takes a step toward him. "Why are you doing this?"

Matt turns his head, first toward her, then toward the grappling hook. "Well," he says with a smile, "I don't think I'm going to find a cabbie willing to drive to Hell's Kitchen at this hour of the night." He takes another breath, knowing that he's already said enough, but he has gotten so sick of secrets. And in this case, he already knows hers. It's only fair to return the favor. "I knew you weren't just doing this for cheap thrills."

Daredevil hooks a flagpole and swings off. Spider-Woman doesn't try to follow. But from five blocks away, his smile grows bigger when he hears her shocked exclamation.

"Matt?!"

[Dragonbat]

He's going to have to play this hand very carefully, Matt realizes. He has to assume that Kingpin is having him watched. That means no corporate espionage, no stealing files from the office and mailing them anonymously to the DA's office. Nothing to arouse suspicion, nothing to make the Kingpin think that he's anything other than one of his stooges, body and soul.

But he's still going to keep his ears open, and he has no doubt that they're going to pick up a lot of information. And if Matt Murdock should happen to overhear certain plans and schemes, well, Daredevil will probably step in to keep them from coming to fruition.

He's out of costume and getting ready to turn in for the night when he hears a knock on his window. Surprising, or... he thinks as he opens it and recognizes the heartbeat and bouquet of fragrances... perhaps not. "Spider-Woman?" He opens the window wider and she slides in.

"I guess you really are blind," Gwen says, "or you'd have noticed I took my mask off. I didn't think anyone would notice from two stories up. How did you... do all that? Tonight. I mean, if you can't see?"

Matt sighs. "That's... kind of a long story." He doesn't mind sharing it, though. They say confession is good for the soul. "If you'd like to come downstairs, I can put some coffee on, if you want to hear it."

He hears the smile in her voice when she responds. "I'd love to. Actually," her heartbeat spikes, "I... I need a favor. I don't want you to think I make a habit of knocking on cute guys' windows in the dead of night—not that your being cute has anything to do with... I mean... I..." She groans. "Can I start over?"

It's the first time in a long time that he's had to force himself not to laugh. "Go ahead." He heads for the stairs and she follows.

"Okay. Long story short, tonight, my father found out what I'm doing with my life. He let me go, but I don't know what's going to happen if our paths cross again. I don't think I can go home. At least, not tonight. I'll keep an eye on the police station for the next few days. When I know for a fact he's at his desk, I'll go back and get some clothes and stuff, but for now..." she sighs, "well, 'broke and homeless' pretty much sums up my situation. And since you obviously know who I am, in and out of costume—and how did you know that anyway?" Without waiting for an answer, she continues, "Um... do you think I could crash on your couch tonight?"

"Well," Matt smiles, "I really think you'll be more comfortable in the spare bedroom. Just let me change the sheets; I don't believe I've had occasion to in almost six years." They're at the top of the staircase now.

"Sounds great."

Matt takes a deep breath. "To answer both your questions, when I was fifteen, I got splashed in the eyes by radioactive waste. It... changed me."

"Radioactive?" Gwen echoes. "We really do have to talk."

[Dragonbat]

It's been nearly two hours and they've flown by like minutes. Gwen is smothering a yawn and Matt is debating whether to put on another pot of coffee or go to make up the spare bed, when Gwen asks another question, one that he's been dreading.

"Matt? How did you know to be at the club tonight? Or was it just a coincidence? I mean... no offense, but if loud noises are a big deal for you, you kind of picked a lousy spot to hang out."

Coffee. He's going to put the coffee on. "I..." He pushes away from the table. "I'd rather not answer that."

"Um... okay."

He's not finished. "I'd rather not, but I think I have to. First, because it's something you should know. But second... If I don't tell you, there's a strong chance that someone else will." He takes a deep breath. "Based on my brief encounter with your father, it's pretty obvious he doesn't... care for my employer. He's an astute judge of character. Wilson Fisk is... well, he's ruthless. Manipulative. Not someone to cross lightly."

"Which is why you're planning to bring him down by operating as Daredevil."

"Yes. But it's very possible that he'll put two and two together and figure out either that Daredevil and I are the same person, or alternatively, that I'm passing information along to Daredevil. If that happens, I wouldn't put it past him to tell you this next part, hoping that you'll solve his problem for him."

Gwen leans forward and rests her elbows on the table. "You think I'd help him? Thanks so much."

"I think you might with the right stimulus," Matt says heavily. He holds up a hand to still her retort. "Hear me out. Working for Fisk, I've had to do a lot of things that I've had to rationalize away. Convince myself that it wasn't really that bad when, most of the time, it was. For example, not long ago, he... he ordered me to hire a contract killer. And no, I couldn't rationalize that. I also couldn't walk away, because if I did... first, he'd find someone else to arrange matters, and second, he'd start looking for an excuse to remove me from his organization—and I don't mean he'd fire me. So," he takes another breath, spills the remains of the coffee pot into the sink, and lets the water run to rinse it out, "I decided to arrange for the hit to take place at a venue where there was a very good chance that someone else would be on-hand to stop it. And since I couldn't leave something that serious to chance, but I also couldn't let word get back to Fisk that one of his own people had spoiled the hit, I decided to hang around in costume, in case I was needed." Standing this close to the running water, he can't read her heartbeat, can't be sure that she's connected all the dots yet. Matt hesitates. Then he turns off the water.

"Like I said earlier, tonight was my first outing in costume." His voice is almost a whisper. "So," he takes another breath. "I think that answers your question." He pauses. "I understand if you want to leave now."

She pushes her chair away from the table, gets up, and walks slowly toward him. He turns to face her.

"You know I mentioned that... sixth sense I get about danger?" she says softly.

Matt nods.

"I got it when I met your boss. I got it when Dad pulled a gun on me tonight, though it stopped tingling when I took my mask off and let him see it was me. Believe me when I say I got it in spades from that Russian giant guy. But it didn't react to you, Matt. Not at all." She puts a hand on his shoulder. "I'm still trying to get a handle on how this stuff works. It just seems to let me know when someone or something means trouble. I don't know how great it is at telling good guys from bad guys. But maybe... maybe knowing when to trust someone isn't all about senses. Maybe," and she's definitely smiling now, "maybe it's about instincts, too. And my instincts are telling me you're probably a better person than you think you are right now."

Matt realizes suddenly that he's been holding his breath. He exhales, relief flooding through him. "I thought you should hear it from me, before you heard it from Fisk."

"I understand. And I appreciate it. You'll understand why I can't thank you for siccing that creep on my dad, but I'm glad you were out there tonight." She takes another breath. "Forget the coffee. I'll just finish what I've got. It's... really been a long night. I'm about ready to turn in."

Matt nods. "I'll make up that bed then. And I'm sure I can find you a nightshirt."

"Thanks. And Matt? You know you're not the only one with something in your past to make up for, right?"

He nods again, remembering their earlier conversation. "Peter."

"Peter," she sighs. "Maybe we should sort of... look out for each other, too. In case it gets to be too much. Because I don't know about you, but talking about this tonight really helped—and there aren't that many people I can do that with. Not stuff like this."

Matt smiles. "I'd like that. I'd like that a lot."

He's still smiling as he heads back up the stairs. He's not sure how long Daredevil will be able to operate before someone catches on, but he's still going to do what he can. For as long as he can. He can't say for sure what's on his horizon, but after tonight, his future feels a little bit brighter and a lot less scary.

The Beginning