#ch 6

"Sam, Lena, just stay focused- the both of you can do it!"

"Go for the kill!"

Lena hears senseis Larusso and Lawrence call out from behind them. Looking at Sam beside her, she gives the girl a nod, which Sam then returns with a determined look, before she turns her gaze in front of her- to her smirking opponent.

Lena turns her gaze to her own opponent but sees him staring at Sam in wonder, which she quirks her mouth at, before she then decides to call him out on it.

"Eyes on me, big guy," She says with a teasing tone towards the towering kid, who then immediately snaps his head to her, looking entirely caught off guard, and extremely flustered from having been caught looking at her friend that is.

But he wasn't the only one who had heard her little remark, for she heard Yoon calling her out from within the crowd, which she chuckles at.

"Oi stop with the flirting, it's disgusting, "

Sensei Wolf had caught it as well, but she didn't notice, for she had been ignoring his looks the whole day, but well- he didn't like it in the slightest, which showed, what with him wearing an annoyed and sharp expression.

Seeing her lighthearted expression, while still wearing a flush to his face- Axell falters for a moment, and that was all Lena needed to pounce.

The fight then began with the noise of the crows turning louder at each punch, and evaded movement that took place.

Axell turned to jab a sharp punch at her, but she effortlessly evaded it, her movements fluid, all the while her gaze stayed stuck on her opponent in front of her, who frowned at her, especially when she struck a jab against his side.

She only grinned at him, while she circled around him like a predator, all the while she also made sure to have Sam in her eye-sight, for if she'd need her help. But she was luckily handling herself at the moment, doing as she told her to do. Good. She thought before she turned her mind to the fight at hand.

while the kid was fast, especially for his size- she was faster, and much nimbler, which she of course used to her advantage.

And before he could process the last punch, she continued to crack at his crippling defenses, which he clearly wasn't used to doing, and made the boy's firm movements from before, become much sloppier with the way he tried to get at her.

He was even starting to get out of breath.

She watched him turn frustrated now, which made her smirk at him now, before she struck at him with a kick, which made him take some steps behind him because of the force of it.

She then met Wolf's eyes behind the boy.

His gaze was entirely on hers, unblinking, and calculated.

Axell then sent a roundhouse kick towards her, which she then at the last moment twisted over with a jump, before she held one hand on the ground, balanced on it and quickly turned her body to his already turning form, and kicked at him with all her might.

The crowd then turned thunderous at the spectacle, while she then twisted and flipped to stand on her feet once more, her gaze now on the sprawled boy in front of her who held a hand on the ground to push himself off of it, for he wasn't entirely on the mat just yet- but he froze at her confident approach.

"STAND UP!" Wolf then shouted from behind at the boy, but Axell wasn't reacting to it as the man thought he would.

Something in her gaze and ready fist, and the sound of his sensei shouting at him made him freeze in the moment, which Lena frowned at, for this was no time to freeze at (and also because the look looked too familiar for one), not while he still had the chance to defend himself, but nevertheless, she promised to end this- she raised her fist ready towards him, all the while she held eye-contact with the now wide-eyed tall boy in front of her- who suddenly looked seemed like a small and frightened child in front of her, he wasn't even seeing her...

But before she could even move to deliver the final punch, Axell's breathing quickened, before he then fliched his face to the side.

"Miyagi-Do OUT! The Iron Dragons have won!" The announcer then shouted, which brought Lena to a pauze, and the boy in front of her as well, finally getting out of the strange spell that took over him just now.

Lena's jaw then clenched at the announcement.

It was then silent before the crowd then roared.

She then stood back and held a hand in front of the boy, which he looked upon in confusion, before he hesitantly took it.

Pulling him up,

"Good fight," She told him with a soft smile and a nod, which he looked at in surprise, before he nodded and shyly returned it, making him seem much younger now, especially with his mussed hair falling into his eyes with the movement.

Which struck a cord within her.

"Y-Yes," He quietly replied, which made her widen her smile, before she gave him a final nod and turned to head over to Sam, who stood straight on the mat in front of her, and was listening without an expression to the female captain of the Iron Dragons, which Lena then frowned at.

Especially at the nasty look the other girl was giving her friend, she knew those types of girls and did not like this in the slightest, but before she could say anything, or do anything the girl then spotted her and with one last smirk left to go to her Dojo, which left Sam and her standing solely on the mat then.

Sam looked at the ground for a moment, Lena watched as she tightened her fists by her side, before the younger girl then turned her head up at her approach.

"...Lena, I'm sorry for making us lose," Sam then quietely told her, her voice sounded wet to her ears, and looking into her eyes- they were teary at her quiet perusing of her.

"It's all my fault, I shouldn't have been-" She then continued, all the while she harshly moved an arm upwards, but before she could continue in her self-pity, she was caught off guard by Lena's chuckle, which then turned to a tinkling laugh, which caught the attention of all those around them, which made Sam then turn scarlet in embarrasment.

"You- You're laughing?" The younger girl then spoke, hurt clear in her tone, before her expression then stuttered and she let out the floodgates, which alarmed Lena, who then put a hand over her mouth, before she stood straight, and shook her head at the younger girl- it hadn't been her intention to hurt the other girl.

"Sam, wait no- I'm not laughing at you, I'd never laugh at you, love. Look at me," She softly asked her, while she held onto the now sobbing girl's shoulders, before she then finally pulled her into a hug.

"Oh Sam, I'm sorry." She whispered in the girl's hair, while she carefully caressed the girl's shivering back, all the while she hushed her in a comforting way.

"It happened, which we should just accept, and do better the next time- for this isn't the end you know? We got more challenges ahead of us. We got this far, the two of us, which says enough. So, get those nasty thoughts out of your head, okay?" She then told the girl, before Sam then pulled back from the hug with a firm nod, her face blotched with tears, which Lena softly smiled at before she moved to carefully clean them off her face, which Sam smiled at, at the tenderness she shows her.

Like how an older sister would.

"Now, head held high, okay? And shall we now join the others?"She then asked her friend, who nodded before Lena held onto her with one arm, while they then walked over to their awaiting group of friends and senseis who smiled at the both of them and pulled them into an awaiting group.

"You did good, the both of you- and that kick Lena, don't think I didn't see that!" Sensei Daniel then said with a proud smile before he then pulled his daughter into his arms in comfort, which Lena smiled at, before she felt Miguel pull her into a side hug.

"We almost won, which everyone saw, especially with you kicking the big guy on the mat, this is only the first challenge, we'll win the others." He then firmly told her with determination, his eyes burning at the thought of it, which Lena only nodded to.

All the while she felt eyes on her back, which she ignored in favour of turning her attention to sensei Lawrence.

"Do you want to talk with her?" Tory heard Yoon ask her from behind while she was watching Lena comfort Sam in front of her.

Her chest ached at the sight of them.

Especially at how this day had turned out for her, which she was angered over- at her quick defeat.

But that didn't hurt as much as the sight in front of her did.

"No." She told him, while she turned her gaze away from the two in front of her to go outside, all the while she ignored Robby's longing looks towards her way.

"Where's Tory?" Lena curiously asked when she met up with Yoon, who she gave a hug to.

He shook his head,

"She left." he told her, his gaze full of concern for his teammate, which she of course spotted.

"Is she-" She then started before she was interupted by another voice.

"What did I tell you, you lost because of that failure of a captain, well captains, seeing as it was too easy to beat him." Kwon said with a sneer while he invited himself into their conversation, which Lena looked upon without any expression.

He looked at his teammate, who stood straight beside her, before he turned to smirk at her.

"Although- you did fight well. You could have won as well, that is- if you stopped holding yourself back. Because you clearly did, why is that?" He then curiously asked with a frown, for he didn't understand why she would do such a thing in the slightest.

That, and why she wasn't captain.

"Thanks, I guess. " She replied, without giving an answer to his question, for that wasn't his business.

Which Yoon didn't miss in the slightest, while he looked at her with a frown as well.

"Ah a secret, okay. How interesting." Kwon then remarked, before he tilted his head at her with a wide smirk.

"See you around, Miyagi."

"It's Lena." She then told him in English,while she watched him leave, not before he flashed a two-fingured salute at her.

"You have a strange friend," She then decided, while she returned her gaze at her friend, who didn't deign to answer it.

"I'll head up now, see you around Yoon." She then after a moment decided, which he then mustered a smile at,

"See you, and good luck,"

"You too," She told him before she headed towards the exit, her Dojo having left before her already.

While she walked in the now desolute corrider in thought, she with surprise felt herself be pulled into a room with a yelp, her back immediately hitting the now closed door behind her, where she then finds herself enclosed upon by two hands beside her head.

And looking up at the perpetrator, she's met with the serious gaze of Wolf.

"Caught you."

I am so sorry for ending this on another cliffhanger!

But don't worry y'all will have quite a chapter with these two in the next one 😏

But anyways, what did you think of the chapter- did you see this coming? Or did you expect more? Do tell me!!! <3

And what did you think of my action scene writing (I'm not that good at it obviously, but I try my best) 😅

And sorry if I made any typo's, I haven't edited this (nor any of my other chapters)!

You didn't know the full story behind this momentary change. Everyone had been too busy to discuss. But the few, hurried comments had painted the basic picture. The previous manager's worsening mental acuity had been missed, perhaps intentionally by some higher ups' useless nephew. This 'Roger' might have been bad at accounting but he knew how to exploit a situation to his advantage. The whole thing had come out eventually but not before everything in the accounting department was a big mess.

According to the rumor mill, it had taken some significant sweet talking from the partners to convince one of their top litigators not to walk after he noticed discrepancies in his pay. And that was on top of an important client demanding to know why they had been billed three times for the same thing and the IRS having some questions. Agreements were made. Heads had rolled. And now it was all hands on deck for this department until everything was fixed. The partners didn't care about overtime. They wanted the problem gone, as quickly and as quietly as possible.

Drinking your coffee—that you made yourself since Sunday mornings were obviously a rather busy time for Father Lantom—you discovered that Matt's gambit had paid off. The Union Allied scandal was being screamed by every headline and talking head on local news. Even some of the national news outlets were putting in their two cents in. You weren't surprised. Murder, conspiracy, and possible affairs was the media's bread and butter. Add in that Karen was young and very pretty and you had the perfect recipe for a media frenzy.

The traditional media weren't the only ones talking. Social media was also buzzing. Well played, Mr. Murdock.

You checked on the monitoring software you had deployed into Union Allied systems last night. Hacking in hadn't taken you nearly as long as you thought it would. Or it should have. Most companies at least tried for something more robust than standard firewalls and commercial anti-virus software. Maybe they assumed they didn't need much cyber-security. After all they weren't a bank or some other institute with lots of people's credit card numbers or other private information on file. Who would want to hack them?

You'd be surprised, you thought warily. Sometimes a system got hacked simply because it was there and the hacker was bored. Or they were practicing their skills on something easy before tackling something with more robust security. That's what you had done when you first started.

Granted, robust cyber-security on a construction company might have encouraged you or another hacker to really dig into their system, curious to know what they were hiding. What was so important. In your experience, most corporations had something to hide. Things that they would pay handsomely to keep hidden, things that their competition would pay equally well or more to know.

The buff seemed to have worked. You hadn't discovered evidence of too many other people diving so deep into their systems. The few you had seen looked more like the backdoor that someone in IT had put in themselves so the next the CEO completely locked up his system, they could easily go in and fix whatever he had broken. That's what you would have done.

Another thing you discovered during your initial foray was how Karen's copying had been discovered. The computer she used had key-logging software. You were pretty sure that it had been installed by Union Allied itself, possibly as a security measure. It wasn't difficult to disable but one needed to know it was there in the first place. The only computers in the system that didn't have the key-logging program were the ones registered to the top brass.

Or at least they didn't have it before last night. They did now. Your handiwork might eventually be discovered. You were good. You were very good. But you tried not to get overconfident. There was always someone better. If you ever forgot that…well, a couple rounds with the cyber-security on Stark Industries' mainframe would remind you quickly.

But you were confident that when and if your electronic minions were discovered, it would be too little, too late.

The timer on your phone reminded you that it was time to get ready for your day job. You drained the last of your latte and closed down your computer.

Your new coworkers, upon discovering this was your first time in the city, insisted on treating you to genuine New York City pizza. You enjoyed it. Your opinion that free pizza was always the best pizza remained firm but there was something fun about a slice so thin and long that you could fold it. You had just about finished your slice when a breaking news alert captured your attention.

Clyde Farnum, the cop who had tried to kill Karen, was dead. The death was being reported as a suicide but you had your doubts.

It wasn't impossible. Farnum was facing attempted murder charges. His career was in tatters. People had taken their own lives for far less reason. But it was awfully convenient for Union Allied (and the powers behind them) that he had, taking whatever he might have known about their operations to the grave.

If Farnum had been eliminated, the circumstances only reinforced your notion that whoever this Boss is, he possessed a cruel streak.

In the same situation, the Ferryman would have had Farnum killed. Loose ends were messy, especially ones that could testify against you. Likewise, the orders for his death would include making it look like an accident or if Farnum had died at his own hands. But leaving his body for his daughter to find? That you didn't think Ciro would do.

You were not naive. You knew who Ciro was. What he was. You knew exactly what he was capable of. The Ferryman was ruthless. He could be very cruel. But Ciro had rules. Lines that he did not cross nor allowed his people to cross. One of those lines was that you didn't involve the innocent or the harmless.

Farnum's daughter was both. She wasn't involved. She was no threat to this Boss or anyone else in the organization. There was no point in hurting her. It accomplished nothing.

If this had happened in Los Angeles, you had the feeling that you would not be watching a reporter trying to interview an eighteen-year-old babbling about blood and brains in-between heart-wrenching sobs. In Los Angeles, she'd still be crying but there would have been some effort to prevent her from being the one to discover the body. An accident on the 405. An anonymous phone call to the cops about a gunshot. Something.

Sometimes those efforts weren't enough. Plans failed. Or otherwise went awry. But there would have been an attempt. Losing one's only parent is enough pain, piccolo fantasma. She didn't need to see it. Protecting his business didn't require that trauma. It was unnecessary.

This callous indifference to collateral damage, it said something about this organization. Something ugly. You made a mental note to double and triple check that all your tracks had been covered. Putting Father Lantom or Sister Maggie in the crosshair would be a poor repayment for their kindness toward you.

As you returned to your work, you made a little bet with yourself. That by tomorrow morning, Karen's other would-be killer — the assassin — would be joining Farnum in the morgue.

You were tired by the time you trudged down the big stone stairs into the basement but you still pulled up the copied files and took a look at them.

It was easy to see why Karen thought something was hinky. On the surface, the files looked like one would expect. A tidy list of assets, liabilities, capital, revenue, and expenses in the standard double-entry columns. But there was far too much money. Far too much for a small construction company. Even one that seemed to be doing as well as Union Allied.

The second clue came in the businesses referenced in those transactions. Some were normal — architecture firms, general contracts, suppliers, etc — but others were not. Car washes. Taxi companies. Restaurants. Laundry mats. Strip clubs. All cash heavy businesses that had nothing to do with construction. You wrote down the names for Murdock.

And as you did so, you noticed entries that didn't seem to be businesses but names.

Names like C. Farnum. Payments made for 'market research' and 'janitorial services'. You shook your head. Someone thought they were really clever.

The conclusion was inescapable. These weren't the books for Union Allied but for something else. Another business, one that was a lot bigger and meaner. How big, you couldn't say for sure. There might be more files, ones that Karen hadn't had time to copy. Files that could be squirreled away in a different section of the network, waiting for another innocent secretary to stumble across. If it was on a computer connected to Union Allied, you'd find it.

And if there were paper files…well, that still didn't put them out of your reach. You weren't called The Phantom for nothing.

"No. I'm putting you at enough risk."

You scowled. Murdock was not the boss of you. You decided whether or not to risk your neck.

You shook your head, focusing your mind back on the files. You weren't entirely certain what all this creative accounting is in service of but you had a theory…

Your computer dinged. One of your monitoring programs. There was something happening in Union Allied's systems. That something being someone remoting-in and deleting the secret files. Whoever it wasn't savvy enough to know that deleted didn't mean gone but was savvy enough to bounce their signal. You hadn't reached the home network before the person disconnected from Union Allied.

You swore but there was nothing you could do about it. Except for waiting for them to do it again or see if you could trace it back using previous entries…You started to do just that but soon the burn in your eyes, the blurriness on the screen signaled that plan would have to wait for another day.

You sighed but accepted your fate.

The next morning, you learned that your prediction about the assassin was right on the money. According to the breathless reporter on the morning news, the assassin—identified only as Rance—had been discovered hanging in his cell. The police claimed the man had only been left unsupervised for a short window but that it was, tragically, long enough.

Once again, you didn't buy what they were selling.

As with Farnum, it was not impossible that Rance had killed himself. Between the murder of Karen's coworker and the attempted murder of her, the man was looking at a life sentence. More than one if he could be linked to other murders. And possibly worse if those murders occurred outside of New York.

But it was too neat. How fortunate for Union Allied (and the power behind it) that two people whose testimony could have really harmed them just so happened to—independently of one another—decide to take their own lives first. And neither decided to leave any notes or messages.

Yeah right. You might have been born at night but it wasn't last night.

They were celebrating. It wasn't a fancy celebration. They were eating off paper plates and drinking cheap beer straight out of the bottle at a wobbly card-table. But Matt preferred this over black tie and caviar. It was more real. More true.

And Karen's lasagna tasted better than fish eggs.

Besides, they had real things to celebrate. They were all alive. Karen had joined Nelson & Murdock as their office manager. And had already proven herself invaluable by straightening out the mess that he and Foggy had been making of their invoicing. Most importantly, Karen no longer had any murders charges hanging over her head. And her face had been splashed across the news enough times that people would notice if she were to suddenly vanish.

The only fly in the ointment was when the conversation turned to how Karen had survived the second attempt on her life. More specifically when the Man in Black was discussed.

"The guy's a maniac."

It took every ounce of self-control for Matt not to flinch. Foggy didn't know it was Matt he was talking about. He didn't know. But hearing that disdain, the disgust in Foggy's voice, was something straight out of Matt's worst nightmares.

"That maniac saved my life," Karen pointed out. "And not just mine. He helps people. Protects them."

"And he could do that, legally, as a cop."

"Because cops are always the good guys," Karen said, sarcasm heavy and pointedly sharp. Which was fair, given what happened to her.

Foggy shifted in his chair. Uncomfortable. Normally Matt would jump in to help but he wasn't sure he'd be able to keep the hurt out of his voice right now. Something that Foggy would immediately notice and be concerned about. But his best friend rallied anyway.

"Sometimes the cops are the bad guys," Foggy acknowledged. "But we have a system for a reason. We can't just let random people appoint themselves judge, jury, and executioner."

And that, Matt thought, was the crux of the problem. Because he didn't disagree with Foggy. There should be a system of law. Lawbreaking should be handled by the courts. A person should be judged guilty or innocent by a jury of their peers. He believed that. He wouldn't be a lawyer if he thought it was all pointless. In an ideal world, the system would protect Karen. It would have ensured justice for her and Mr. Fisher.

But we don't live in an ideal world. We live in this one.

And Matt just couldn't keep listening to the screams.

"—you think, buddy?"

Matt blinked , suddenly aware that Karen and Foggy were both looking at him with expectations radiating off their bodies. "About what?"

Please don't be the vigilante.

"The lasagna," Karen said, uncertainty seeping in her voice. "Do you like it?"

"Yes," He said, smiling and hearing her heart sped up in response. "It's delicious. I just got lost in thought for a moment there and didn't hear your question. I'm sorry."

"No, no, it's fine," Karen said, waving off the apology. "Happens to all of us."

"Especially when this big nerd stays up too late," Foggy said. "Don't think I didn't see those jaw-cracking yawns, pal. Is Mary keeping you up all night long?"

"Who's Mary?" Karen asked.

"His girlfriend."

"Not my girlfriend," Matt quickly corrected.

"My apologies. Mary is a girl who is Matt's friend. A friend who makes him egg bake casserole just because."

"Sounds like a girlfriend to me," Karen said, teasing notes outweighing the disappointment. It wasn't long before the disappointment dissolved like sugar as she joined Foggy in teasing him until Matt, as Foggy put it, 'blushed like a schoolgirl.'

A goal they accomplished by the time they parted company twenty minutes later.

You needed to update Matt about what you had uncovered.

To that end, holding his spare keys in your hands, you opened your third eye. Why he had developed enough attachment to these keys was a mystery but it was a useful mystery. It made it very easy for you to pick out his threads from the colorful tapestry of the city without having to first detour to his apartment building.

His threads led you to a rundown building with a weathered sign declaring it to be Fogwell's Gym. There was something vaguely familiar about it but you put that aside for the moment. The gym looked closed but the door knob turned easily in your hand. You slipped inside, closing it softly behind you.

As you stood by the door, waiting for your eyes to adjust to the dim lighting within, you felt your breath catch.

That building from Matt's road, this gym had the same smells. Sweat, leather, muscle balm, dust…Along with one of the sounds, a rhythmic thumping. Not the steady drumbeat that you just realized were probably heartbeats. No, this thumping had a meatier sound, the characteristic thwack of repeated impact. It didn't take long for you to find the source of the sound. Matt was working over the heavy bag.

Continuing your look around, you noted the peeling, faded posters on the walls. The lighting wasn't good enough to read all of them but you didn't need to. You could see the important ones—the ones emblazoned with the name Murdock.

Given how old those posters were, you didn't think the Murdock in question was the blind man working out right now. It also gave you a pretty good idea of what memories the replica of this building in Matt's road held.

Not wanting to dwell on that building and its air of bittersweetness, you turned your attention back toward the man in question.

While Matt was undoubtedly aware of your presence, he continued his workout. You waited and watched. It wasn't a difficult task. You were seldom interested in other people for sex but you could always appreciate aesthetics. And the play of light and shadow over Matt's muscles, the deadly grace and power in every movement was so very pretty. He was like a tiger padding through the trees, beautiful and dangerous at the same time. Tyger Tyger, burning bright, In the forests of the night…

For the first time since you met him, he wasn't wearing a mask or his dark glasses. Seeing those brown eyes, filled with banked fire (burnt the fire of thine eyes), only increased your appreciation of his beauty.

Even if those eyes combined with the last traces of baby fat rounding those cheeks made him look younger than he probably was. It took at least seven years to become a lawyer. He had to be thirty. Right?

Perhaps you were getting too comfortable asking questions because that thought had barely drifted across your mind before you found yourself asking, "How old are you?"

"Twenty-nine."

"Twenty-nine?" You repeated. You didn't know why you felt so surprised. It wasn't a crazy answer like eighteen. "You're twenty-nine?"

Matt paused his workout. "Yes? Is there a problem?"

"No, no," you said. "Just that baby-face of yours makes more sense now. I thought you were at least thirty."

"I'll be turning thirty in October, if it helps."

It did even with his sardonic tone. It was nice to know that you hadn't guessed that badly.

"How old are you?"

"Thirty-one."

One of the few pieces of information about yourself that you knew for certain was your date of birth. Not that it mattered. You could count the number of times you had gotten to celebrate it on one hand and have fingers left over. And your identities had their birthdays picked by a random date generator.

Your birthday was just another day, no different from any other day.

Matt nodded to himself. "You made a thoughtful 'ahhh' after you came in. Any reason why?"

You hadn't even noticed. Careful, you silently scolded yourself. I mustn't get too comfortable. Random questions about his age or dietary habits of one thing. Spilling too much about Him or other parts of your past was an entirely different kettle of fish.

Besides, it would make leaving that much harder. It was already gonna suck worse than usual, losing this sense of comradery, this feeling that you weren't alone.

You pushed away the resentment. It didn't matter. It couldn't matter.

Instead you focused your attention on Matt's question. "You remember how I said inside your threads, that I saw a road?"

"Yes."

"Well the road isn't the only thing inside a person's threads. There are also usually buildings. There's one in yours that is this gym, I think."

"You think?" Matt's head canted to one side.

"There weren't any signs," you explained. "Because that's not how you remember this gym."

Matt blinked. "How do I remember this gym?"

"As far as I know, everything in your threads is shaped by your experiences, your memories, your perspective. The result is that your road and its contents are long on the feel, the sounds and the smells but rather short on the visual elements like signs."

Matt nodded slowly, looking thoughtful. Thoughtful was good. Thoughtfulness was a good sign. "That makes sense. What's in those buildings?"

You took a deep breath to brace yourself. From your limited experience, this was the tricky part of the explanation. The aspect that people found the most disquieting or otherwise upsetting. "Memories."

Matt went still. "Memories?"

"Memories," you confirmed, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. "Ones connected to whatever the thread is linked to. It's the reason I prefer using blue threads for diving into. Being connected to a cherished object usually means those memories and the emotions are more muted."

"What did you see?" Matt asked, licking his lips. "Of my memories."

"Not much," you said. "And not just because it's dark in there."

"What?"

Confusion was better than anger or fear. And much better than accusations of being possessed by demons. Random exorcism is only funny once.

"I didn't go inside," you said. "Usually if I stay out of the buildings, I don't experience much or any of the associated memories."

"Is that what happened this time?"

"Yes," you said. "So all I got were the smells—sweat, leather, iodine, things like that—and some sounds like someone working the heavy bag. I did hear the murmur of a man's voice but it was too low for me to understand what he was saying."

Matt was silent, brow furrowed and lips pressed together. You tried not to fidget or start rambling out nonsense, to give him time to process this information. He deserved that courtesy. Finally he asked, "Why?"

Now it was your turn to be confused. "Why what?"

"Why didn't you go inside the building?" he asked. "Take the chance to snoop?"

"Because it wasn't necessary?" you said slowly. "I didn't need your memories of this place, the knowledge of who that man was or what he was saying to accomplish my goal. Which was finding where you were and if you seemed like you'd be busy for the next hour."

His eyes were fixed on your chest. If he wasn't blind, you would have snapped your fingers and reminded him that he was talking to you, not your breasts. But he was so it couldn't be your curves that had captured his attention…wait, the slight cant of his head in your direction, turning one ear closer….he was listening….to what? Your heart? Was he doing his human lie detector thing?

If so, you hoped that he was normally more subtle about it than this. Or Operation Prevent Anyone From Figuring Out That Matt Murdock And The Man In Black Are The Same Person just got a lot harder.

"And if you had needed that information?"

"Then I would have gone inside," you said, fixing him with a hard stare of your own. Hopefully he could somehow sense it. "Just like if necessary, you will eavesdrop on someone's private conversation."

Matt's lips twitched into a rueful smile. "Fair enough. The memories thing does explain a few things."

"Does it?"

"When you touch my threads," Matt said. "I feel a tug right here." He pointed to his chest, roughly where his heart was. "But I also suddenly remembered certain things, something I wasn't even thinking about."

That was interesting. For obvious reasons, you didn't have many chances to ask someone what having their threads touched or entered felt like. Granted, for most, you were certain the answer to both those questions was nothing. Outside of Twenty, no one had ever given any indication they had noticed her doing anything with their threads.

Was it an enhanced thing? Would any enhanced person be aware? Or was it just a Matt thing because of his enhanced senses? And Twenty thing because she had the same powers you did. It was impossible to know. You didn't know any other enhanced people. Maybe Twenty did but you didn't know where she was. Even if you did, communicating with her beyond necessity was too dangerous.

"What things do you remember?" You asked, unable to contain your curiosity. Seeing that little smile disappear made you want to take it back. "You don't-"

"No, it's fine."

"Lie."

That got you a smile. Just a little one but… "Really it's fine. Even though it hurts, I don't mind remembering my father."

He sighed, his voice falling to something so soft that you could barely hear what he said next. "Wish I remembered more."

You didn't know what to say about that. You didn't know what it was like to mourn a parent. You didn't remember yours. Not really. Those wispy fragments of love and affection you could sometimes dig up might just be your imagination. A desperate delusion to comfort yourself that, once upon a time, someone had loved you. That someone had cared…

"Cease that useless blubbering, subject. Now!"

You shuddered, feeling the phantom touch of the metal prongs pressing against your neck. Had to fight down the nausea as cigarette smoke filled your nose.

It's not real, you reminded yourself. He's not here. He can't hurt me anymore.

"What's wrong?"

You jumped. When had Matt gotten so close? He wasn't crowding you, exactly. Just moved close enough that he didn't have to speak louder than a whisper. And put his body between you and the door, you realized with a start. His head once again canted into his listening closely pose. Listening for what?

"Nothing," you said.

"You're frightened," he said, his voice a low rumble. That banked fire in his eyes kindled into a blaze. "Did you sense something?"

"Nothing," you repeated. "It was just…bad memories."

Memories that were already getting pushed back into the lockbox, where they belonged. The process was made easier by Matt's proximity, allowing his scent to fill your nose. Sweat and plain soap were the strongest elements but there were also fainter notes of paper, leather, and copper along with something warm and spicy that reminded you of cinnamon. Nothing like him.

The comfort held even as Matt eased out of his guarding pose and stepped back. "Why did you come looking for me tonight?"

You have never been more grateful for a change of subject. "Found something in those files you gave me. Thought you'd like an update."

"I would," Matt said.

You described what you had found in the files along with your theory about Union Allied. Namely that it was a front, a way for the criminal organization behind it to launder money.

Matt frowned. "Construction company is an unusual choice for a front."

It was. There was a reason that fronts were typically businesses that favored cash transactions or took in a lot of cash tips. Easy to pad out the revenue, slipping into a little dirty money here and there.

"It would be, if Union Allied was the first step."

"What do you mean?"

"I can't prove it, haven't finished tracking all the money," you started. "But I think the money is laundered first through the traditional sources — a bar for example — before cycling through a second business like Union Allied by having the bar 'hire' the company to do some work, then overpay them for the work or materials or both."

"The files Karen found mention several such potential laundering businesses along with more 'respectable' companies like Union Allied." You pulled out the list you had written. "I wrote them down earlier but…hmm"

"You don't know braille?"

Matt's tone was distinctively teasing.

"Nope," you said and made a mental note to start learning. Never knew when a new skill might come in handy.

"What are they teaching in school these days," Matt asked with a dramatic sigh.

"No idea," you said. "Never been to school."

Schools are for people, after all, not lab rats.

Matt's smile faded, seeming to sense the gloomy shift of your thoughts. But when he spoke, it was all business. "All teasing aside, I think your theory is sound. It puts more barriers between the boss and the criminal activity, making it easier for him to pretend to be a normal businessman. And if he owns more than one such business, well, he's just as shocked as everyone else at what his employees at Union Allied were doing…"

"Exactly," you said. "Shows this boss can be careful and meticulous when he wants to be. Damn. It's so much easier when people are dumb."

Mary is hiding something.

Well, she's hiding a lot of things. But Matt had the sense that you were hiding something specific right now. You hadn't been lying but you weren't being quite truthful either.

"Is there anything else you'd like to tell me?"

A moment of hesitation. "I hacked into their computer system."

You had….Matt scowled. "And why did you do that? I told you not to get further involved!"

If he hoped his angry face would cow you, he was quickly disabused of that notion. Your jaw tightened as you crossed your arms. "So? I'm not your minion, Murdock. I don't have to obey your orders."

You were…not wrong about that. But that didn't mean Matt was about to give up. These people were killers. They had already killed three and that was just the ones he knew about. Who knew many more skeletons were waiting to be unearthed? "Perhaps not but that doesn't mean I'll let you risk your life. This isn't a game."

"I know that. Probably better than you do. I've been on the run half of my life."

The knowledge that you had been running from this monster since you were in your mid-teens did not make the Devil inside him any calmer. Quite the opposite. "Then why did you put yourself in the firing line?!"

"I didn't."

Matt bared his teeth, stalking closer to you. Your heart sped up but you locked your knees, refusing to step back. Or lower your head. "How would you know?"

"This ain't my first rodeo. I know what I'm doing," You said, lifting your chin. You hadn't raised your voice but the tone was sharp, cutting. The very model of mulish stubbornness. He would know. He had made that same raised chin, shoulders squared, feet firmly planted stance more than once. Heard the same angry, defensive tone in his own voice.

He knew what it all meant. It meant that you had made up your mind and nothing could change it. He could help or get the hell out of your way.

Matt felt like ripping out his hair.

Deep breath. Count to ten. Ask the Lord for patience and understanding. He used every technique he had ever been taught to reign in his temper. To resist the urge to lock you in his apartment until you agreed to be sensible. It would only make you more determined to tell him to go fuck himself.

"Next time," he said through gritted teeth. "Please be honest about what you're doing. I can't protect you if I don't know what's going on."

You didn't say anything. Just stared at him. Still tense and wary.

Another deep breath.

"Please," he said, his voice softer, more pleading. "These people tried to kill Karen—twice. They will kill you if given the chance."

"I know." You swallowed hard, scent filling with fear. "I'll try to keep you informed."

Your body language softened, shifting your weight. "I'm not used to working with people. Like this. Usually I'm on my own."

"Not anymore," he said, his voice low but fervent. "You aren't alone anymore, Mary."

You blurted your real name. You didn't know why. You just couldn't stop the words from coming out of your mouth.

Matt repeated your name. You both loved and hated the way it sounded when he said it. The hushed reverence, like he knew just how precious the gift he had just been handed was…

"Is that your real name?"

"I think so."

It was what your parents had called you. Even if they had…it was still your name. Something that was yours. One of the very few things.

But you didn't want to think about that. Or why you had given Matt your name. Time to get back to business. "Do you want to know what I found on their computers?"

"Yes."

While making it clear that you hadn't gotten through everything yet, you shared what you had uncovered. Matt listened carefully, offering his own observations.

Put it all together, there wasn't much. Right now your case amounted to a lot of suspicion but it was rather low on proof. Any defense attorney worth their salt could tear it to shreds. And this organization had the money to hire very good lawyers.

"Not that they'd need them right now," Matt admitted with a grimace. "An L1 could get our case against the 'big boss' dismissed easily."

And assuming you found this iron-clad proof, who could you take it to?

"Brett Mahoney. He's clean."

"How do you know?"

"I just do."

You sighed but mentally tabled the argument. You'd check out this Mahoney later. "One clean cop won't be enough."

"I know."

Matt didn't look or sound daunted by the enormous task before you. He looked determined, his eyes filled with fire.

Tyger Tyger, burning bright…

"We can do this," he said with solemn reverence of a vow.

His fire, his confidence…it was contagious. You felt something that you had only felt once before. When Twenty whispered 'tomorrow' across the intersection. A combination of heart-pounding fear and a hope as sweet as your first taste of maple sugar.