#dcviltongued

@dcviltongued

Nervous was not the word for what John was feeling. His entire reality had been turned upside down and while this wasn’t a new experience for him, it never really seemed to get easier. He was tidying up the flat to pass the time, not that there was much to do. Someone had cleaned up the mess left behind by the Feds, either Karen or the landlord had hired a crew, it wasn’t that important aside from the fact that John was relieved that Matt would be saved the task of literally putting his life back together. John didn’t know what to expect. They’d barely spoken since Matt had resurfaced, not for lack of desire, just that the matter with Fisk had taken precedence. John had understood given he had been helping Daredevil to the same ends, with considerably more brutal results. He had so many questions, though, the biggest, most obvious one being how he’d survived. John hadn’t forgotten the promise made all those months ago that Matt would explain everything, either. In the end — He was really just happy to have him back even if it felt currently smothered by the sense of surrealism that the man he had been so certain gone from this world was anything but. Scrape of keys in the lock made John freeze. The feeling of not knowing what to expect left him uncertain what to do, how to greet him, and slightly paralyzed with it. The stillness in him didn’t last when the door opened, shut, and Matt was in the flat’s narrow foyer. John met him there, barely breathing, pulled him into a hug, and just held him, familiarizing himself with the sensation of having him there, right where he bloody well belonged. Maybe he’d intended to greet him with a kiss and cocky smile in every dream or fantasy he’d had about him coming back, but his voice faltered and all he could do was breathe. “I missed ye, darlin’. “

lightning rattles the glass and though he knows, rationally, the weather is what it is tonight feels as if the building is at war with the world. bruised knuckles ache as he walks. the hallways long and the building empty enough that the wind echoes with a shriek through it. 

the night watch is rarely his duty, but exceptions are often made when hands are short. tonight, his hands will have to do. though steady as they are, even he has to pause when movement catches his eye. the flashlight swings and he frowns. “who’s there?”

“Could ask you the same thing.” Danny replied as he crouched down beside the other man. He was soaked to the bone, his own costume not offering the best water resistance. Nevertheless, there was a touch of worry in the cock of his head and the way his heartbeat picked up. He’d noted the blood already, made it well enough known that he was not an idiot. He could see the damage, knew it had to be worse considering the bit of a puddle.

he really should attend his AA meetings more often.

he'd been overdue for one for weeks. work kept him busy--- there were always meetings to attend, improvements to make, suits to design. no rest for the wicked, as they say.

but for once, he did go to a meeting --- one at a quiet little catholic church in hell's kitchen, off of the main streets of manhattan. he’d come in with a hoodie and sunglasses on, trying to be as inconspicuous and anonymous as someone like him can get. he listens, he talks, has some coffee with the other attendees. it makes him feel better.

the night air is bitingly chill when he steps out onto the back to get back into his car, sunglasses ditched and hoodie down now, and he pauses for a second to rub his hands together --- winter has come and gone but the cold lingers on. (seriously, fuck global warming.) the discreet sedan he's brought beeps when he unlocks it, but movement catches his eye before he can get inside. tony's immediately on alert --- years of being an avenger has instilled a sense of hypervigilance on him. his eyes dart between the alleys leading up to the parking lot while his left hand moves to the watch on his right wrist, ready to unfold it into a gauntlet at any given moment------

------but he puts it away the moment the figure comes into view. he knows this person. or at least, he knows of them.

@dcviltongued

Tony knew that the man who had saved him was Daredevil. First of all, the guy always had his eyes covered. Second of all, his hero of the other month happened to be a blind man that could fend off armed attackers better than he could. Even though he’d been trashed, that was still notable.

So, he’d looked into it, casually hijacking cameras around the city from time to time, noting comings and goings. And yes, he was totally, completely, sure the guy was, in fact, a hero, if one who apparently was determined to not interact with any other ones. 

Given the shit his team got into, he couldn’t really blame him.