Chapter Text
Matt Murdocks foot tapped rhythmically against the floor. Tap, tap, tap.
He bit his lip. Peter was supposed to be here, Peter never missed one of their scheduled ‘hang out’ times— even if Matt never called them that- refused really. Not once had he missed, not once. He grunted, he wasn’t supposed to get worked up over a random kid. Well… the random kid that was Spider-man, that hung out every week in the office, that gets beaten up every other day from crime fighting, or himself, or his damn aunt. The random kid that he helps tend to his wounds, work the kid through his rather frequent panic attacks, his weird self-hatred trips. The random kid that he— begrudgingly had to admit, had grown quite fond over in the last couple of years. Who baked muffins with him and played “Guess that flavor!” Whenever they were bored. Who never made him feel estranged because of his blindness, not that he cared what others think… it was just nice he looked (pun intended) past that. Other than that, he was totally just a random kid…
Just a random kid
Matt sighed and pushed himself to his feet , snatching his cane from the side of his desk— not that he needed it. Pacing. Peter was probably fine, holed up at some bank robbery, at his aunts or one of his crazy Avengers interactions. He bit back a shudder. Avengers fights with him hardly ever ended well, about half the time he’d find the kid at his door, beaten half to death or riddled with knife’s. Nearly gives him a hard attack each time. He’d thought he’d lost him one time after he came back from a fight with Captain America, he could’ve smelled the blood on him from a mile away the way he showed up. He clenched his teeth. He might as well utilize his time. He slumped back into his desk and started on his work, heaven knows there’s always a new case thrown at him.
His foot tapped against the floor.
Tap tap tap
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Peter was alone. Strapped uselessly to a table, Bruce long gone, somewhere he didn’t bother to share with the class. Peter huffed, staring at his restraints, even if he could pry himself loose— which was greatly possible, he really didn’t know where he was. He glanced around the room, a small medical room with a bed tucked in the corner, a table in the middle and medical supplies on the side… why the fuck wasn’t he in the bed at least? The table was so uncomfortable… he rolled his eyes, easily snapping off his restraints and continuing to survey the room. The door was too obvious, right? if only there was…
A vent
He stared at the white painted vent, jumping up and sticking to the ceiling, crawling up and gently taking off the vent cover, tossing it over to the bed so it didn’t clatter to the floor. He crawled upwards through the metallic vent, scrunching his nose to keep from choking on the dust and grime. The thin metal covering squeaked under his sticky grip, shrieking in his ears as he tried to decipher the maze of the vent systems. The Avengers didn’t deserve answers from him, and they’re sure as hell weren’t going to torture them out of him. He was a kid, even though he didn’t give two shits how old he was, they did. No one wanted to hurt a child. Convenient. Well…actually no, he had a growing feeling they’d totally beat the shit out of him anyway, but maybe they wouldn’t kill him as quickly? He sighed, the Avengers were so weird.
He thought of Matt, and probably how sad and lonely he was without him…moping in his blindness…. Peter snorted despite himself at the image, Matt would never, but it was hilarious pretending he would. Man he hoped the guy had baked him at least 1 muffin, just one. Jesus he was so hungry. Perks of having a fast metabolism meant he was always hungry, and seeming as though he might’ve spent over a day here he must be starving— actually…. If he spent over a day— nope he was so wrong, Matt would kill him for being late to their hang out sesh, or “Meetings” as he so often called them, even thought Peter knew he was just lying to himself. He smiled. Although he hoped he wasn’t worried-
He yelped suddenly as the chute of the vent gave out from underneath him, tumbling down and through another exit somewhere. He landed in a bright hallway with blinding white walls, crashing against the ground and the vent cover. He coughed, unfurling to plant his feet into the grown and fling himself up. He assessed his surroundings, it was pretty empty he supposed-
The sharp whine of his spider-sense rang in his ears. He narrowed his eyes, suddenly very alert as- he caught an arrow flung at his chest with wide eyes. He fumbled for his mask, which was- thankfully, in the pocket of his suit and pulled it over his face, squinting through the fabric to see no one other than Hawkeye aiming- yet another arrow at him. He sighed, fight. Great.
He leapt into action, dodging the arrows whizzing by his face and- well shit, one now clipped his shoulder. He grunted, yanking out the arrow and throwing it to the side with a clatter, charging past Hawkeye with a flip, only to slam into- Captain America, great, great.
With a side swipe of Caps arm he was flung into the wall, quickly recovering to swing past the man and sprint down the hall. He needed to find an exit, any sort of exit. If they were in the Avengers tower there was sure to be some windows around, right? Captain America caught his foot, pull him back with a squeaking slide of Spider-Man’s suit agains the wall. He huffed, trying desperately to kick the man off of him, he was about to get free when- another arrow zipped past him and… lodged itself into Peter’s side. He let out a sound of surprise, Captain America using his now unguarded demeanor to yank him back by his foot and slam him into the ground. Peter coughed as the wind was knocked from his lungs, Cap now straddled him, pressing him into the floor as blood began to spill from his arrow wound at an alarm rate, both his shoulder and side. Peter wheezed. Captain punched him in the face, with a yelp from the younger of the two, blood now streamed from his nose.
“Just like old times eh Cap?” He coughed, referring to when Cap had beat him to a pulp in a similar manner, Peter was only barely able to keep his life with that one.
Cap sighed. “I don’t want to hurt a kid, but I swear to god-“
Peter groaned, he was tired of being treated like a child, even if it did keep Captain America from murdering him. He used Caps distraction of talking to kick him square in the chest, only barely able to off set the man to wriggle from his grip and climb to the wall, he jogged from the ceiling to the wall, hit the floor and sprinting down the long white walls. Captain America and Hawkeye running after him. Another arrow hit his bad shoulder- again.
“Jesus man! Chill it with the arrows!” He shouted over his shoulder, yanking it out with a jolt of pain, barely noticing the amount of blood he was losing. He needed to get out of here- fast. He ran down to some sort of common room, bustling with employees and vending machines…a bag of chips sounded good right now… he scanned the area and stared at the walls, lined with windows. Awesome.
“Escape by window!” He exclaimed loudly and crashed through the first on his saw, skidding down the building before webbing the side of another building and swinging off. Barely able to keep his balance with three arrow wounds and punch to the face by Captain America, his nose was no doubtably broken. His vision titled and he collided with a building, barely able to tumble over the top to save himself. His first thought was a muffin, and his second?
Matt Murdock.
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Matt Murdock never thought his day would be like this, but he can’t say he’s surprised.
A normal morning- skipped breakfast, sat on a bench outside the city, let the breeze hit his face…
And then worry about his kid…er the kid for hours straight, pacing his office like some caged animal. Matt Murdock doesn’t pace, Matt Murdock is a Daredevil, Matt Murdock doesn’t worry for a random kid he baked a batch of muffins for. He doesn’t do that…. and yet, there he was, pacing his office “Like a caged animal.” And waiting for something to happen when-
The kid had burst in, all but collapsed to the floor before Matt rushed to catch him. Leaking blood all over his perfectly pristine floors, and sounding absolutely miserable.
“Hey Matt…” Peter mumbled, pushing himself to his feet, only to wobble and brace himself on the wall. He gave a nervous chuckle and wiped his bloody nose. “How we doing?”
“…” Matt did nothing but sigh. “Hey Peter.” He grit his teeth. “Would’ve appreciated a heads up before you went and got yourself beat.”
“Kidnapped, escaped and then beat. Also man, I spent my first few hours as a temporary blind and I now know how you feel!” Peter teased lightly, struggling not to pass out on his gritty lawyer friend.
There was a pause.
“…What?” Matt blinked.
Peter gave a sideways smile and began to recount the days events to Matt. Occasionally having to take a pause to catch his breath, apparently it takes a lot of effort to keep from passing out when you’re bleeding out in your lawyer friend’s office. Who knew! He talked over the freak ass sensory attack room that blinded him, waking up in an Avengers medical wing with Bruce, being strapped to a table, and then escaping said table to flee through the vents, only to be met with a viscous battle by Captain America and Hawkeye- which, he wouldn’t say he won that battle, but he sure as hell didn’t lose….except for the handful of arrow wounds and a bit of a beating from Cap.
Matt eventually asked to tend to Peter’s wounds, permission to touch the boy, to which he quickly complied as the DareDevil helped him. He winced as Matt began to clean his shoulder wound, he was currently shirtless, and was so grateful in these moment Matt was blind, mostly so he couldn’t see his scars. He knew Matt could feel them, and knew of at least a few since he’d stopped at least a dozen self-harm attacks to himself, and tended to many many wounds from crime and elsewhere, (usually his aunt or the Avengers.) over the past few years, he simply hoped they felt less ugly than they looked, not that he had much faith. Matt helped him sit in the office chair across from his desk.
“So.” Matt would sigh, passing a chocolate chip muffin to Peter and taking his own. “You should get some rest huh? Does your aunt know you’re out?”
Peter winced, she would be upset at him for disappearing for another few days, he could feel it. “No. She’s probably upset, though not for the reasons one might hope.” he muttered sarcastically, unwrapping his muffin and taking a bite, it was warm, and slightly too gooey, but good all the same.
The silence that followed (except for chewing), was anything but comforting
“You know-“ Matt started.
“Nah.” Peter cut him off, already aware that Matt would give him another speech about how he should just move out, or tell someone about his aunts problems. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, he just knew that ever since Ben died…it was…kinda hard for May to look at him. It was Peter’s fault he died anyway, if he had just been there-
“I can practically see the gears turning in your head kid, and I’m blind.” Matt raised an eyebrow and Peter laughed slightly.
“I just don’t think it’ll help anyone.”
“It’ll help you.” Matt countered, to which Peter looked away.
“I deserve it.” He muttered
“…nah, no you don’t kid.” Matt sighed, throwing away him muffin wrapper and finishing off the rest. “You should head back I suppose.”
Peter nodded, “See you around…”
“Peter? Don’t forget to swing by tomorrow, I want to check up on those lovely wounds you seem to adore collecting.” Matt smiled as the door clicked shut. That kid was going to the death of him