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Mat had to find out where this music was coming from.
He could hear the guitar being strung easily into the wind, could hear the voice singing the notes softly with a tone so beautiful Matt found himself grateful for his hearing if only for this moment.
The person was likely just doing this for himself -- Matt could sense that he was on a rooftop just two more blocks over. The singing barely hovered over a whisper, but it was loud enough for Matt to recognize both the raw intensity and talent behind it.
One more block.
Matt dove from one building to the next, anxious to get closer so he could hear it more fully.
He huffed as he landed with a roll. He was really close now. He could stop here if he wanted, but…
He went at the next building in a sprint. Just one more.
It was only two apartments down, now. Matt was already breathing heavily, both from the exercise he’d gotten that night and the excitement at having found this -- one of the rare gems Hell’s Kitchen had to offer.
He crawled to the edge, tilting his head as he took in the sounds. The song was soft, vaguely familiar. “‘Cause I’m leavin’, on a jet plane. Don’t when I’ll be back again. Oh, I… hate to go.”
It was deeper than the original title, but this was… better. To Matt. The soft acoustics and easy familiarity the singer had was comforting.
Against his better judgment, he jumped to the next building. The man was close now -- close enough for the lyrics to feel like they were being hummed directly into Matt’s ears.
God knows how the poor guy would feel if he found out Daredevil was starting to stalk him and his music. He’d likely never play like this again.
And yet… Matt tilted his head, deciding to allow the sounds of the heartbeat to filter in. It was calm, slow… and familiar. Huh.
But there was a second one, too -- faster and panicky.
Matt straightened. So the man wasn’t just playing for himself.
The music seemed to be allowing the other man to settle, to get his heart rate and breaths in order.
But the singer… Matt knew him. He knew that heartbeat, and…
“Whaa?” he said to himself. That couldn’t be right. Normally he was great with identification, but this had to be wrong. It couldn’t be Frank Fucking Castle up there singing to some… panicky guy (who was also familiar, now that he thought about it, but this wasn’t his main concern at the moment).
He had to check. Matt had to know for sure.
Quietly, he made his way to the back of his current building so he’d be out of view once he jumped onto the one with MaybeFrank. The music had naturally drawled to its close, and the two men on the building weren’t saying anything.
Matt jumped on. Neither stirred.
In fact, Matt thought his stealth was at its peak until he heard a familiar gravelly voice say, “Try not to startle the kid, Red.”
The other man’s heart rate spiked as he turned to look at who Frank was talking to just in time to see Matt squawk with surprise and trip over his own two goddamn feet.
Frank snorted. “Nice one,” he said, and he still hadn’t even turned around which so wasn’t fair because Matt was the one who had the super senses.
“Fuck you,” Matt shot back, but with his cover blown, he opted just to walk over. “I didn't know you could sing,” he said.
“You don’t know a lot of things ‘bout me.”
Matt angled his head to the other man -- Frank had called him “kid,” but Matt was certain they were about the same age. The heartbeat was still familiar, especially in its continued small panic. The man himself wasn’t exactly showing his fear at this point, having taken up to staring at Matt suspiciously with his muscles taut, either preparing to run or attack him. Matt suspected the former. “Who’s this?” he eventually asked because familiar or not, something was off with the guy. His structure felt wrong, like he’d been broken and reformed. It frustrated Matt’s senses.
Frank didn't answer. He held his guitar loosely, unconcerned. Calm.
“We’ve met,” said the guy.
Matt blinked. “Wait. No.”
His muscles tightened at Matt’s dumbass response. Even still, he didn't elaborate.
Matt sighed woefully, dropping to the ground and splaying himself out on his back. “I didn't recognize either of you,” he complained, and Frank snorted.
“Blind as a goddamn bat.”
“That’s a myth,” Matt continued in his pitiful tone. “So blinder than a bat.”
Dex -- because it was Dex somehow -- was now studying him curiously. Deciding to trust Matt’s self-imposed vulnerable position, he relaxed. “Is that a joke, or…”
Matt grumbled before turning his masked face at the pair. “I just wanted to listen to the music. I didn't come here to deal with two psychopathic serial killers.”
“I’m not a psychopath,” Frank defended, annoyed, as Dex at the same time said, “That’s fair,” tucking his knees into his chest and turning forward to look at the skyline.
“So have the two of you started teaming up or something? Because I’m really not in the mood to fight.” Matt waved a hand over his body to prove as much.
“No,” said Frank.
There was a beat of silence while Matt awaited a more detailed answer. When it became clear none was coming, Matt put his hands under his head. “So you aren’t teaming up,” he clarified, and then because he knew it would piss off Frank, added, “are you two sleeping together?”
“For fuck’s sake, Red,” Frank said, shaking his head as Dex just snorted.
“Nah,” said Dex, grinning in a way that meant trouble, “I’m sure he’d rather you for that.”
Matt choked, and Frank turned to Dex accusatorily saying, “What the fuck?”
Dex shrugged, not at all remorseful.
“Both of you,” said Matt, “are so annoying.”
Frank was blushing, but he still managed to hold his composure enough to bite back with, “Says the guy who came all the way here just for some fuckin’ music.”
“.... It’s nice music.”
“Fuck you, Red.”
“Y’know,” Matt said, sitting up, “I prefer you playing music and him listening to it rather than either of you killing people.”
“No shit,” Frank muttered.
“I haven’t been killing people,” said Dex.
Matt gave him his best, ‘Yeah, sure’ look despite the fact Dex’s heart told him he wasn’t lying. Then he said, “Have you been stalking people?”
Frank and Dex looked at each other.
Matt frowned. “You’ve been stalking Frank?”
“No,” they both replied, which was suspicious.
Matt narrowed his gaze. The two of them were being weird, and Matt didn't like it. Not at all. Come to think of it, he hadn’t heard anything about a recent string of murders from the Punisher, and he definitely hadn’t been aware that Dex was out and about.
Frank eventually sighed heavily. “He was stalkin’ you.”
Matt shook his head. “No. I would’ve noticed.”
Dex was silent for a moment. Then, “I’m very good at what I do. And you’ve been… distracted.”
“Oh my God.” Matt finally just took off his mask so he could grab at his hair. The fact that neither Frank nor Dex were surprised to see his face told him plenty. “Why? And what does Frank have to do with this?”
“He caught me,” Dex said, and the grin started to return, “even though you didn't.”
Matt frowned, angling his head to Frank. “How’d you find out?”
“Turns out,” Dex said, locking his hands together and stretching them out in front of himself, “he was protecting you.”
Frank was glaring at Dex. Matt didn't see it, of course, but if he could, the force of it probably would’ve had him jumping right off the building. Dex was largely unaffected, likely in part because of his psychopathy.
“Okay,” said Matt, “I still have many questions, and I’m really not happy about it. To clarify,” he said, whipping out a hand so he could start counting off his fingers, “you’ve been following me.”
“Yes,” Dex said, nodding.
“Was it your… North Star thing? Like, you wanted to imitate me?”
Dex swallowed at that, angling his head down. Frustrated. “Yes.”
Matt decided to let that drop before Dex got genuinely pissed off, but he was definitely going to have a conversation about that later. He moved on to his next finger. “Frank caught you following me.”
“Yes.”
“And he… what? Attacked you?”
“He shot me in the shoulder,” said Dex.
Frank was still clutching his guitar and wearing a scowl.
“He shot you? What, as a warning?” Better to keep addressing Dex -- Frank wasn’t about to be nearly as forthcoming. And maybe Dex was being so forthcoming as… an apology? Or maybe it had to do with his North Star status. Hell, Matt had no way of knowing for sure -- Dex’s mind was an elaborate shit-show that only he could make sense of.
“I thought he’d missed my head,” said Dex, “but yeah. It was a warning.”
Matt nodded. Moved on to the next finger. “And Frank found out you were following me because…?”
Dex looked to Frank. Matt was pretty sure Frank gave Dex the stink-eye. Dex turned back to Matt, opting to ignore said look. “He cares about you.”
Frank rolled his eyes.
Matt’s heart jumped. Frank wasn’t denying it. “Why are you two here? On this building?”
Dex dropped his legs so they were hanging off the rooftop. “This is where I’ve been staking out. He, uh… he realized I wasn’t gonna hurt you.” Matt almost asked how Frank realized this before remembering Dex’s rapid heartbeat from before. Frank caught him in a panic attack. When he asked Dex what he was doing… Frank believed him. And then decided to help.
“Huh.” Matt dropped his hands. “So… I have two fans?”
“You’re a fucking dumbass, Red,” Frank said, and Matt lifted his eyebrows in mock surprise.
“Wow, you can speak!”
Frank growled.
“But, uh…” Matt scratched the back of his head, “do I need to… do something?”
Frank, as if in imitation of Matt, rubbed the back of his neck.
Dex watched this exchange, and Matt could feel him practically vibrating, likely wanting to imitate the action as well but at least recognizing that it would be deemed strange. “I just…” his hand lifted. He forced it back down, “I want you to… to help me do what you do. I wanna do something right. That's why I was following you -- I… I wanted to learn how.”
“Oh.” Was Dex asking to be a sidekick or something? “I…” This guy killed Father Lantom and felt nothing. He was objectively insane.
But he wanted to do better. Matt knew what Lantom would tell him to do. “Sure. You can… you can join me on watch tomorrow. We'll go from there. You just can't… kill anyone, okay?”
Dex nodded, starting to wring his hands together. Then he looked to Frank expectantly.
Expectantly, as if Frank had encouraged Dex to ask this of Matt in exchange for something else.
Frank huffed. “I didn't think you'd do it,” he said to Dex.
Dex smirked. “I'm full of surprises. And adamantium.”
Huh. So that was why Matt didn't recognize him.
“What's this?” Matt asked, pointing at each of them in turn.
“You came all the way here for music, Red?” Frank said after a moment.
Matt tilted his head. “I-- yeah.”
“Gotta request?”
Matt snorted automatically — he was both embarrassed and touched, and thus, he acted like an asshole. “Can it be a love song?”
Frank shrugged. “All the more fitting.”
Matt barked a laugh. “Was that-- was that flirting?”
Frank drummed his fingers along his guitar. “You're the one who said love song, asshole.”
Matt grinned. “I guess I did flirt first. Look at us — adorable, right?” He turned to Dex wearing a crazy smile. “Right?”
“Not really.”
“Fuck you.”
“Like I said, Frank would rather be the one you--”
Frank hit the back of Dex’s head, which (to Matt's surprise) resulted in a small fit of giggles. Jesus — no wonder Frank called him 'kid.’ He definitely acted like one with him.
“I could kill you,” Dex offered around his laughs.
Frank opened his mouth to reply -- likely to suggest that he could do the same -- when Matt interrupted with, “God, please, no. I can't have two people who joke about murder. Frank! Play “It's a Small World!’”
“I'd rather die.”
“Anything happy.”
“Pumped Up Kicks?” Dex suggested, his smile betraying the innocent tone.
“A song about your childhood? Hard pass,” said Matt, waving a hand dismally.
Frank snorted, grinning as he lowered his chin. “Both of you shuddup. I'll just play whatever the hell I want.”
“Jingle Bells?”
“Hey Joe?”
“Fuck you guys.”