Chapter Text

“Hands up where I can see them! Throw away your sticks and get down on your knees right the fuck now! If you turn around, I’ll shoot!” Brett yelled at the guy dressed all in black, formerly and, he believed also currently, known as Daredevil, or the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. 

He had been on his way home from getting some take-out when he’d heard a commotion in a dark alley, because of course it was a dark fucking alley, and even though it was his day off, he hadn’t even hesitated to run into the fight waiting for him.

He was greeted with a bunch of guys lying uselessly on the ground and a badly bleeding Daredevil beating the crap out of the only guy not currently unconscious. Brett’s hands immediately reached for the gun that should have been on his hip if he had been on the job right now. Which he wasn’t. Crap. 

In the meantime, the Devil had apparently gotten the information he’d wanted and set out to scale the wall or something, so Brett had to think on his feet.

“Hands up! If you turn around, I’ll shoot!” he yelled at the Devil, who stiffened at once and tilted his head in his telltale way.

“Officer Mahoney.” the Devil acknowledged, and how the fuck did he recognize him by his voice alone? Well, Brett could ask him as soon as he had him in cuffs. But for now that wasn’t important.

“Get on your knees, I said! I will not hesitate to shoot you if you don’t do it right. the fuck. now! And it’s Detective Mahoney!”

“But Detective,” the Devil rumbled in his deep voice without turning around, “how will you shoot me if you haven’t got your gun with you?”

Okay, okay, what the fuck, how did he know that, there was no way he’d seen that, Brett was sure of it. 

The Devil must have felt how taken aback Brett was, because he slowly turned around to face him, a smirk in place. 

“I wouldn’t worry about the scum lying around, Detective,” he said. “I have what I came for and you are welcome to take out the trash.” 

Brett scoffed. “You better tell me right now what was going on here or I will have to get the gun that's strapped to my ankle.”

Daredevil’s smirk turned even more sly. “There is no second weapon. And even if there was, you wouldn’t shoot me and you know it. You like me, and you like what I do. You can pretend otherwise all you want, but I know you do.”

Brett made sure not to gape openly at the Devil’s words. “You know what? Fuck you and your presumptuous ass. You can die in a ditch for all I care,” he hissed. 

Daredevil, the asshole, just laughed at him. “Well then I’ll take my leave. See you soon, Officer!” he said, grinning, and climbed up a fire-escape that Brett could have sworn wasn’t there two minutes ago. 

“It’s Detective !” he yelled after the Devil’s retreating form, before looking down at the bleeding bunch of criminals. Freaking Daredevil!

If you wanted to find the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen at night, you either had to be a damsel in distress or just follow the punches. 

Brett had no interest in playing damsel, so he kept his eyes and ears open for any thug that might attract the Devil’s attention. It actually wasn’t that hard, as, after all, Daredevil didn’t really leave Hell’s Kitchen most nights, so it didn’t take that long to find the vigilante jumping from one roof to the other.

Brett called out to him, and Daredevil parkoured down a building faster than Brett could say “I’d be dead if I tried that”, before stopping at the window sill of an empty second floor apartment, and tilting his head questioningly. 

“I got your note,” Brett said, “but would it have been to much to ask to just, I don’t know, be a bit more specific than ‘Tomorrow’?” he asked, annoyed.

Daredevil shook his head. “Too dangerous, you know that.”

Brett threw his hands up. “Too dangerous for whom? And what? Why would you even contact me in the first place? You know I have to arrest you, I brought a gun this time!”

Daredevil’s lips twitched. “And I told you before, you won’t shoot me.”

Brett didn’t dignify this with an answer. “So what do you want from me?”

The Devil hopped down the window sill and landed silently on his feet right next to Brett, who did his best not to jump three feet in the air. 

“Tomorrow, go to the FBI. Tell them you have information on a drug deal about to happen at the docks in three days. There are officers from your department involved, so you must talk to the guys at the FBI,” Daredevil said, keeping his head and voice low. 

Brett stiffened at the mention of his fellow officers. “How do you know that? Why should I listen to anything you tell me?” he asked grimly, but the Devil just shrugged.

“I know it, and you know that I do what I can to help get drugs out of the Kitchen. Trust me on this,” he said and nodded at Brett, before vanishing up the building again. 

Brett followed him with his eyes as long as he could, and then shook his head. There was simply no way there were still corrupt cops in his department, it had been thoroughly cleaned out. Daredevil must be mistaken.

So, fun fact: Daredevil had, in fact, not been mistaken, and Brett would hit himself if he hadn’t been tied up at the moment. Literally. 

The bad guys had known they were coming, and now Brett and some of his fellow officers were at their mercy, much to his chagrin. 

The corrupt officers at least seemed to be uncomfortable in their position next to the other bad guys. Not uncomfortable enough to free him and the others, though, so Brett busied himself with glaring at them, as his gag didn’t allow him to hurl insults. Luckily, nobody was dead, so far, which for him seemed like some sort of miracle as there had been bullets flying around not one hour ago. Some of his people got hit, yes, but were mostly grazed, the bad guys hadn’t killed anyone yet, and Brett wondered about the catch that was sure to come. 

He didn’t have to wait long. The drug was an experimental one and they needed their guinea pigs alive, for the time being, and it seemed as if Brett would be the first person to test the stuff on. Lucky him.

Just as someone approached him with a syringe full of bad stuff, the lights went out, leaving the building in total darkness. 

Then the screams and the sound of people getting brutally hit in the face started coming in and, after a while, slowly fading out. Brett grinned ferally. Seemed like the baddies hadn’t accounted for the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, which was a pretty dumb move. 

Suddenly, the lights switched back on. Brett blinked, and when his eyes had adjusted to the brightness again, he looked around, expecting to see a bunch of unconscious bad guys. 

To his surprise, however, no unconscious people were lying around. Instead, a bunch of bruised baddies righted the tables and two of the corrupt officers carried a still and half naked body into the room, and for a moment Brett thought they’d actually caught Daredevil.

But then he looked more closely and was shocked to recognize the person lying on the floor, clad only in boxer shorts. It was-

“That damned lawyer,” one of the corrupt cops muttered.

Murdock’s unconscious and half naked form got also tied to chair, more so that he couldn’t just fall out of it again, Brett suspected. He looked up at the corrupt cops questioningly. 

The cops just shrugged. “Found him upstairs in an empty room without any other exits,” one said.

An other nodded. “Don’t know how long he’d been there. Only went up there because we thought that was the way Daredevil had taken off after we've injected him with a strong sedative. Didn’t find Daredevil, only found Murdock in his underwear. Don’t know if he was kidnapped or if some kinky shit was going on.”

“Eh, one guinea pig more,” the third cop said. “And one pest of a lawyer less. Talk about killing two birds with one stone.”

Brett wanted to scream. Yeah, alright, he and Murdock had their quarrels. And yeah, he didn’t really want to deal with lawyers in general. But Murdock was, otherwise, an okay guy, and didn’t deserve to get killed in a creepy old building by the docks, whatever he’d done here in his boxers in the first place. 

Brett was glad to hear that Daredevil had at least escaped and he hoped the guy survived this ‘strong sedative’ the corrupt cops had talked about. 

Why Murdock was unconscious was anyone’s guess, though. Brett kinda hoped he’d stay that way. He was still gagged and didn’t know how to explain to the blind lawyer that he’d woken up only to get killed. 

The guy with the syringe approached again, and this time Matt Murdock seemed to be his target. But just as the needle broke the lawyer’s skin, the lights went out and left the building in darkness again. Through this darkness, though, Brett could see a golden light, that looked suspiciously like a glowing fist, shattering bones and tables, and wrecking havoc on the bad guys. Between yells, suddenly gunfire erupted and Brett could hear the impact of bullets on something right next to him.

Finally, the lights turned back on and the sight that greeted Brett was one of destruction and chaos in the best way possible. 

Luke Cage stood like a wall of muscle in front of Matt Murdock, shielding his body from the bullets that some idiot had blindly sent his way. 

The Iron Fist, a masked guy in a green-and-yellow suit and a dragon tattoo on his chest, was checking Murdock over, and private investigator Jessica Jones just casually ripped the cuffs tying them to their chairs apart. 

When it was his turn, Brett first got rid of his gag, and immediately called the FBI, like Daredevil had said, before calling some ambulances, one specifically for the lawyer.

Then he turned to the still unconscious Murdock, trying to come up with an idea of how to help, though the Iron Fist seemed to do a pretty good job with his glowy-fist-first-aid. Nevertheless, Brett sank down on his knees next to Murdock and felt his pulse, worry making itself known in his heart.

“He’ll make it,” the Iron Fist’s quiet voice suddenly said, and Brett blinked.

“Huh?” he asked.

The Iron Fist looked down at Murdock’s still form. “He’ll pull through. They managed to inject him some of the drug, but he’s strong. I have no doubt he’ll make it,” he explained, and Brett nodded, feeling strangely relieved. 

From outside, sirens could be heard coming nearer, and Brett looked up at the three Defenders. 

“You should go now,” he said, and the other cops they’d saved nodded. 

“And thank you. We will not forget what happened here,” one of them added. 

The three Defenders hesitated only a moment longer, but with a nod from the Iron Fist after he'd taken a last look at Murdock, they vanished through the door. 

Only minutes later the first ambulance drove off, with Murdock in their care, and all the bad guys were rounded up and accounted for. 

Brett Mahoney went home and fell asleep as soon as he hit the bed. 

“Gone?” Brett asked the doc.

“Gone,” she confirmed. 

“But… how? I mean… how? Murdock got injected with some experimental, possibly deadly drug, and then he, what, just walked out? He’s blind, for Christ’s sake!” Brett threw his hands in the air.

She shrugged. “He woke up, demanded to get handed some papers to discharge him against medical advice, and got carried out.”

That stopped him in his tracks. “Got carried out?” Brett asked. “By whom? His best friend is, like, one head shorter than I am! He wouldn’t be able to do that.”

The doctor blinked at him. “Uh, the guy was rather on the big side actually,” she said.

Brett frowned. “Show me the footage. There’s no one Murdock trusts except said best friend, and I highly doubt he’d consent to being carried anyway.”

The doc sighed, but nodded. “Follow me. And yes, he was a difficult patient to discharge,” she said as they entered the surveillance room, “he refused to sit in a wheelchair, and nearly threw a tantrum until his friend got him to calm down and then he let himself be carried.”

They got two cups of coffee and watched how a big guy with a beard and a hoodie lowered himself to Murdock’s level and talked to the freaked out lawyer, who immediately visibly calmed. The big guy patted Murdock affectionately on the shoulder and then just picked him up like he weighed nothing at all. This alone was strange, as Brett knew that the lawyer always bristled when someone only suggested to help him along in any way at all, but here he was, with his arm around the big guy’s neck, getting carried out of the hospital.

The whole time, Brett couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew the guy from somewhere, but couldn’t point his finger on it. As they turned the last corner though, the big guy wasn’t fast enough to turn his head away from the camera, and Brett gaped at the video, his cup shattering on the floor.

What the everloving fuck was Matt Murdock, attorney at law, doing with Frank the fucking Punisher Castle?!

Chapter Text

“Hands up where I can see them, and if you move even one finger close to a gun, I will- uh, Daredevil?” Brett blinked at the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen standing in Matt Murdock’s apartment, with the Punisher nowhere to be seen. Daredevil tilted his head. “Detective Mahoney. What an unexpected surprise?” he said, not moving an inch and keeping one hand on Murdock’s couch.

“Yes, well,” Brett said, slowly creeping through the door he’d kicked in, “I’m looking for someone.”

“Ah. Uhm. Who?” Daredevil asked.

Brett furrowed his brows. “Wait a minute - what are you doing here, in Murdock’s apartment?” he asked, suspicious. “With him not at home, as it seems,” he continued after taking a look into all rooms. Daredevil seemed to sway slightly, but then planted his feet.

“I just wanted to see if Murdock was alright. I heard he, too, was attacked by those drug dealers,” the Devil said, clearly not very steady on his feet.

Brett frowned. The bad guys did say they’d injected Daredevil with a strong sedative. Seems like it hadn’t worn off completely, even one day later, but at least the guy seemed fine, otherwise. Though he would never admit it, but he had been kinda worried.

“I’m not sure you should be out and about in your condition,” Brett said, and watched the Devil bristle. He shook his head. “Come on, I know those drug dealers got you with something. Might be better if you laid low for a few days, no?”

That got a smirk out of Daredevil. “Why, Detective, are you worried about me?”

Brett scoffed. “Hardly. But, as you said, I’m not in the mood to make an arrest today. Well, at least not your arrest,” he grumbled, then sighed and made a decision. “You know, maybe you should worry about Murdock. He left the hospital against medical advice, and Frank Castle was with him when he did.”

That caused Daredevil to stiffen. “Frank Castle? The Punisher? But why are you- oh, I see, you tried to catch him here. Well, you are out of luck with, I didn’t see him at all. But, honestly, I don’t think that Murdock’s in any danger from Castle. The guy’s got a code, as screwed up as it is.”

Brett noticed how small droplets of sweat ran down the Devil’s neck. “Man, you’ve got a fever or something? Sit down before you keel over, jesus,” he said, gesturing to the couch, but Daredevil just shook his head.

“I’m fine, Detective. I’ll just… I’ll be on my way now,” he said, not taking a single step, and Brett was suddenly positive that the Devil would indeed faceplant on the floor as soon as his iron grip on Murdock’s furniture lessened. He sighed as he realized that the guy would most likely not leave until Brett did, in order to save face.

So he nodded gruffly at Daredevil. “Contact me if you find out anything new,” he said, turned on his heel and left the Devil alone in Murdock’s apartment. He slowly made his way downstairs, but stopped before he stepped outside. What was he doing? Leaving Daredevil in Murdock's apartment like he belonged there? The guy was breaking & entering, for fuck's sake! And he was also known for working with Castle from time to time! And where the hell was Murdock anyway? Brett grunted and stormed the stairs up again, only to come to a sudden halt one floor under the lawyer. Voices came from inside the apartment, and one of them sounded exactly like Castle. Brett drew his weapon and practically flew up the stairs and into Murdock's living room.

"Hands where I can see them, everyone on their knees!" he yelled at… Murdock? Yes, that was definitely the lawyer lying on the couch, covered with a blanket.

"Alright, where is he?" Brett demanded to know, only for Murdock to blink owlishly in his direction.

"Uh, Brett?" the lawyer asked, trying to sit up and failing, "is that you?" 

"Don't play games with me, Murdock! I know Castle is here, I've heard voices! And how the fuck did you get in here anyway?"

Matt blinked at him, confused. "I've been lying here for the last hours. Why, what happened?"

"Are you kidding me? I've been here, like, five minutes ago. You were not there then!" Brett strongly felt like strangling someone.

"Except I was? Asleep?" Matt said, finally managing to sit up, and okay, so he was only in his shorts. Again. Brett averted his eyes as Matt slowly felt around for a robe, but otherwise stayed put on the couch.

"Maybe you haven't seen me because the color of the blanket is the same as the one of the couch? At least I was told it was," Matt said.

Brett gritted his teeth. "And what about Daredevil, huh? He didn't see you, too?"

Matt just shrugged. "He was here? Hm, seems like he also didn't, yes. Now, what was it you wanted?" he asked, putting on his red glasses.

Brett officially had had it with the lawyer. "Frank Castle. Where is he? I heard his voice, so don't lie and tell me he wasn't here!"

Murdock smiled at him serenely. "But he isn't. You heard my phone's alarm clock."

"...uh. What?"

"I recorded all the times Castle threatened someone and made it my alarm clock. Listen," Murdock said and proceeded to play the file for him, where indeed Frank Castle's voice threatened bodily harm on various people.

After the file ended, Brett just looked at the lawyer. "One question: why?" he asked resigned and defeated.

Murdock's lips twitched. "Well, nothing wakes me up like Castle growling 'I'm gonna rip you apart, limb by limb', you know?"

Brett stared at him. "Man, you have some serious problems, Murdock," he said, shaking his head and retreating slowly out of the door, with Matt waving goodbye.

What a weirdo.

Chapter Text

Grabbing a drink off the plate of a nearby waiter, Brett thought he had never in his life felt this awkward before.

He took a sip.

A fucking police ball. 

On a fucking boat.

In the middle of the fucking river. 

Ugh.

He tried taking another sip, but the tiny glass was empty already.

Ugh.

He shouldn’t be here. He should be in the city, looking for Frank Castle, or at least doing some paperwork. Instead, he was here, in his dress blues, waiting for the mayor’s speech to begin. 

Brett grabbed another drink, stepped outside, and contemplated swimming to shore.

“It’s february. Too cold and too far,” a voice told him. “You’d freeze to death.”

Startled, Brett looked to his right and there he was again, that damned lawyer. He gritted his teeth.

“Murdock. What are you doing here? You police now?”

Murdock turned and looked in his direction. “Haven’t you heard, I’m the new guy in forensics,” he said sarcastically. Then he sighed. “I’ve been invited, by the mayor no less, because Nelson, Murdock & Page provided evidence to keep Fisk behind bars. Again.”

“Ah,” Brett said lamely. “You don’t seem too happy about it?”

Murdock looked up and now Brett could see a slight green tint around his nose. “Let’s just say, boats don’t agree with me. It’s all… wobbly, and I feel like I could fall into the water any second.”

“Yikes,” Brett winced. “Okay, didn’t think of that. So where’s Nelson? He should be able to keep you from wandering off into the water?”

Matt shrugged. “Eh, Foggy didn’t have time to come, and neither did Karen, so I’m here all by myself.”

Brett narrowed his eyes. “Oh yeah? And what about Castle?”

Matt looked at him with a blank face. “What about him?”

“Isn’t he your boyfriend or something?” Brett wondered aloud. Then he wondered if the alcohol he’d consumed made him finally ask the question after weeks of only wanting to do it.

Murdock’s eyebrows wandered up to his hairline. “I’m pretty sure he’d shoot you just for asking that,” he said.

A grin slowly settled on Brett’s face. “That’s not a denial, counselor,” he sing-songed, then shut up immediately at seeing the expression on Murdock’s face. 

“Jesus, I’m sorry. I must have had more champagne than I had thought,” he said. “Let me make it up to you: I’ll be the one keeping you from falling into the river today. Deal?”

Murdock blinked and tilted his head in a kind of familiar way, and nodded. “Apology accepted,” he smiled brightly and held out his arm. “Will you be my plus one for tonight, Mr. Mahoney?”

Brett rolled his eyes and grabbed Murdock’s arm. “Don’t overdo it.”

Murdock laughed and Brett smiled at that. Maybe it would turn out to be a nice evening after all. 

About half an hour later Brett would have liked to eat his words, if he hadn’t been too busy keeping the mayor alive, who at this point was in the process of slowly bleeding out. Behind him one of the bad guys began rounding up the passengers, all the while gleefully chirping about how they were all going to pay for one thing or the other. Brett didn’t really care, he just wanted to still the bleeding and then kick some ass.

Speaking of ass, where was- oh no. 

“Hey!” one of the bad guys yelled at Murdock. “Hey! You there in the stupid sunglasses! I said come here!”

Brett saw Murdock turning around, looking confused. “Where?” the lawyer asked, obviously frightened, his arms stretched out in front of him, cane swinging wildly and whacking one of the bad guys over the head.

The lawyer immediately stammered an apology, but the injured bad guy didn’t want to hear any of it.

“You! You blind or what?” the guy yelled, grabbing Murdock by the throat and pushing him out of sight.

Fuck, that wasn’t good. Wasn’t good at all. 

Brett heard Murdock utter a small “yes, I am”, followed by a short commotion. 

Then, a shot rang through the night. 

Brett felt his heart sink. 

The bastard that had shot Murdock didn’t come back. Maybe he was busy getting rid of the body, maybe he had better things to do.

Brett was furious. How dare that low-life shoot one of his friends? Sure, Matt had been a pain in his ass, but he did count him as a friend. 

He tried to calm himself down, tried to be glad that at least the mayor would make it, but it was no use. Also, there were still about twenty bad guys to deal with and Brett had no idea how they could come out of this alive. Well, the rest of them, anyway.

He balled his fists. They’d pay for what they had done to Murdock, or he’d die trying. 

Brett looked around. It was a pretty big ship, so the bad guys couldn’t be everywhere at the same time. Maybe he could sneak off somehow and try calling for help. 

It had been about an hour since Murdock had been killed and the party had been rounded up, so maybe the bad guys’ concentration would ease a bit. Brett decided to put that theory to the test and began slowly crawling away, always looking for cover. His colleagues regarded him with wide eyes at first, but then began moving carefully closer together to keep him at their backs and out of sight from the bad guys. 

Brett couldn’t believe his luck when everything went off without a hitch and he was able to leave the ship’s ballroom unseen. 

Of course, that didn’t mean he’d be able to call for help, but it was better than nothing. However, he knew that the hardest part was not behind him whatsoever. He now had to somehow enter the bridge, dispose of the bad guys that surely awaited him there, and then call for help.

He was about to turn a corner when he heard voices from the other side of it.

Shit! 

Brett looked around frantically, until he spotted the opening of an air vent right above him. Could it… could he? A ship of this size must have big air vents, sure, but wasn’t that something more suited for an action movie?

The voices came closer and Brett realized he didn’t have a choice, so he channeled his inner John McClane, reached for the air vent and crawled inside, right as some bad guys rounded the corner. 

Brett didn’t dare taking a breath until he couldn’t hear them anymore. They hadn’t seen him! He closed his eyes for a moment to calm down, then began slowly crawling through the vents. It was narrow as hell and much, much more difficult than the movies made it out to be, but after taking many a wrong turn, he made it to the bridge.

Cautiously, he peeked through the air grille to see-

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he hissed as quietly as possibly.

“Come down already,” Daredevil whispered, tilting his head in Brett’s direction.

“Chop chop!” Frank Castle grunted, looking up at him. “We’ve been waiting for the last five minutes!”

“What the fuck? How the fuck?” Brett hissed back, trying to climb out of the vents without making too much noise. 

It was a good feeling to stand on his feet again. He looked around the bridge and at the unconscious bad guys lying around, then back at the two criminals slash vigilantes slash whatever. 

“What are you doing here? How did you get here? What the fuck?” he gestured at the two of them.

Castle shrugged. “Heard there was trouble. Thought I could add to that.”

“Please,” Daredevil said, and leaned closer to Brett. “He heard Matt Murdock was in trouble and came running like an idiot,” he grinned, getting an outraged elbow to the ribs by Castle for his troubles.

Brett’s heart sank even further. Shit, hadn’t he been making fun of Murdock for partnering with Castle? Seems like he wasn’t that far off. 

He swallowed. “About that,” he said, clearing his throat and looking at the Punisher. “I’m sorry, but… well. Matt is… he got shot and… Matt is dead.” 

There was a short moment of silence and Brett bit his lip. Everybody reacts different to the loss of a friend or loved one. Some people cry, some people don’t react at all in their shock, some people-

Castle sank to the floor, trying to laugh his head off as quietly as possible. 

Brett furrowed his brow. That was not one of the usual reactions, but well. Frank Castle wasn’t exactly your average guy, now, was he? Still, that seemed a bit impious.

At least Daredevil seemed to think so, too, because he began to quietly kick the Punisher in the ribs and was… grinning?

What the fuck?

“What the fuck? What’s so funny?” Brett whispered, furious. 

Castle seemed to have composed himself and got to his feet. 

“Nothing,” he grunted at the same time as Daredevil muttered “tell you later.”

If that wasn’t ominous Brett didn’t know what was. He grabbed the machine gun of one of the unconscious bad guys and threw it over his shoulder. 

“So. We kicking some ass before I throw the both of you in jail or what?” he said irritably.

The two vigilantes grinned at each other and nodded. “Yes, Sir!”

Brett wasn’t stupid. Of course he didn’t want his colleagues to see him working together with Daredevil and the Punisher, that would only raise uncomfortable questions, so he stole a mask and pulled a bad guy’s shirt over his uniform.

What he didn’t care about, though, was the Punisher looking confused as hell as Brett mowed down the bad guys, yelling “Now I have a machine gun, Ho Ho Ho!”

The three of them made a surprisingly good team, Brett had to admit. Still, after shooting a bunch of bad guys - or in Daredevil’s case kicking a bunch of bad guys - he had to remember where they were: a police ball. With police. With Daredevil and the Punisher as wanted vigilantes slash criminals.

Brett managed to slip away to pull mask and shirt off, right before some of his colleagues rounded the corner.

“Mahoney!” one of them said, obvious relief in his voice, “we had feared the worst when nothing happened for a while! Seems like Daredevil and Frank Castle were behind this stunt. Always knew the whole good vigilante thing with the Devil was bullshit!”

“...ya...uh,” Brett managed to say as he was dragged along and outside the cabin so see what was going on.

The majority of Brett’s colleagues was there, and all of them had their weapons trained on Daredevil and Castle, who stood by the railing. Brett knew Castle didn’t have any bullets left and was glad about it; he didn’t want his co-workers getting shot. 

But as things were, they didn’t exactly look good for the two vigilantes. 

Until they glanced at each other and nodded. Brett knew that look: they were about to do something hella stupid. 

He stepped forward to stop them, but it was too late - both vigilantes grinned at the police and jumped into the freezing river. 

Fuck.

Immediately a search party in a boat was let down. Brett didn’t have much hope they’d find one of them. It was like Murdock had said in the beginning of this evening: it was february and way too cold to survive getting dumped into the water. 

Brett didn’t know why, but he felt his heart sink for the third time this day. Daredevil and Castle didn’t deserve to die like this, not after saving everyone on the ship. Why hadn’t they said something? Just let themselves get arrested, look for a good attorney, maybe even get Murdock and- oh.

Right. He was dead, too.

Brett felt like crying, especially at the thought of having to tell Nelson about this shit. 

He was about to go back inside when he heard the sound of a whistle from the rescue party, and he immediately stormed back to the railing to see who of the two vigilantes they had managed to rescue.

He couldn’t see anything in the dark, just a body getting lifted onto the ship. Brett sprinted where the other cops were already in the process of burying the body with blankets and heating packs, and Brett couldn’t see, not until he had squeezed himself through a mass of cops and then he saw-

“Matt!” he said, incredulous. 

He took a step back. There the lawyer was, freezing, and for whatever reason only in his underpants, but alive. Not shot, not killed, just really cold. 

Matt’s eyes opened and he seemed to look in Brett’s direction. Then he grinned in a kind of annoyingly familiar way, and passed out. 

“Gone?” Brett asked the doc.

“Gone,” she confirmed. 

“But… how? I mean… how? Murdock got shot at and then thrown into freezing cold water for a long time, and now he, what, just walked out? He’s blind, for Christ’s sake!” Brett threw his hands in the air.

She shrugged. “He woke up, demanded to get handed some papers to discharge him against medical advice, and got carried out.”

Brett felt ja déjà-vu coming on. “Let me guess. Big guy with a beard in a hoodie?” he asked the doctor, who tilted her head.

“Yes. Seemed kinda familiar, too. Should I know him?” she furrowed her brow, worried. 

Brett smiled at her. “Nah. It’s just his… partner. I guess.”

Then he turned around and walked out of the hospital. So at least Frank Castle had made it out of the water alive, and if he had made it, there was a good chance Daredevil had, too. 

Brett whistled on the way to his car. Maybe he should visit Murdock to ask the Punisher directly. Yes, he’d do it right now.

He started the car and went on his way to that damned lawyer and his murder boyfriend.

Chapter Text

“I must be way more tired than I thought I was,” Brett muttered to himself after opening the door to his house. “There’s no way I’m not hallucinating right now.” 

“Oh, welcome home!” his mother said, grinning from ear to ear.

“Welcome home!” Foggy and Karen said from their place at the dinner table.

“...yeah… that…” the Punisher and Daredevil muttered, sitting way less relaxed than Foggy and Karen, with Daredevil keeping his head down.

Brett blinked and drew his gun. “You two are under arrest!” he said, “you have the right to-”

“None of that!” Mrs. Mahoney said. “These are our guests. Put that gun away and sit with us.”

“Mom,” Brett hissed, his hand steady on the gun. “Those two are criminals and fugitives from the law!”

Daredevil opened his mouth, but got the Punisher’s elbow between the ribs before he could say anything. 

“Ah, nonsense,” Mrs. Mahoney laughed. “Those are two of the nicest boys in town, isn’t that true?” she said, pinching Frank Castle’s cheek. Brett watched as the Punisher flushed pink and Daredevil choked on his drink.

“There you have it,” his mother said. “Now put that gun away and help me in the kitchen for a moment.”

Brett sighed and decided to see where this was going. He knew those two criminals and was pretty sure nobody was in any danger right now.

He put his gun away and went to join his mother in the kitchen.

“Do I have to ask or are you going to tell me? Why are the freaking Punisher, a known murderer, and Daredevil, a known dumbass, in our house? Eating our food? Which I paid for? With the money I got chasing those two idiots?” Brett huffed and stirred the sauce. 

Mrs. Mahoney laughed quietly. “Oh, because I invited them, of course,” she hummed happily. “They did save you, didn’t they?”

“What are you talking about?” Brett furrowed his brow.

Mrs. Mahoney put her spoon down. “On the ship. The police ball? They saved you, isn’t that true? And helped you save the others?”

Brett’s eyes grew large. “How do you know that? Nobody does, they all think those two were behind that… incident.”

His mother huffed. “I’m not stupid, Brett,” she said. “Daredevil might be a bit violent from time to time, but he wouldn’t do anything like that. He’s a hero. Everyone knows that, except your fellow officers and detectives.”

Daredevil seemed to have problems swallowing his drinks, judging by the renewed choking sounds coming from the dining room, Brett thought. 

He sighed. “And the Punisher? What makes you think he wouldn’t take policemen and -women as hostages?”

Mrs. Mahoney shrugged. “Daredevil said so.”

“...what?”

“Daredevil said so.”

“Who told you that..?”

“Well, Daredevil did.”

Brett pinched the bridge of his nose. “When did he say that?”

Mrs. Mahoney tilted her head, thinking. “I think it was two days ago? Ah, no, that was when he carried my groceries inside. Must have been three days ago, then.”

“...you talked to him? Wait, he carried your groceries ...??”

Mrs. Mahoney huffed. “I told you he’s a good boy! Helps old Mrs. Smith fix her roof all the time.”

“Uh-huh,” Brett said, blinking slowly.

“And rescued the Mueller family’s cat out of the tree at least three times now.”

“Did he now…” Brett said. 

“And you know Mr. Johnson, who can’t walk well anymore? Daredevil picked up his trash after some vandals decided to kick it over!”

“Okay…”

“...and then he kicked the vandals off the roof!” Mrs Mahoney grinned ferally. 

Brett’s eyebrows shot up. “Alright, I get it, so Double-D’s helping the neighborhood. Why didn’t anyone tell me?” That would have made cuffing the bastard that much easier.

His mother shrugged. “Most people thought you knew. I, on the other hand, was pretty sure you’d end up quarreling with him and then I’d have to nurse you back to health because he’d wipe the floor with you.” 

More choking sounds from the dining room. 

Brett scowled. “He would not.”

His mother smiled. “Sure he wouldn’t, honey,” she said and fetched the plates.

“I’m a detective! If anything, I’d wipe the floor with him !”

“If you say so, honey,” his mother fetched some glasses and cups.

“I’ll have you know, I’d kick his butt!”

“Whatever makes you sleep better at night, sweety,” Mrs. Mahoney said, carrying the plates. “Please bring the pots out, so we can eat.”

Brett sighed. “Yes ma’am…”

“Thank you Mrs. M., that was the best thing I’ve eaten in a long time!” Frank Castle said after desert. 

Mrs. Mahoney beamed at him. “That’s so nice of you to say, Mr. Castle-”

“Frank, please,” the Punisher said. 

Mrs. Mahoney blushed. “Frank, then,” she smiled. “You’re very welcome to stop by every now and then.”

...yeah, no. Brett really had to put his foot down if he didn’t want to dine with the Punisher again. Although the guy made for surprisingly good dinner company for a murderer and- no. 

Before he could say anything, though, Daredevil seemed to sit up straighter and tilted his head in the Punisher’s direction. “We should go.” he said shortly. “Now.” 

Brett blinked, confused. Frank only nodded and stood up.

“Thank you for having us, Mrs. M., but we really have to be on our way now.”

Daredevil simply nodded along, then both went out of the door and were gone.

Brett looked at Foggy, Karen, and his mother, and again, before he could say anything, he saw police cars quietly swarming the street. 

He opened the door and stepped outside, confused. “Officer Williams?” he asked the first guy he recognized. “What’s going on?”

“Sir!” Williams said. “We’ve received a call of someone saying they’d seen Daredevil and the Punisher in this area. Have you seen anything?”

And Brett tilted his head and opened his mouth to tell them the two fugitives couldn’t be far away. 

Then he furrowed his brow and thought of his mother and the other people in the neighborhood. He sighed.

“Nope, nothing.”

Chapter Text

“I’m Daredevil!” Murdock proclaimed, and the entirety of New York’s police force gasped in surprise, while the villain du jour began grinning from ear to ear.

Brett banged his head against the wall. 

~ thirty minutes earlier ~

“Champagne, Sir?” the waiter woke Brett from his light sleep during the Chief’s speech. Accepting four glasses at once, Brett thanked him and sighed.

It was going to be a very long and very boring night at the police ball. 

Brett huffed and leaned back in his chair. If anybody had asked him, the time some villains took over the cruise ship two chapters back should have been a warning not to do any more police balls. But had they asked him? Course not. To make matters worse, the commissioner had decided to make up for the interrupted cruise and just do the ball some months later. 

So here they were, hundreds of policewomen and -men, enjoying the drinks, the food, the night.

And then there was Brett, who would have prefered to do some actual police work, maybe chasing the elusive Daredevil over the roofs. Or taking a break with him and discuss the newest evidence the Devil had found on Wilson Fisk. 

Hell, Brett would rather have dinner with the Punisher again than sitting here in his dress uniform, listening to the commissioner’s speech and- oh everybody has started clapping, was the speech finally over? Brett tried to hide a yawn, finished his second glass of champagne and immediately grabbed his third. One could not be drunk enough for this shit and this damned location didn’t serve anything better than champagne. 

The fourth glass managed to awaken the need to use the restroom. Ugh, Brett thought. Well, at least that damned lawyer isn’t here tonight, he grumbled silently, as he forcefully pushed his chair back, causing the figure walking behind him to stumble. Red glasses went flying and the arm not holding a red-and-white cane blindly grabbed Brett’s dress uniform. There was enough time for Brett to mutter “of fucking course” to himself, before he lost his own footing and went crashing down on the flailing figure of Matt Murdock. 

Stunned silence surrounded them for a moment, and Brett briefly considered just rolling underneath the next table and staying there for the remaining evening, but alas, this was a police ball and there still were some people with manners, so he grabbed onto the first hand that presented itself and let himself get picked up from the floor. 

He turned, and there was Matt Murdock, blushing and slapping the dust off his suit. Brett became aware of people glaring at him, as he was the one causing the poor blind guy to fall. Brett huffed. If only they knew what kind of asshole this particular blind guy was, they’d be thanking him. They didn’t, though, so Brett decided to be the bigger man.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Mr. Murdock!” Brett gushed. “Did you get hurt?”

Murdock smiled that ominous crooked grin of his and shook his head. “No, it’s fine, I’m alright. Has anyone seen my glasses, though?” he asked, still blushing. Come to think of it, Brett didn’t remember ever seeing the lawyer without his glasses. He looked around, but someone was faster and handed Murdock what looked like had been his glasses, only now they were obviously broken beyond repair. 

“Oh,” was the only thing Murdock said, tilting his head. 

Brett sighed. “I’m sorry. I’ll get you new ones.”

The lawyer shook his head. “No, it’s fine. I’ve got some at home. I’m just not used to being outside without them,” he said, sounding uncomfortable. Then he sniffed.

“Huh,” he said. “Smells like you bathed in champagne?”

Brett frowned and looked down at himself. Then he sighed once more. 

“Yeah, I seem to have taken some waiter’s tray down with me. I’ll just go and clean up real quick. Sorry again,” he said and began walking to the restrooms. Hopefully the Punisher wouldn’t kill him for causing his roomie to fall. 

Brett cleaned his suit as best as he could, did his business, and was about to go back to his chair, when the lights dimmed and all hell broke loose. 

As soon as the first shots were fired, Brett ducked behind a pillar outside the hall. From there, hidden in the shadows right beside the stage, he could clearly see and hear what was going on, but couldn’t get outside without crossing the hall. 

Huge guys dressed in black had entered the hall, all armed to the teeth. On stage, the leader was pointing a gun at the commissioner's head, smirking cruelly. 

“Don’t mind us,” the leader said, loud enough that even those in the back could hear it. “We’re just here for revenge. Give us Daredevil and we’ll be out of you hair!”

Brett frowned. Most of his colleagues blinked, confused. The commissioner, with his arms up, slowly turned to the leader. 

“Uhm,” he said. “What?”

“Daredevil.” the leader said. “Give him up.”

“We don’t have him.”

“What?”

“We don’t have him.”

The leader let out a bellowing laugh. “Don’t play games with me, we know he’s here!”

“Don’t you think that would have been in the news if we had managed to arrest Daredevil?” the commissioner said, before backing down again as the leader shoved a gun under his chin.

“I know you haven’t arrested him, how stupid do you think I am?” he hissed. “But I also know he’s one of you pigs! I know about the cruise ship, and I know he saved all of your asses!”

“Saved us?” the commissioner hissed right back. “That asshole and the Punisher were there to kill us all!”

“Oh please, my cousin led that operation and without those two you all would be sleeping with the fishes right now,” the leader laughed. “So I know that he must be here right now.”

The commissioner didn’t say anything, and the leader laughed. 

“So, Daredevil. Show yourself, we know you’re here!” he addressed the room again. “Let all your fellow officers see who you are, there’s no more room to hide for you! If you show yourself right now, only one person will be shot - you. If you don’t, well. We’ll just have to shoot someone every minute, won’t we?”

Nobody moved, nobody said anything. Nobody dared pointing out the very flawed logic and the absolute insanity of breaking into a police ball to demand for Daredevil, of all people. 

“Well, then I guess I’ll have to get started… with you,” the leader said, pointing the gun at a young officer, who’s eyes grew wide in panic. The leader was about to pull the trigger, when...

“Wait!” a very familiar voice grunted from the back of the room. “I’m Daredevil!”.

Silence.

Then everybody turned in the direction of the speaker. The leader began grinning from ear to ear. 

“Well, well, well,” he said. “Step forward, then.”

Brett would have banged his head against the nearest wall, but that would have made too much noise. 

Silently, Matt Murdock emerged from the back of the room, cane in hand, eyes unfocused. 

The entirety of the present police force gasped. 

The leader, however, frowned, then laughed. “This is not a game. You’re blind, what the fuck are you thinking– “

“I said,” Murdock interrupted, before grinning ferally, doing a flip and drop kicking one of the huge guys, “I’m Daredevil.”

Brett’s jaw landed on the floor, right next to the other ones in the room.

“What the fuck.” the leader said. Then he smiled cruelly. “Ah, well, what is a blind guy being Daredevil when there’s Aliens flying around. Come here.” Brett could see how Murdock’s face grew hard as he slowly stepped on the stage. The leader grinned, pointed the gun at the lawyer and was about to pull the trigger, with Brett panicking in the background, when…

“Bullshit!” the young officer from before exclaimed. “I’m Daredevil!”

The leader paused. “What?” 

“I’m Daredevil!” the young officer repeated. “Watch this!” he said, did a backflip and punched the nearest villain, who immediately sank to the ground. “See?” he said, puffing out his chest.

The leader frowned. Then he grinned. “I knew it! Couldn’t be the blind guy and-”

“Well, that’s some crap right there,” another officer proclaimed. “Seeing as I am Daredevil !” he shouted, before doing a double flip and roundhouse kicking the nearest villain, who again immediately sank to the ground. 

“Well, I-” the leader said, only to be interrupted by a middle aged female officer also announcing to be Daredevil, taking the next villain down. 

“Uhm,” the leader said to at least half the room shouting they’re Daredevil. Seeing his goons getting taken down one by one, he finally snapped. 

“Enough!” the leader screamed “or I’ll shoot every single one of you!”

The room got quiet. Most of the goons were lying on the floor, their weapons in the hands of the officers. Brett saw that the leader knew he couldn’t win this anymore, but before anyone was able to do anything, the leader had grabbed Murdock.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” he said. “You’ll step away from the exit and this guy and I take a nice long ride. I see anyone trying to stop us, the blind guy is dead, you hear me? Now, nice and easy and-”

Brett didn’t hear the shot, but he saw the hole in the leader’s head as he fell to the ground. He smiled and put his phone away. 

After everything was over, Brett found Murdock in the middle of a pulk of officers, all staring at the lawyer with hearteyes. 

“That was so brave, pretending to be Daredevil,” the young officer said. “You totally saved me there!”

“Well,” Murdock said, blushing. 

“Don’t sell yourself short, you were badass!” an older officer said. 

“How did you do it, anyway?” the commissioner asked, also in awe. 

“Ah, well, you don’t need to see to do a flip,” Murdock smiled. 

“But you drop kicked a guy!” the middle aged officer said.

“...yeah, well, I didn’t mean to? I mean, he just stood where I was landing? I guess? ...ha, what a coincidence, haha..” Murdock said and slowly tried to extract himself from the police. “Also, I only started it. You caught on quickly!” he said to the young officer, and all of a sudden all the other officers began singing their praises to the young one. 

Brett observed the scene a few steps away, but his eyes followed the quickly retreating Murdock. In the distance he could see a figure in a hoodie placing something that could be glasses on the lawyer’s nose. Brett shook his head and joined his fellow officers. 

Chapter Text

“Hands up where I can see them and- oh, whatever,” Brett sighed and put his gun away. Above him, Daredevil tilted his head. 

“Not chasing after me today, Detective?” he asked, clearly amused under all his usual brooding.

“As if I could ever catch up and I’m too old for this shit anyway,” Brett grumbled. “Besides, there seem to be other people wanting a word with you tonight.”

“Aye!” boomed Thor from his position next to Daredevil. “The daring Devil and I were having a rather private conversation.” He eyed Brett.

The words were polite. Brett took the hint anyway.

“Well then, I shall… see myself out of this alley? Your Majesty?” Brett tried, waved a little (Thor waved back), and decided to leave well enough alone for the night. 

There were other places where he could get his informations.

The Punisher looked like he had fallen right out of bed. Brett had about two seconds to be amused by a sleepy looking Frank Castle, before he was being grabbed by the collar, dragged inside, and had a gun under his chin. 

“How did you know how to find me? You shouldn’t have come here, Officer!” Castle grunted. His eyes scanned the windows, seemingly expecting invading officers any second.

Brett had difficulties getting his voice to work. Maybe this hadn’t been such a bright idea, but after having dinner with the Punisher, he had thought they were on relatively good terms.

“I came alone, Castle,” Brett said, voice a bit higher than usual. “I wanted to ask you a favor. And I’ve known you’re living with Murdock for some time. Never told anyone, so you owe me.”

Castle blinked at him. “What kind of shitty game is this?” he asked, tightening his grip.

“No game,” Brett squeaked. “Just want to get a message to Daredevil.”

Surprisingly enough, that made Castle pause. 

“Daredevil? Why come here then? He doesn’t live here. It’s just Murdock and me, no Daredevil whatsoever anywhere!” the Punisher said quickly. 

Brett frowned. “Uh.. I know? It’s just, well. You and Daredevil are often seen working together, so I thought you might be able to get a message to him. I’ve seen him tonight, however Thor was also there for some reason and I won’t be the guy getting roasted by a norse god for interrupting a conversation.”

Frank eased up on his grip and finally put Brett down, nodding. 

“Alright. Talk.” Castle grunted.

“It’s more a question. I need Daredevil to get in contact with me. I think something’s up with Fisk, and Daredevil usually has more info than I do,” Brett admitted. “So if you could tell him to contact me asap, that’d be good.”

The Punisher seemed to think it through and was about to answer, when an excited voice came from above.

“Frank!” the voice whisper-yelled. “You’ll never guess who I just met and- Brett? Uh, I mean, Detective Mahoney?”

Brett was actually impressed with how Daredevil’s voice changed von giddy with excitement to the grunting Brett was used to. Castle, meanwhile, looked as if he wanted to bang a head against a wall, and the only thing stopping him from doing so was that he couldn’t decide on whose head. 

Brett looked at Daredevil, who seemed to be frozen like a deer in headlights.

Castle finally smiled the fakest smile Brett had ever seen. “Red, good to see you and great timing for popping in! Matt’s still at the office, so make yourself at home. The detective wanted to ask you some questions. He does not want to arrest anyone today.”

Brett could practically feel the threat.

“Errr…” Daredevil said, before steeling himself and nodding. “I’ll just. Sit down then?”

“You do that,” Frank answered and turned to Brett. “You want a beer? Matt has great taste and only buys the most expensive ones. I’m sure he’d be very happy to share with you.”

Brett could have sworn the gleam in Castle’s eyes was even more evil and Daredevil looked even grumpier than usual. 

What followed was easily one of the most awkward nights he’d ever had. Including the dinner at his mom’s house. 

So when Brett left after hours discussing plans on how to take Fisk down, he stopped right outside Murdock’s door to catch his breath and pinch himself to make sure that yes, he really was awake. Inside the apartment, Brett could make out Castle’s muffled voice asking something, and Daredevil answering along the lines of “I was distracted! I mean… Thor!”. 

Brett shook his head and went home. Too much crazy for one night. 

The next night didn’t seem to be any better, though. A stake-out with Daredevil and the Punisher, to catch Wilson Fisk in the act. Brett was fully aware that this wasn’t quite the right side of the law, but he also wasn’t sure whom to trust at the station. Strangely enough, he felt he could trust the two vigilantes more. Well. The one vigilante and the one known murderer. 

He sighed. Maybe he shouldn’t have worn his uniform. 

Too late for that, they were at the creepy warehouse that Daredevil was sure Fisk wanted to use for his next crime. So they waited, hidden in the shadows. 

They had been waiting for hours, when Daredevil tilted his head, moments before Fisk finally walked in. He was accompanied by some henchman and other crime lords. 

They all sat down at the table in the middle of the warehouse and Brett watched as money, goods, and information changed owners. 

It all seemed to be going well for Fisk, who smirked the entire time and who’s glance seemed to wander over to Brett and the two vigilantes more than once. Every time, Brett was sure that they had been found out, but Fisk’s glance always went back to the table.

After more than an hour, one of the other crime lords stood up and turned to face Fisk. Brett couldn’t hear what was being said, but Daredevil suddenly went very tense.

Brett furrowed his brow and was about to quietly move closer to ask what was happening, when a door opened and four henchman struggled to drag a woman inside. The woman was fighting with everything she had, and none of the four had escaped unscathed, all sporting bruises and bloody wounds. 

Brett’s eyes grew wide. He knew the woman.

It was Karen Page.

“Shit!” Brett heard Daredevil quietly say. 

The Punisher was about to grab his guns and just mow everyone down, but Brett put a hand above the gun. It was too dangerous, they couldn’t take the chance of hitting Ms. Page. 

Brett turned back to watch the events unfold. Fisk looked at Ms. Page and seemed confused at first, but then grinned maliciously and gestured to a henchman.

It looked awfully like he’d ordered the henchman to shoot Ms. Page and Brett was about to begin shooting himself, when Daredevil took matters into his own hands: he jumped out of his hiding place, did some flips to avoid getting shot, and brought himself between Ms. Page and the guns.

Fisk immediately gestured for the henchmen to stop shooting. “The Devil himself. I was… hoping… you would make... an appearance.” The green eyes seemed to gleam. “It will be… a pleasure… to take you down.”

Daredevil snarled and pounced on Fisk like an angry cat, but one henchman got in the way, and what would have been a fight between Daredevil and Fisk quickly became a fight between Daredevil and twenty henchmen. 

“Fuck. I can’t shoot without maybe hitting one of our own,” Castle grunted. Then Brett heard a sigh and a muttered “saving that idiot every fucking time”, before the Punisher took off and threw himself into the fight. 

Followed closely by Brett, who was pretty sure he was out of his mind for doing this. But he definitely had to save Karen Page, who… just crashed a chair over a henchman’s head? Alright then. 

Next thing Brett knew, he was stunning henchmen with his taser left and right and was about to hit Fisk himself, but was seemingly too slow, because the Kingpin wasn’t where he had last seen him.

He was gripping Daredevil from behind, holding a dagger against his throat. 

The fight slowed down and came to a halt. Most henchmen were on the floor, bleeding. Ms. Page’s arm had some scratches, Castle was still sitting on a henchman, and Brett was pretty sure he himself had a broken nose. 

Daredevil bared his teeth. “What do you want, Fisk.” he snarled and struggled, but was unable to break free.

“Why, Chaos, of course,” Fisk grinned. 

Then he pulled down Daredevil’s mask, and Brett’s eyes grew wide as he looked into Matt Murdock’s bloody face.

Behind him, the Punisher let out a scream of rage.