Chapter Text
It’s only been a handful of times that Matt considered anything to be an act of God. The times he’s survived, the times others haven’t, but this was the first time it was an act of opportunity. Placing him just a few buildings away from your bank.
“Please, please…” The teller whispers into the floor next to you.
Whoever had decided to extend the bank hours was so going to be fired after this. Especially when only one security is hired for the night alongside one teller. You were the only non-employer in this hold-up. Only able to find the time to cash those stupid checks now.
Just like the opening of a side window, you didn’t hear the robbers come in. Only hearing the thwack and thud of the security guard hitting the ground. Facing away from you some red was leaking onto the tiles. It’s best to assume they had just broken his nose when knocking him out. Otherwise you would have been head bowed to the tile like the teller.
Time spent in Nelson, Murdock and Page law firm taught the importance of witness statements. Although face forced into tile you take every chance to glance upwards. To look at the robbers and try to find any and every detail that could be found.
There were four of them. Three were definitely men but the fourth could be a woman based on size and mannerism. So, at least they were diverse while committing crimes. All wore hoodies, black, and only two had pistol sized firearms. The other two (one being the possible woman) only had bags, immediately moving to the other side of the tills.
“Please, oh God, please…” The till worker’s voice was starting to break. She was an older woman, working here for longer than you’ve been a client. She was always smiling when you came in, now she was crying face first into the ground.
You, like one of the gun wielders, were both distracted by the teller. Too distracted to be aware of the sixth person entering the bank. You moved towards her with pity that reached out to touch her, him with annoyance the kicked at your hand. The blunt of his kick hitting the teller on her shoulder, turning her onto her side with a loud sob so heartbreaking you were about to cry alongside her.
“Will you shut up?” He asks, as if the teller was in the state of mind to follow any order. “And will you hurry up?!”
Darkness doesn’t come until after the first robber yells out in confusion.
“Robert?” is asked into the darkness that ate the world. Based on the closeness of the question it was probably the kicking robber who had asked this. Worry in his voice only lasting a second before creating an angrier tone. “Robert? What the hell?”
Robert wasn’t going to answer, instead the response is another yell. “Get away!” a definite female voice screamed, followed by thudding.
With the darkness more settled in your eyes adjusted. Seeing the shapes of the robbers holding their firearms towards the tills, walking slowly towards it. You could also see the teller taking her chance. Scrambling on the tiles in barely inch high heels to reach her feet.
For an older woman she can run like any track star. No looking back, no reaction to the robbers telling her to “STOP! FUCKING STOP!”, and even making the tiny jump over the downed security. It’s only the firing of a bullet that makes her dunk, but still, her momentum never stopped.
“Don’t just stand there!” Kicking robbery grabs your hair, pulling upwards that you have no choice but to follow. “Get her! Grab her! Fuck!”
The other robber doesn’t make it very far. Only into your line of sight before being struck by a dark object straight to his temple. Hitting the ground next to the guard who had received the same fate.
“Fuck,” The robber says, keeping your pressed to him.
“Fuck!” You say through teeth, too focused on the pain of your scalp to care about the fear of the robber. “Fuck! Let go! Fuck!”
“Shut up. Just shut up!” The robber says, letting go of your hair but holding your neck instead.
This hold was the only thing he still had control over. Squeezing hard as could be around your neck, ignoring your nails digging into his gloves, and the sounds of gasps and groaning from your windpipe being obstructed.
“Brett?” The robbery asks back towards the counter tills. Not getting a call back he fires at the first thing making noise, that being the drop of a computer to the ground.
A headache feels like the least of your problems right now but it’s only thing you could focus on. Pressure at the back of your head has been growing since your hair was first pulled. Combining it with slight dehydration and tiredness from suddenly realizing you had to hit the bank while in bed.
The robber spins the two of you around to face the backside of the bank. Moving so abruptly your legs were unable to follow, instead flaring to find purchase at the new position.
“I’m leaving!” The robber shouts, rattling your head worse than it already was. “And I- and I’m gonna leave her, okay? I’m leaving!”
To make his point, he fires a few more rounds into the empty of the bank. Your eyes closed from the shots so close to your head, burning in your lungs and pain in your throat the only thing that matters. Not the release of your throat or the impact of the tile when you collapse onto it.
Unlike the teller you didn’t cry while face first in the floor. Instead you were gasping down into it. Blood in your ears pumping double time to compensate for the lack of oxygen. It was too loud to hear the robber run away, or to hear the slumped over falling of said robber. Yet, it wasn’t too loud to hear your name being spoken, only able to fully hear it as a whisper than with a full voice that was being used.
“Hey, Hey,” That voice says, matching his voice with two hands rolling you right over. Blue and red lights allow you catch details of the hero. Looking up into the face of a devil you only ever read about. “Nothing’s broken, You’re just going to be sore.”
You nod your head, why are you nodding your head? And let him carry you bridal style. A little hop for your head to rest on his shoulder while carrying.
His eyes are a shiner red than the rest of his suit. Smooth shaven over his mouth and chin, what little of his skin you could see. Blame it on the leaving adrenaline or the high of asphyxiation but your hand found it’s way to his face. A gentle hold that leads into a gentle kiss that neither of you could stop.
It’s only the next day that you realized what exactly you did.
“I doubt Matt will really care about it,” Karen said when you caught up with her for coffee. “I think he’s going to be more concerned about your, you know, physically injuries.”
It’s takes some serious self-control to not touch your scarf. A gnarly bruise was left over from the other night, alongside it was a slightly damaged voice. Supposedly it’d be gone in a few days, but the bruising would take longer.
“Does he even know what happened?” Karen asks when you take too long to respond.
“Yeah, he met up with me at the hospital. Walked me home and all that but, I don’t know, I didn’t really wanna say anything else.” You say, then pause. “Damn it, I let a blind man walk home by himself.”
Karen reaches across the table to comfort you. Realizing her mistake of going for the shoulder and instead simply patting your head like a good little child. It was at least enough to get you to look up.
“He doesn’t care, okay?” She says.
Karen was right, and it always sucks when Karen is right, that Matt didn’t really care. There was no difference in how he greeted you. Tilting his head at an angle to, both allowing and demanding you to place a kiss to his cheek. Something that you give without another thought.
“How are you feeling?” He asks, not having the social protocol of Karen and immediately touching your shoulder, toying with the scarf.
“Yeah, just,” You shouldn’t bring it up. You shouldn’t say anything. But you do. “Did you see the news today?”
Matt shrugs, “Not since I was nine, why?”
“Blind, right,” You say, trying to rustle up the courage you had for a brief second. “I kinda, sorta…um-.”
“Where’s the lucky girl who got to lock lips with the Devil?” Marci makes her entrance to the firm with this exaggerated question. Foggy follows behind a little bit slower, letting his girl take the lead and smiling as he followed.
“I’m guessing you are that lucky girl?” Matt asks you.
You smile and nod, only to realize who you were talking to and verbally said yes.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I did it. He just, he was-I don’t know.” You had a plan, a format to explain what your train of thought was while kissing a stranger. “He just, he smelled like you, you know?”
The room is now quiet.
“No,” Foggy finally says. “None of us know what you mean by that.”
“I kinda do, actually.” Matt confirms, hand going from your scarf to your hand.
“Besides, it was a masked vigilante, it doesn’t count.” Marci says, probably in the office for the sole reason to hear this current kerfuffle.
“So, I can kiss Spider-Woman?” Foggy asks.
“I will not stop you if the opportunity arises.” Marci promises.
It takes a few more minutes for the joking and talking to stop. Matt not participating unless directly talked to, and you doing the same. Staying in your chair and reaching out to hold Matt’s arm to get his attention.
“I am really sorry; I am so sorry.” You say, leaning into him to try and find that familiarity.
“I get it,” He says, but whispers. “This means I get a freebie with Black-widow, right?”
“Of course, but you could do better.”