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Matt Murdock's been thrown in a lot of dumpsters in his time, but this is definitely the first time he's been thrown in one that already had an inhabitant.
"Who are you and why are you in my dumpster?" Is what greets him when he wakes up.
Any reasonable person would probably reply with something along the lines of "what the fuck?", or "why am I in a dumpster" or maybe even, "why is there someone in this dumpster in the first place?" but Matt Murdock is not a reasonable person so instead he says, "What makes this your dumpster?"
"Um, maybe the fact that I am currently residing in it and was having a lovely time until you landed on my head?" Says the annoyed voice.
"This is as much my dumpster as it is yours." Matt says, because apparently he is a child. "Why are you even in here in the first place?"
"I was trying to rescue a dog."
"A dog put you in a dumpster?"
There's a pause and Matt assumes the guy is rolling his eyes.
"No, the guys I was trying to rescue the dog from." He sounds put out, and Matt thinks he probably didn't save the dog. Maybe if the guy wasn't being such an asshole Matt would help him.
"Anyway," He continues, "Why are you in a dumpster?" The guy pauses. "My dumpster."
Honestly, Matt's not entirely sure, which makes him wonder how badly he hit his head. He remembers a fight with the Russians, and punches. Lots of punches. Punches that hurt.
"I was in a fight."
"I figured that much out, buddy. Didn't think you threw yourself in here."
Matt groans as he heaves himself into a more comfortable position, not bothering to reply.
"Also, no offence," Matt wonders if this dude ever stops talking, "But your outfit's pretty shitty, bro. I mean firstly, it's made out of like, cotton or whatever? Spandex, maybe? Not gonna lie, it looks rad and makes your ass look fabulous," Matt resists the urge to kick the guy, "but it's hardly gonna deflect a punch and I'm pretty sure you've got a couple of broken ribs."
Ok, so this isn't news to Matt. Well, maybe the bit about his ass, but he's in the process of getting a better suit, and judging by the extremely worrying crunching noise that his chest made when he moved, the guy was probably right about those ribs.
"And secondly?" He offers helpfully, because Matt Murdock is a helpful guy. Even to assholes who claim personal rights of public dumpsters.
"Oh yeah. Um, just my opinion, but maybe you should invest in a mask that doesn't cover your eyes when you fight?"
Matt pauses, for extra dramatic effect, and puts on his most serious of serious faces.
"I don't have any eyes." He says, slowly and in the voice he only reserves for super evil villains and assholes in dumpsters.
"Wait what?" He imagines the look of horror on the guys face and it makes him feel slightly better.
"Nah, I'm just kidding-"
"Oh, thank Christ, you had me worried for a s-"
"But I am blind."
"You- Oh. Shit dude, sorry."
Matt waves a hand absently, ready with his usual "it's not your fault" because for some reason people always want to apologise when they hear unfortunate news, but the guy starts talking again. Matt wonders if he ever gets tired of his own voice.
"I mean, it's kinda ironic actually, since I'm deaf."
Oh. So he doesn't get tired of his own voice. That explains all the talking. And the weird static-y echo he was hearing that must be the dudes hearing aids.
"Bro, we should totally team up, the guys who put us in here would never see it coming!"
"Yeah, it's an idea." Matt says idly, fumbling around for his phone. He pulls it out his back pocket, narrowly avoiding elbowing the guy in the face (although the shriek he makes is one Matt will treasure) and hits speed dial for Claire. She picks up on the second ring.
"Please don't tell me I have to pick you up from another dumpster again."
"Uh." Matt says eloquently.
"Really, Matt? Ok, I'm on my way."
Matt hangs up and makes a mental note to thank Foggy for installing GPS on his phone but then his trash friend starts talking again and he wishes Claire was still on the phone.
"Was that a girl?" He asks and Matt presses his fingers to his temple to try and ward off the oncoming headache and prays to God to give him patience.
"Yes."
"A special girl?"
"No. She's just a friend."
Maybe he says it sharper than he intended, because the air shifts as the guy holds up his hands.
"Sorry, bro, just asking. Hey, what's your name anyway? In my head you're currently Dumpster Dude, and now I feel like we're friends and it's kinda weird to refer to my frien-"
"Matt. My name's Matt."
"Sweet. I'm Clint. I'd hold out my hand for you to shake but one, you're blind and it would probably be kinda rude since you can't see my hand, and two, I touched something sticky earlier and I'm still not sure what it is."
He's about to reply when he hears a familiar voice calling his name, and breathes a sigh of relief. Which isn't very relieving since his ribs are probably broken in twelve places if that's even possible and it hurts a lot more than he would expect. But Matt Murdock is strong. Matt Murdock can handle pain. He does not cry, no that is not a tear and even if it is he still has the mask on so no one would know.
"Matt?" Claire's looking down at them, no doubt extremely confused by Matt's weird trash friend. "Oh, you must be Clint." Matt frowns.
"Kate! Kate, he's over here. Yeah, they're in the same dumpster. Unbelievable." Claire shouts, and Matt hears footsteps and another woman's voice join.
"It's like collecting our kids from school, except they're grown men and we're collecting them from dumpsters."
Clint's standing up now and judging by the soft, barely audible sound of skin on skin, he's signing quick fire with who Matt can only assume to be Kate.
"Matt? You alright?" Claire says.
His reply consists of a groan and he hopes it conveys the message of 'yes I'm alright but I'm also in incredible pain please get me out of here but also I don't want my trash friend Clint to think I can't handle pain'. Claire sighs, so he assumes she got it.
He's about to haul himself out however, when someone sticks a hand in front of him.
"I am offering you my hand." Clint says and Matt shakes his head with a smile, but takes it anyway. He's stronger than Matt expected and he manages to get into a relatively stable standing position without too many embarrassing noises of pain.
Finally, once they've both been extricated from the dumpster, they're ready to go, and Matt hates to admit it, but he's gonna miss this weird friendship he made in the limbo that is a dumpster, where time doesn't exist and rules don't apply. At least, that's how Clint put it and Matt wasn't in any position to argue.
"I guess this is goodbye." Clint says as their counterparts walk them to the main road.
"It was nice meeting you, Clint. See you around."
"Yeah. Hopefully not in my dumpster though."
"It's not your dumpster, it's government property."
"You're government property." Clint says petulantly under his breath, but Matt hears it and sniggers. Clint smacks his arm.
"We'd make a good duo, me and you. Hey, if we ever meet again, we should make our own sitcom where we fight crime and save the world; you can use your super hearing and I'll use, like, my eyes."
"Sounds like a plan."
"What would it be called?" Clint shouts as Kate tries to force him into the car, shaking her head. Matt hears her mutter 'Children, both of them'.
Judging by the death grip Claire has on his arm as she tries to get him into her car, he's minutes away from her performing surgery on him right there. Don't ever let it be said that she's a bad nurse, but it only gives him second to think, before yelling back.
"'Hear no evil, see no evil.'"
The car door shuts, but that doesn't stop him hearing Clint's laugh, and the muffled 'fucking amazing' from the other car. He smiles to himself. Matt Murdock's been thrown in a lot of dumpsters in his time, but this is definitely the first time he's made a friend in one.
