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Being alive again has its perks. Madelyne knew that already— this isn’t even the first time she’s been brought back from the dead. A dead woman can’t listen to music or feel the sun on her face or masturbate, so yeah, she’s glad to be alive.
She’d be gladder if her resurrection wasn’t just a bone thrown to Alex Summers, but we can’t have everything we want.
Krakoa has exotic fruit rich in nutrients and exquisitely aged whiskey, but unfortunately it’s severely lacking in gourmet Italian coffee. Every now and then, Maddie makes her way through the Gate in Central Park and treats herself to some time away from whispers, weird glances and the ever-constant weight of bearing the same face as one of Krakoa’s most celebrated heroines.
There’s a Dazzler song playing over the speaker system of this coffee shop, which does nothing to improve her mood. She hasn’t even spoken to Alison Blaire since her return, and they used to be best friends. The things you lose when you go goblin. (And she doesn’t even have infernal minions or grinning mailboxes anymore. What was the point of it?)
She’s deciding on whether she wants a cheese danish or a banana nut muffin when she spots the red specs.
Her immediate thought is that Scott followed her here. It’s so invasive and infuriating that she contemplates stepping outside and burning down Manhattan all over again.
Then she sees the white cane. And it dawns on her just who it is that’s stepped into the same coffee shop as her. This time, the recognition isn’t infuriating— it’s intriguing.
The line moves forward. Maddie pulls out her cell phone to text Alex.
I’m like 95% sure matt murdock is in this coffee shop
who
the lawyer??
i don’t know any lawyers
he was the mayor of new york for like a second
i literally don’t follow politics outside of krakoa
kwannon says he’s daredevil
who is
MATT MURDOCK
i just googled him. is matt murdock not blind
he’s blind but when has that stopped mystique’s wife
be a little more open-minded
ok so if he is daredevil.
didn’t you attack him with a vacuum cleaner during
you know
I can’t be blamed for what the appliances did during my hot girl summer
At that point Maddie’s at the counter, with maybe-Daredevil somewhere behind her. She orders and pays with the credit card she stole from Scott.
She’s got nothing better to do today. Pestering a handsome former mayor who may or may not be Daredevil sounds better than aimlessly scrolling through social media. “Mornin’,” Maddie says, dropping into the chair across from the guy. “This seat taken?”
“It is now, sweetheart,” he says with a smile, and his eyes are definitely sweeping her up and down which. Doesn’t really make sense. His smile falters. “Hold up. Aren’t you— ? You were on the news. You’re Jean Grey!”
Her mouth twists as her stomach sours. “I’m actually—”
“ Shit ,” the guy whispers, charming demeanor dropped like a cold fish. “Are the X-Men after Matt? I’m not getting fucking involved in that, I don’t give a shit. And I don’t actually know where he is either, and you can read my mind and know I’m telling the truth, you dig?” He’s not stopping for a breath, and she can’t get a word in. “Foggy knows, you want Matt you go to Foggy. I’m not getting involved, not in mutant stuff.”
“I’m not Jean Grey,” she finally manages to say. He squints at her through the red glasses, looking for all the world like a kid getting caught trying on his mom’s shoes. “And… you’re not Matt Murdock, are you?”
“Keep that under your hat, huh?” the guy says in a low voice. “Matty’s drying up in some rehab center somewhere. I’ve been filling in.”
Maddie can see her own confused expression in the reflection of his glasses. “Filling in? Wha— are you a clone? Does Matt Murdock have a clone?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” not-Matt says. “A clone? This isn’t the Twilight Zone , babydoll. Matt and I are twins. He got the good looks, but I got the good sight.” He extends a hand, grin returning to his face. “I’m Mike.”
“Mike,” she repeats, shaking his hand. “You’re Mike Murdock.”
“People call me Matt,” he says casually. “On account of I’ve been impersonating Matt. And you? Does Jean Grey also have a twin?”
“Oh, no,” she says, trying to sound just as casual. “I’m her clone.” Mike stares. “Madelyne Pryor. Uh, Maddie.”
“Huh,” Mike says, leaning back in his chair until it tips back on two legs. “Lemme tell you. You’re a lot easier on the eyes than Spider-Man’s clone.”
“I would assume he’d look like Spider-Man.”
“Right? You would think.”
They sip coffee and commiserate for a little while. According to Mike, Matt is the studious golden child while he’s the charming screwup. Maddie admits that she’s kind of envious Mike even has a reputation. Between Jean, Sinister and the hell that N’astirh unleashed in her, Maddie’s scrambling to just be seen as herself.
“Madelyne…” His hand spider-walks across the tabletop to brush against hers.
“Michael.”
“D’you wanna get out of here?”
Apparently what Mike had in mind was a brunch place around the corner advertising bottomless mimosas, which is just fine by Maddie. The drinks at the Green Lagoon are good, but she has to put up with a gazillion morons mistaking her for Jean. At least here, she’s somewhat anonymous.
“Fuck, marry, kill,” Mike says, counting on his fingers. “Tony Stark, Sam Wilson, Carol Danvers.”
“Oh, marry Tony Stark. For the money,” Maddie answers. “Probably kill him later. Wait, can I fuck, marry and kill Tony Stark? All of them?”
“Nope.”
“Fine. Marry Stark, fuck Wilson, kill Danvers.”
“Wow. I didn’t know you hated women,” Mike says. She flips him off and gulps her mimosa. “Okay, do me, do me one.”
“Mm, fuck, marry, kill… Sue Storm, Reed Richards, Johnny Storm.”
“You’re a coward for not including the Thing, but okay. I’m definitely fucking Johnny,” Mike says. “But also… hm. Well I wouldn’t want to fuck Johnny more than once because I feel like he’d be the kind of guy who talks about his car while you’re having sex with him.”
“No, I totally see that.”
“So not marrying Johnny. Fuck Johnny, marry Sue, kill Reed.”
“Excellent choices.” Maddie raises her glass to toast his imaginary marriage to the Invisible Woman.
Mike clinks his glass against hers and then goes back to browsing the menu. “Should I order us some sangria too? Ooh, wait, they got a jalapeño margarita. I’ve been dying to try one of those.”
“They’re good. I’ll have one, too,” Maddie says.
“It sucks having to pretend to be Matt,” Mike says. “When I’m around his ex, and I’m s’posed to be him. I can’t have anything even remotely spicy.”
“Your brother doesn’t like spicy food?”
“Guy’s a friggin’ supertaster. Ketchup is too spicy for him, I swear.”
Mike orders the margaritas while Maddie ponders aloud whether she can trick Jumbo Carnation into giving her Jean’s outfit for the upcoming Hellfire Gala.
Passing the time with Mike is kind of nice. He’s funny, and he’s too self-absorbed to ask annoying questions about her clusterfuck of a past. Drinking with him and shit-talking Cyclops might be the most normal she’s felt since she crawled out of that egg in Arbor Magna.
“So he says to me— he says,” Maddie explains, trying to drop her voice into a passable Scott impression. Her imitative abilities dipped somewhere around her fourth mimosa. “‘Are you the reincarnation of Jean Grey? Are you Phoenix?’”
“Oh, Christ,” Mike groans. “What did you do?”
“I knocked his fucking lights out.” She licks salt off the rim of her margarita glass. “Anything like that ever happen to you? People who acted like they were into you when they were really into your brother?”
“Not exactly like that,” he says. “Matt did pretend to be me for a little while, and he… sort of dated his secretary. As me. At one point he was going to propose.”
“What the fuuuuck ?”
“He’s a weird guy!”
Late morning gradually becomes afternoon. Maddie and Mike snack on mozzarella sticks and bitch about the general state of things. The X-Men. The Avengers. The mayor of New York.
“I gotta tell you something,” Mike says, leaning close enough for her to smell the tequila on his breath. “You c— you can’t tell nobody. Right?”
“Got it,” she says, sloppily pantomiming zipping her lips shut.
“I haven’t always been Matt’s twin brother,” Mike reveals. “Actually? Actually? He made me up. I’m— shh — I’m imaginarary. Imaginary. And then one day— poof! I’m a real boy.”
“ What ?”
“It’s like your thing,” he insists. “Only, only instead of getting cloned in a lab, there was this, this Inhuman guy. And he made me real. And then, oh, oh, and then , there was this magic rock from like. Where’s Thor from. Anaheim.”
“Asgard.”
“Asgard. This rock, and I made, like, a wish on the rock and it made me real. Like with a real history and everything. Like I rewrote the, the, whatayacallit, the timeline. I messed with reality!” His eyes go wide and he takes another sip of his margarita. “That was like. That was probably really bad!”
“You’re gonna get in trouble ,” she whispers, loud, kicking him under the table. It is bad, probably, what he’s telling her, but it’s also in this moment the funniest thing she’s ever heard. “The Avengers are gonna be soooo mad at you,” she says, giggling.
“ Shhh !”
“Do you still have the rock? We should fuck with the universe more.” There’s plenty she could do with that kind of power— change things so Jean’s the clone and she’s the template, unmake Sinister’s whole existence, crown herself queen of Krakoa. “We should make the Sinbad Shazaam movie a real thing.”
“I was thinking either that or we could make everybody forget about Hamilton .”
“That’s great. We should be writing these down,” Maddie says.
So Mike’s only recently real. So Maddie’s not quite her own person. So what?
They’ve got more margaritas on the way.