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Objectivity is an essential trait to possess in the field of law. It is also an essential trait in the field of vigilante justice but that was a discussion Matt wasn’t really interested in anymore. Those days were behind him, as far as he was concerned.
Quite a few people digressed, including Jessica and the others, but contact with them was somewhat minimal these days. Especially since the snap and all the fallout that came from that. He was quite content on closing the pages to that chapter in his life.
Karen would visit occasionally. Things were quite awkward since Foggy, but he would try to meet in the middle, as she would suggest every few times they met. However, suggestions were one thing – acting on them was another thing entirely. More often than not, their visits would turn into a frosty tug-of-war with each pulling away from the middle instead of the opposite.
He wasn't fraying at the edges. He wasn't. He had begun a new practice with Kirsten, and he put all of his waking energy into law. The system worked, because it put Poindexter away for good, and if it could do that, it could put so many others away for good as well.
He wasn't spiraling. He had convinced the world of that, he sure as hell could convince himself of it. Was it a sustainable way of living? No, and he knew that, and so did Kirsten, and Karen, and Jessica, and she always made sure to point it out every single time the merry little gang showed up at the rooftop of his apartment. How did they even find his new address? Oh right, Jess.
The pitfalls of having one of your close allies be a master investigator was that there simply weren't enough houses to hide in, even in a city as big as New York. He tried to leave them behind along with his old life. It wasn't an easy decision to make, and they sympathized with his plight. Danny and Luke would show up from time to time to check on him, with decreasing frequency. Eventually, once they realized that the devil wasn't rearing his horns back up anytime soon, they left him to his own devices. The last time they visited, they had rather helpfully left a calling card in braille if he ever needed something.
Not her, though. Like Karen, Jessica kept popping up, more often than the others, seemingly random yet somehow not. It was very easy for them to find each other too, there was always that characteristic scent of leather and alcohol, accompanied by a subtle yet fierce strength. There would always be an air of nonchalance around her like a shield, a shield that she put up a long time ago that very few people have broken through.
He wondered if he did. And then he wondered why he was wondering about her all of a sudden.
Oh. She was here. Again.
—
Objectivity was something Jessica treasured in her life. Having a sense that her judgement was the correct one, and having an innate assurance that her decisions were her own was something she had learnt to value the hard way. While her job would occasionally put her and Matt on opposite sides of the courtroom as part of the prosecution and defence, she still appreciated his sense of justice, even if it varied from her own.
This was, of course, until Foggy, when all of that went flying out the window.
Jessica found her mind to be at odds with itself. She did not enjoy that feeling at all. On one hand, she had seen the effect of Daredevil’s work and how much it helped people. And yet, she found a small part of herself agreeing with his decision to go the legal route. It was quite a conundrum.
So here she was. Sulking in the dark. Not her thing at all, she thought. It was something that had rubbed off on her from Matt. He was the dramatic one. Even now, outside of the suit, outside of that life.
Why was she here again? Oh, right. To ‘check up’ on him.
It wasn’t her job. There was no need to constantly be babysitting Matt like this. And yet, she would discover her mind wandering back to him, over and over, like a tape recorder stuck in a loop, incapable of escaping its self-imposed misery. Her inner detective instincts had begun subconsciously analysing possible reasons for her erratic behaviour, and a few scenarios were beginning to emerge, none of which she felt interested to entertain.
Distractions, Jess, think! Think, think, thi-
Ah! Rooftops. Rooftops were nice. They were cool, relaxing, shielded her from prying eyes and gave her some brilliant vantage points to spy in the city. Perfect for a person with her job. The cover of night was a good addition too, city-dwellers were far too engrossed in their phone screens to look up and see an enhanced individual leap across buildings. She briefly contemplated if she was trying to hide her identity and then chuckled at the incredulity of that idea. Jessica would be the last superhero caught with a mask, Matt would never let her live that down.
She was here.
—
A light breeze caressed Matt’s face, as he walked out on the rooftop. A near-silent swoosh (not fully silent to him, of course) to his left alerted him to Jessica’s presence. The scent of liquor and the grit of New York was much stronger on her up here. He expected to be greeted by the eerily slow pace of Jessica’s pulse, a result of her superpowered metabolism that made sure she rarely was out of breath, even after such physically exerting acts.
Except today, her heart was a little faster than normal, and that little fact caused his perpetually hypersensitive senses to go into overdrive.
—
A light breeze caressed Jessica’s face, as she stood a few feet away from him. She saw him tense ever so slightly, the blood draining from his knuckles as he clutched his cane. Clearly, something was bothering him as much as it was bothering her too, and his damned superhearing had given her away. Oh, well. Might as well get this over with.
“Nice to see you’re still alive,” she began by way of greeting.
Matt smiled. It was a whimsical, yet melancholy smile.
“Much easier to do that when you’re not getting your head bashed in every night,” he replied.
“That was always a you problem, Murdock. You have never seen me cosplaying in the dead of night for good reason.” They moved closer to each other, and began walking together towards the ledge. It was their usual seat.
“Hard to argue with that logic, which is why I solved it. No more cosplay from my side anymore,” The soft clunks of the cane being folded echoed in the night.
“Yeah, I suppose,” They sat on the edge, the half-moon in the midnight sky glistening over their heads.
Silence fell.
For a period of time that was both instantaneous and infinite, they sat in each other’s company. The breeze would come and play with his hair, and if she listened carefully, Jessica could hear her heart speeding up (which she was sure Matt was hearing as well.) It puzzled her. They had been seeing each other for weeks, why did this feel different?
Or was it always different? Did it become different? Why did this mystery vex her so much?
She hated not feeling objective anymore.
—
His hands were sweaty. They were practically unnoticeable to the human eye, but his hands were unusually warm for this cool weather, and of course he could feel even such a minuscule difference in body temperature. He listened to Jessica - her heart, usually a steady thrum of confidence, was jittery today, and somehow it made him jittery too. This visit was just one of many, right? She was checking up on him.
Why, he wondered. It would only make her miserable. And making Jessica Jones more miserable than she already is would be quite the achievement.
Then why didn’t she stop? What even was going on here anymore?
He moved closer to her.
Jessica moved towards him.
—
“I don’t really need you to be my therapist, Jones,” Matt began. “For starters, you’re not qualified for the job. And secondly, it’s gotta be miserable looking at my sorry state like this every week.”
“Who the fuck said I was your therapist?” She snapped back.
“Then why do you come here every week and dive into my misery headfirst?”
“I like solving mysteries.”
“Even emotional ones?”
“Especially the emotional ones,” she drawled, fully aware Matt would pick up the sarcasm through her tone and sped-up heartbeat. She didn’t care one bit. “Maybe I just like sitting on rooftops in silence.”
“Your house has a roof. Why bother coming here?”
“It’s quiet here.”
“You could have it quieter by not having me here at all.”
“I didn’t call you. You’re the one who came upstairs after hearing me.”
“Yeah, because landing on the rooftop of a single blind guy’s house at midnight isn’t gonna look suspicious at all.”
“You came here to protect me from getting arrested?” Now Jessica laughed, a full, hearty chuckle. “That’s actually quite sweet of you.” she continued, still smiling.
“Nice to see that you don’t take the law seriously,” he was smiling now too. “Must be quite fun as a private investigator.”
“Totally,” she rolled her eyes at him, but there was a hint of warmth in her voice.
They fell into silence again after a bit more chitchat, but this time, the breeze played with Jessica’s hair, and Matt heard the soft tinkle of her earrings.
He was not feeling very objective anymore. And somehow, it was freeing.
—
The half moon glistened on, through the night.