Chapter Text
Frank had found out where Daredevil lived through pure accident.
It happened a while back- he was on a neighbouring rooftop and spotted the telltale horned silhouette ducking through a doorway and heading into the connecting apartment.
He never mentioned it. Frank had told him before that he didn't care who he was, what he did when he wasn't in that stupid suit.
That's what he'd thought, anyway, until he hadn't seen the guy about for over a week. He wasn't worried about him, Daredevil was something of a nuisance to him after all, but he thought the least he could do was check in on him. Perhaps he was getting soft.
When the rooftop door finally opened, Frank could tell something was wrong. For one, his acquaintance wasn't wearing that damned ridiculous suit. He almost commented on that, until he noticed that Red's whole demeanour had changed. He was shuffling, as if unsure of his surroundings. And oddly, he hadn't spotted Frank yet.
Stepping closer, Frank called out.
"Hey Red, where've you been? Thought you'd skipped town on me..."
He expected at least a scoff at that, a sign he'd heard him. He knew his altar boy had restraint, but this was a bit much.
"Dude seriously." Frank said, standing in front of him now, hands on Daredevil's chest. That was when Red flinched, honest to god cowering in front of him. Frank would have laughed, if he hadn't seen his face. Eyes wide, he could tell that whatever the vigilante was seeing, it wasn't him.
"Red, Red! It's okay, it's me." He said loudly, but that didn't seem to work either.
The guy was trying to fight him off now, despite his clear injuries, and possible drugging. Frank easily held him still, guiding him to sit down with him on the concrete. Slowly, Frank watched the man before him start to calm. In this close proximity, Frank managed to get a good look at his face.
"Fuck, Red...you must be better than I thought..." He muttered, finally recognising him for his very own lawyer. Well, that explained the sight issue, but why wasn't he registering him? Frank considered himself quite perceptive, but Murdock had pulled the wool over his eyes quite brilliantly.
He remembered a colleague in the army becoming disorientated after getting too close to an IED when it went off, temporarily blinded and deafened by the blast. He'd only calmed when his team mates helped him trace their dog tags around their necks, feel their uniforms, knowing they were friends and not foe.
Frank thought for a moment, wondering how best to get through to Murdock. Then he was taking Matt's hand in his own, slowly guiding it over to his side arms, letting him feel them, fingertips spreading outwards to explore them. He then let him feel the larger weapon by his feet, and finally Matt worked it out.
"Frank...Frank I...I can't hear..."
His voice sounded small; a child that had lost his parents in the supermarket.
Frank finally admitted to himself that he was concerned for his Red. Gently, he guided Matt to stand, and walk back down the stairs into his apartment. Sitting him on the sofa, Frank began to pace, trying to figure out what to do.
Should he call an ambulance, take Red to the ER? But how would he explain being in his lawyer’s apartment, and what if this had been caused while he was Daredevil, and not Matt Murdock? Hell, what if the bullet Frank had fired at him was the reason for this? Frank could never forgive himself it that was the case. True, he hadn’t known that Daredevil was blind, but how could he be so stupid to take that risk? He had just wanted to teach the kid a lesson, scare him off, that was all…
He wasn't sure how long he had paced, but suddenly his thoughts were interrupted by a small, desperate voice.
"Are you still there?"