Chapter Text
This is how it starts. Danny Rand is back in New York, apparently. The heir of Rand Industries disappeared in the crash that killed his parents some odd ten years ago, but he's back now with a friend. And well, he's bored.
He spends most days practicing or meditating in Colleen's dojo. He's trying new things. Weed, alcohol, music, subway trains, deli sandwiches, jeans. He decides that he still prefers yoga pants. He’s been listening to a lot of music nowadays, mostly from the 70s, 80s, even 90s.
It's cool. It's really cool. He has more money than he knows what to do with and the world is basically in his palms and he's bored. It isn't like music is a totally new thing. He had it back in K'un Lun. He was in a band with Colleen for a while. He still has a proficiency for the drums.
Well, Colleen is busy with her dojo these days. Ward is running the business. Danny is bored.
Here’s how it really starts. There’s a bar in Manhattan called Luke’s.
Well, here’s how it really, really starts. In Luke’s bar, there’s a stage and a poster and a regular. Her name is Jessica Jones. She eyes the poster up and down. There’s a music night coming soon, some old time thing, they’re looking for performers. Anybody but a keyboardist.
Jessica glances up from her drink. It’s only her third whiskey tonight and knowing her, she’ll be here till morning.
“Why not a keyboard?” She asks, glancing sideways for a moment as three new patrons walk in. They stumble in is more accurate, with the way they’re all clinging to each other, high on night energy and companionship. She turns back to Luke.
“Because I play keyboard.” He reminds her. They haven’t discussed music in some time. “We have a bass if you’d like to join.”
Right, she recalls. Luke’s been to her place before. He’s probably seen the bass. Or maybe she’s mentioned it in one of her drunker moments. She can’t recall. Either way, she chuckles, lifting the rim of the glass to her lips.
“Nah. Don’t really play anymore.” She mumbles.
That’s a lie. She just doesn’t play in public anymore. She remembers college, when she’d been some aspiring musician looking for a band. It’d been how she met Luke in the first place. He didn’t have the bar back then, they hadn’t even gone to university together. They’d met by total coincidence in a jazz bar in Queens.
Somehow, they’d started talking, and then a few nights later they were at another show together with a bunch of other strangers in nightclubs and then Kilgrave and Reva happened. Then Reva died and Kilgrave isn’t dead, but he’s gone and Jessica wishes he was dead. And now they’re back here. Square one.
In a funny way, Luke’s one of her oldest friends, aside from maybe Trish and Malcolm. Actually, they might be her only friends period.
“You could.” Luke says with a smile.
It’s one of those small genuine ones that makes her heart clench in an uncomfortably vulnerable way. She pushes the memories away and opens her mouth to retort but the three friends from before interrupt before she can think to say anything else.
Luke Cage turns his attention to his new patrons who are deeply enraptured in some kind of half-hearted argument where there’s a lot of laughter and it seems like a conversation that’s been worn down a million times before. He doesn’t really pay attention to it. If he paid attention to every conversation that happened by his bar, he’d never get any work done.
They settle, asking for shots and joking amongst themselves. A perky young man slides in, grinning. Jessica feels as though she vaguely recognizes him, but she can’t remember from where.
“So, do you have a drummer or not yet?” He asks.
“No. Would you like to sign up?” Luke asks in his best customer service voice. Jessica snorts into her drink.
He nods eagerly, reminding Jessica of all the bubbly aspiring college kids she’d ever met who thought they’d turn into something great. It sort of disgusts her. She kind of misses it.
“Sure! I was in a band, you know?” He grins.
“Really?” Jessica scoffs sardonically, sarcastic interest dripping from her tongue.
The kid either doesn’t notice or ignores her attitude, because he barrels right through her sarcasm with a grin. “Yeah! Me and my friend, Colleen, we were a band called the Immortal Iron Fist. I’m Danny Rand.” He sticks a hand out.
Oh, that’s how she knows that face. It’s that rich kid who disappeared off the face of the planet for the better part of a decade and reemerged claiming to have been rescued by Chinese monks or something. He isn’t really interested in the family business from what Jessica’s heard. He’s a kid, really. Luke jots his name down in some sort of list.
Jessica doesn’t take his hand, instead turning around and mumbling something about another shot. Luke huffs out a laugh or maybe a scoff, she can’t really tell, and replaces her glass. Danny is relentless though.
“So, are you playing bass?” He asks.
“Didn’t the maids or whoever raises little rich kids tell you it’s rude to eavesdrop?” She scowls.
Danny’s face falls for a moment, but when he’s smiling again by the time apologizes. He’s gone twenty minutes later, left with nothing to do. Promises to return for music rock night or whatever it says on the poster (Jessica doesn't care enough to pay attention), and leaves. Jessica stays, nursing her growing headache with another shot.
Here's another way it starts. Luke Cage is in Jessica Jones's living room, nursing a disgusting concoction of egg yolk and some green liquid and ibuprofen for her. His gaze lingers on the bass in the corner a little too long and she already knows why he's here. She's going to kick him out, really she will. Just as soon as the pounding in her head wanes. She slumps over her sofa, gratefully accepting the ice pack he hands her.
“You probably know what I want to ask.” He says, leaning over with that repulsive potion in hand. “You know, Jess, next time I won't let you in. This really isn't healthy.”
She pinches her nose and down it goes. “I'll just go somewhere else.” She groans ruefully. If it were any other day, Malcolm would probably be here instead of Luke, but it’s Saturday. Malcolm has his support group meetings on Saturdays.
“So-” He begins.
“No.”
“Just one night.”
Jessica sighs. “Luke, I-”
“It’ll be like old times, but this time we’ll be the ones onstage. I’ve seen you play, I know you’ve seen me, but we’ve never done it together, have we?” Luke says. There’s a moment of hesitation. Luke grabs it and pulls. “There’ll be free drinks.” She hates him for knowing her well enough to know that’d work.
Jessica isn’t sure why Luke wants her to play so bad. He probably knows other musicians who’d be more eager and willing. Ones that he probably wouldn’t offer free drinks to convince. Still, he’s there asking her. So she agrees. She isn’t sure why. She wouldn’t consider herself weak to Luke’s pleading in any way. She tries to convince herself it’s for the drinks, but some part of her knows that isn’t it.
There she is somehow on a random Friday night a week later, scarf draped over half her face and her bass slung over her leather jacket. Luke’s even got a makeshift stage set up where some asshole in obnoxious dark red glasses is seated in one of those fold-up chairs, tuning a guitar.
Danny is there too, chatting amicably with a friend. He waves excitedly as he spots Jessica, which makes her want to hurl her drumstick at his head or bury herself in the ground, but instead she forces herself over with a less-than-friendly smile. His friend introduces herself as Colleen and immediately Jessica likes her more than she likes Danny until she remembers that this chick was in a band with this guy and they called themselves the Immortal Iron Fist. What a name.
Luke is all smiles and cheers upon seeing Jessica interact with people outside her immediate circle that basically consists of three people. It’s annoying. There’s a young woman named Claire who’s taking over for Luke tonight while he plays. She’s a music enthusiast and nursing student apparently, according to Luke.
“Recently graduated. I’m doing my residency program.” She corrects.
Claire knows the guy with the guitar, apparently his name is Matthew Murdock. Matthew looks like a hipster in that red flannel and those pretentious John Lennon glasses who learned guitar to serenade girls in college, but Jessica doesn’t say that to Claire. Judging by her tone, Claire actually seems to like Matthew.
One of Matthew's friends comes onstage to drag him off before the first show begins and Jessica suddenly recalls where she's seen him. He was one of the three patrons here last Saturday. He probably didn't notice her last time, judging by how he doesn't even glance twice her way as he approaches one of the chairs beside her and Luke. The friend, a pretty blonde lady who's still clinging to his arm (a girlfriend, maybe?), whispers something as he pulls out a stool. He runs his hands over it for a moment too long before sitting.
“Hey, Matt.” Claire grins. “When are you guys on?”
His face scrunches for a moment as he rubs his wrist. “In about thirty.”
“This is Jess. She's our bassist.” Luke says. Our…wait, our? Jessica glares at Luke. Hard. Neither Matt nor Danny seem to notice. “We’re playing Pink Floyd.”
Well, she knows this part at least. She’s been informed of that. She’d just assumed that it’d be her and Luke and instrumentals or something. She’s kind of pissed that Luke didn’t tell her she’d be playing with someone other than her, but she’s already got her first drink and she definitely hasn’t brought enough cash for anything but a taxi ride home so she’s trapped.
That asshole. He knew this would happen and still hooked her into this.
Some girl steps onto stage with a guitar first. Judging by the slight stagger in her steps, she’s probably more than a little drunk. The first three acts are awful. Danny tries to be nice at first. Jessica drops her face into the bar. Matt doesn’t bother. He’s very visibly wincing as he listens, not bothering to even turn and face the stage. By the time the fourth guy steps on and starts playing Wonderwall, Jessica is just about ready to throw him off the stage.
“Did you audit any of these people whatsoever?” Claire mutters.
“Nope. It’s an open mic night.” Luke winces.
Matt’s blonde girlfriend (that’s what Jessica has chosen to refer to her as until she has a name) has a notepad on her lap and is tapping her pen against the counter, somewhat agitated. Every so often, she turns and whispers something to him and sometimes the two of them snicker about it like teenage girls. Jessica can’t tell if they’re making fun of the people onstage or if it’s something else, but she wouldn’t be surprised either way.
Finally, it’s their turn. A scattered applause sounds as the guy steps offstage. He honestly wasn’t even that bad, but it was Wonderwall he’d chosen to play, so Jessica isn’t really that surprised at the less than enthused reaction. Danny claps loudly, but it’s Danny. He seems like the type of guy to be impressed by anything.
At least after that awful mess nobody will be too judgy when they completely mess up their rendition cover of The Great Gig in the Sky. Matt’s clingy girlfriend takes his arm as they make their way up the stage. She grabs a mic and places it in front of him as Matt unzips his guitar and fumbles for the amp wire. Jessica takes a moment to test her bass as Danny takes to the drums, spinning his drumsticks loosely with a well-practiced twirl.
The lights seem to almost dim as Luke begins. Jessica joins in a moment later. Then Danny. Then…holy shit. Jessica’s so mesmerised she almost forgets her beat. She’s never heard that solo coming out of a male voice before. She didn’t even know a man could be capable of such a range. Danny is grinning at Matt and Luke looks close to laughing and holy shit.
Matthew Murdock is a miracle, a gift from God himself upon her ears. The four of them sound amazing together. Danny does almost nothing for most of the song which he isn't really upset about, because at least he's here. It’s mostly Luke's keyboard and Matt’s divine voice, then a bit of guitar and bass.
This isn’t even Jessica's usual style of music. Pink Floyd’s stuff has always been too soft for her tastes, but she likes Comfortably Numb as much as the next person. The song dies out with a final note from Luke. Danny immediately races to Matt, engulfing him and Luke in a hug. Matt staggers away, clearly not seeing Danny coming. Luke grabs his arm as he threatens to stumble offstage, the two of them laughing.
An applause breaks out and with it, something loosens in Jessica’s chest. Holy shit, they were amazing. Holy shit, they’re better than amazing. Someone in the audience asks for another go, it’s the drunk girl from earlier. But they’re all out. They basically don’t have other songs. Jessica didn’t practice anything else and the knowledge that they can’t keep going fills her gut with something heavy. She slings her bass back into its case.
It’s over. That’s it. It’s over and they’ll never see each other again. She’ll still probably see Luke, but Danny will move on and Matt…well, she’s barely even spoken to the guy. His girlfriend is back, grinning widely and gushing. Jessica gets it, really she does. Matt is honestly ridiculously handsome and with a voice like that, well…damn. She’s impressed. She doesn’t like to think that she’s impressed easily but Murdock is clearly an impressive guy.
Danny is almost physically buzzing by the time they’re back. Matt’s other friend, the last third of their trio who she hadn’t seen around earlier, is clapping loudly. Matt and his girlfriend hurry toward him.
“Did you catch it?” Matt grins. Are all of Matt’s friends blond? That seems to be some kind of common theme. Matt smiles, a mix of pride and something akin to shyness. His girlfriend pulls out her notebook.
“Yes, dude, you were awesome! Your voice-”
“Foggy, please.” Is this guy’s name seriously Foggy?
“Too bad you guys aren’t a band or anything. Can’t really write about it if it’s a one-off.” She sighs.
“Karen is a journalist for a music magazine. She’s looking for up-and-coming artists to feature tonight.” Claire explains from behind the counter. “You guys were amazing, seriously.”
“Yeah, but we aren’t a band, so…not exactly up-and-coming if we don’t exist.” Luke sighs.
Danny picks up Colleen’s drink, “We could do it again sometime!”
Jessica shrugs. Luke gestures vaguely to the bar, as though to indicate that he has a business to run. Matt just tilts his head. He runs his hands over another stool before sitting.
“I don't know…” Matt hesitates finally.
“No, seriously. It works perfectly. I've been looking for people to be in my band, and you guys are all incredible.” Danny says.
Incredible is an overstatement. It wasn’t the type of song that showed off Jessica's potential or skill fully.
“Pink Floyd isn’t really my style.” Jessica says. “I mean, I'm mostly into shit like Twisted Sister, Bon Jovi, Joan Jett.”
When she was a teenager, Jessica had a band with Trish called Jewel until Dorothy found out. Jessica quit before Dorothy could even think to capitalize on it. They'd played a lot of Joan Jett & the Blackhearts and The Runaways. That stuff had been Jessica's shit as a teenager. She still listens to it sometimes.
“I can’t say I agree, but that’s good stuff.” Matt nods approvingly. The next act’s gone up, but nobody’s paying much attention.
“Nobody said we had to play Pink Floyd just because we played it once.” Danny argues.
“You could write your own music too.” Matt’s friend says enthusiastically. “I'm Foggy, by the way. Foggy Nelson.”
“Is that a stage name?” Luke frowns.
“No. My friends call me Foggy.” He says.
There's a beat. “And you let them?” Luke finally says.
Jessica cackles. Matt's mouth twitches slightly, assumingly exchanging a look with Foggy from under the glasses. Danny frowns in a kind of amused way, looking like he wants to say something, but Foggy takes it in good spirit, so he keeps his mouth shut. Claire hands Matt a drink. Matt touches the rim of the glass before bringing it to his lips.
He's got a lot of weird quirks, but he's a good enough musician that it doesn't really matter. Like those pretentious glasses.
“Making our own music, there's an idea.” Danny grins.
“Oh, Matt. Nearly forgot to mention. Found it. Caught you guys just in time.” Foggy grins, handing Matt something that Jessica can’t quite figure out. Is it some kind of instrument?
“Thanks.” Matt says, uncollapsing what now appears to be a cane. He reaches for the counter, arm stretched out in front of him, and taps the cane on the floor.
Is he- oh. Suddenly it makes a lot more sense. Claire directly handing him his glass. His clingy girlfriend holding his arm everywhere. His arms reaching out to touch the chairs. The glasses. Shit. Now Jessica feels like such an asshole.
“Holy shit, are you blind?” Danny practically shouts. At least she isn’t as bad as Danny.
Jessica wants to kick him under the table at the way Matt stiffens, his smile turning tight. His friends tense at his sides almost protectively, glancing at each other. Claire and Colleen exchange a look, Colleen gripping Danny's arm tightly. The tension is suddenly so thick Jessica could probably taste it. Luke shoots Jessica a look.
“Yeah.” Matt says forcefully. “Is there a problem?”
“What? No, no. That's really cool. I just didn't realize.” Danny says. “How did you learn?”
Matt shrugs vaguely. “My hearing's really good.”
“How good?” Danny challenges jokingly.
“I know your heartbeat just sped right now. I heard it.” Matt says, completely serious.
Danny stares at him. He…can’t be serious? Is he? That’s ridiculous, Jessica can’t believe she finds herself considering it for even a moment. A beat passes. Then Karen starts to laugh.
“Matt, stop, you’re freaking him out.” Karen giggles.
Matt chuckles, “I’m obviously joking, man. Danny, right?”
He sticks his hand out somewhere in front of Danny. Danny wipes his sweaty palm on his shirt and takes Matt’s hand. Matt is really cool and Danny can’t stop embarrassing himself and he wants to sink into a hole in the ground and never come back out. If he doesn’t shut up, he’s going to ruin the possibility of them ever becoming a band.
This is how it starts. Danny Rand is bored. He decides to play the drums with three strangers in a dive bar one night and he decides that they’re so good that he just might implode if they don’t actually end up becoming a band. So, Danny has a new goal now, a purpose of sorts. He has to convince Jessica and Luke and Matt to stick around.
Danny Rand is a lot of things: impulsive, loyal, naive, reckless, sort of bohemian and incredibly stubborn. He rarely does set his mind to things, but when he does, he’s effective at running his goal through. So, he takes Jessica and Matt’s numbers from Luke (forces it out of him, really, because he has a suspicion that Luke wants to do this just as much as he does) at the end of the night, and the moment he’s back in the dojo, the four of them are in a group chat.
Jessica feels like she’s a teenager again where being in a band is the coolest thing that could possibly happen to her. They like rock. She’s twenty five and she’s going to be in a rock band. Isn’t the age of all ages to join the industry? But there’s this nagging voice, the part of her that reminds her how it ended last time. It never really started last time though, did it?
She texts Luke, just about ready to give him a piece of her mind for giving her number to fucking Danny Rand, but she can’t bring herself to do it. She can’t bring herself to do much of anything but sit on her stupid couch, beer in hand, and contemplate. Would it really be so bad? She hasn’t really played with anyone in so long and she really did enjoy it. Besides, she might actually kill to hear Matt Murdock’s singing voice again.
Luke texts her first. Surprisingly, he doesn’t really want to do it. Despite herself, Jessica finds herself trying to convince him to give it a go. What is wrong with her? Didn’t she hate this? They land on a compromise.
Just a few weeks to appease Danny then they’ll drop him. Just a few weeks.
Matt Murdock isn’t quite sure how he ended up here. He’s a man of routine. He goes to work, to Josie’s on Fridays, church on Sundays, the gym every other night. He plays piano for the church when Father Lantom asks him to, volunteers on weekends, and guitar whenever he can. It isn’t like he’s scared of performing. Just about every other week, he somehow finds himself on a stage, guitar in hand.
It’s always led by a series of events featuring Karen Page wherein she needs his help scouting out a new music scene or one thing or another, his complaints (“I can’t help you scout, Karen, I’m blind.”) falling on deaf ears (“Stop bullshitting me, Murdock. You’re coming because you’re a good friend.”), and suddenly he’s being dragged to some hole in the middle of the city where he has to torture his ears for an hour listening to some amateur pluck painfully at strings.
So, this is how he ends up at Luke’s on a random Saturday. This time, it isn’t Karen working alone. No, Karen brings Claire and Foggy with her to convince Matt to play. Matt sort of knows Luke from a distance. He’s neighbors with Claire and Matt is actually friends with Claire. So, there he is, performing on a shabby little stage in Luke’s while Foggy hurries off to search the planet for Matt’s cane (because Matt forgot it in the taxi – “Stop forgetting your cane everywhere, Matt! How does this even happen- you’re always holding it!”).
Then there’s Danny Rand who’s a force of his own, and surprisingly Luke and Jessica are both agreeing to be part of Danny’s band, and Matt can’t be the one to say no and ruin this for everybody. Danny offers his friend’s dojo as a practice spot because apparently, there are a ton of spare rooms and amazing acoustics. It feels like a somewhat obscure place to meet, but certainly not the weirdest Matt’s been to.
Luke, who’s picking up Jessica to walk her there, offers to take Matt as well. He sort of expects Matt to refuse and is somewhat surprised when he doesn’t. Apparently, he lives two blocks down from Jessica which is awfully convenient. Luke knows they both live in Hell’s Kitchen, but he’d underestimated how close the two of them would actually be.
By the time he and Jess get to Matt’s, he’s already down on the street level, dressed in red leather, guitar case slung over his shoulder, cane in hand. Jessica half forgets that he’s blind and begins to walk past him, expecting him to catch up. Luke, ever more thoughtful than her, calls for Matt as they approach. His head tilts as he hears Luke’s voice, a smile twitching on his lips.
“Hey, man.” Jessica nods in his direction.
Matt’s glasses match his jacket and his auburn hair turns red when it catches the lights. Very different from the flannel he was wearing when they first met. He’s red on red on red and it honestly looks cool as hell. He greets them with a smile.
Almost naturally, as if they’ve done this a million times before, Luke nudges Matt’s shoulder with his elbow like Jessica’s seen Foggy and Karen do. Matt lightly takes a hold of his elbow as they walk through the crowded streets, cane tapping rhythmically ahead of him. There’s a sort of music in everything Matt does.
If he opens his ears enough, there’s a sort of music in the world that ebbs around him like a flowing river. It only comes naturally, he’s been trained to look out for it for years. He taps his cane to a beat (one – pause – two), the birds’ chirping weaving with the bustling city traffic is its own cacophonic symphony, the branches in the trees dance to the wind’s tune, it is truly everywhere.
Most of his world is sound, senses coming together to create an image of the world that his eyes are incapable of forming. It is his very own personalized orchestra of an existence.
With the three of them walking together, Jessica and Matt's instruments on their backs, it's very difficult to mistake what they are. It isn't like they're the only aspiring band in the city – far from it, but there's something that feels cool about walking through Manhattan with her bass that reminds Jessica of how it was before Kilgrave.
Chikara Dojo is somewhere in Chinatown, according to the location Danny had texted them a few nights ago. Matt hears it before Luke or Jessica see it. The smell of faint body odor, the grunts of what he assumes to be teenagers training inside, and something else he’d vaguely associated with Danny. It might be weed. He isn’t quite sure.
“Is that it?” Matt asks, pulling slightly at Luke’s elbow.
“Yeah, it is.” Luke says. “Come on.”
Danny is there, leaning on a wall behind rows of training kids and teenagers, scrolling lazily on his phone as he waits for them. In the hand that he isn't using for his phone, he’s absentmindedly tapping his drumstick on the wall. Colleen is standing by a young girl, correcting her form. She smiles as she spots them, nodding her head in Danny’s direction before turning back to her student.
Danny waves enthusiastically as his gaze lands on them, tucking his phone into his pocket and bounding over like an overexcited puppy. He’s practically vibrating off the walls, pointing to a room that appears to be ducked in the back.
“That’s where we’ll be- come on, I’ll show you.” Danny says. “Matt, do you wanna…” He holds his arm out, gesturing to it, before realizing he’s probably confusing the guy even more. “Do you want me to like…lead you? There’s a lot of people. You might trip or something.”
Matt’s breath hitches for a moment. Jessica thinks he might say no or walk out or something. It’s something she would do. Danny isn’t trying to be condescending on purpose. He’s trying to be helpful, but there’s something about that added, ‘you might trip,’ that rubs off the wrong sort of way. Matt just smiles awkwardly and nods, holding his arm out as if he’s doing Danny the bigger favor. He actually might be. Danny takes his arm and leads them towards the room in the back.
Danny closes the door as the others take stock of the room. He’s got a bunch of plastic mats set up on the floor which are probably a tripping hazard. He’s got an amp and Luke’s keyboard, a drum kit, and cables set up (Jessica couldn’t be bothered to haul all her equipment for this and told Danny to figure it out because he’s rich), and fold-up chairs set up for them.
“There are drums kind of in the middle of the room but more to the left because we've got chairs in the actual middle, then a keyboard and amps and stuff near the corners.” Danny narrates, presumably for Matt's benefit.
Matt nods, hand grazing the wall lightly as he feels out the room. He takes a lap before making his way towards the chairs. Jessica and Luke begin to set up their equipment slowly. Danny immediately takes to the drums, tapping out a beat. Matt unzips his guitar and connects it to the amp, strumming as he adjusts the settings.
He can hear Jessica begin to play along to his tune. Danny adjusts his beat to match their time as Luke joins in. Matt smiles as their instruments overlap into some half decent jam. He begins to hum. His voice is its own instrument, only serving to add harmony to their tune. There aren’t any lyrics to sing to, but Matt clearly doesn’t need any.
Jessica can’t help that stupid smirk on her face, glancing at Luke. He’s bopping his head along, clearly enjoying himself. They’re playing something that sounds like art rock to Jessica. Not exactly her usual style, but she’s not complaining. Literal music to her ears.
Danny and Luke’s instruments seem to fade into the atmosphere, leaving Jessica to perform a steady bass line that provides rhythm to Matt’s guitar. He’s clearly into it and drops the humming, hands sliding up and down the fretboard freely in a tune that crescendos into a solo. After about a minute, Danny accents it with a thick rising beat and Matt dims into the background of Danny’s cymbals and toms.
The four of them fall back into a jam and then finish with a final crash of Danny’s snares and note from Luke. Danny’s grinning and panting, eyes alight with fire behind them. Jessica finds that she’s smiling too as she recovers, ears still ringing. Matt turns to them, grinning.
Before he, or anyone else, can get a word in, Danny is already speaking, “We should write a song.”
“Slow down there.” Jessica snorts. “Maybe we need more than a single jam session to get that far?”
Matt spends the rest of the week thinking about it. He spends the ride home thinking about it. Writing a song. He hasn’t really done that in a long time. He probably could if he tried. He isn’t really sure what to write about. He brainstorms it frequently, recording various pieces and lyrics and deleting and scrapping and rewriting.
The four of them meet twice again over the following month. Matt doesn’t tell them about the song. The group chat is mostly empty except for Danny’s barrage of stickers and music videos, typically followed by a request to attempt to play it next time. The third time they meet is in April.
Matt loves the spring. Summer is too hot and rainy autumns and snowy winters are disorienting. Spring is light and lovely. He can feel everything so much better in the spring. There’s a light breeze travelling through the city, the sunlight tickles his skin, and the birds chirp merrily. The first break of dawning spring always makes him feel as though he’s stepping into a fantastical world floating on air.
It’s a cool day as he walks through the streets, guitar on his shoulder. The walk takes about an hour, but Matt enjoys walking in the spring. He hums a little tune as he picks up the familiar scent of Chinatown and begins to make his way towards the dojo. It’s a nice practice spot. Conveniently close enough to Hell’s Kitchen. The weather is nice enough that he doesn’t bother taking a taxi or the subway.
Karen and Foggy have been asking about the band. Matt’s mentioned it to them, that they’ve met up a few times but he doesn’t call it a band. They call it a band, Matt calls it a jam session. They’re barely a band, they don’t even have a name. They’re just four friends who meet up occasionally and play music.
He calls them his friends, but he honestly barely knows them. He knows Luke because Claire knows Luke but that’s about it. He likes Luke. He’s never hung out with Danny and Jessica outside of their meetups. He doesn’t really go to Luke’s or anything, which is where he assumes where Jessica gets most of her liquor. And he knows that she does get liquor frequently because she constantly smells like it.
Sure enough, there’s the sharp smell of whiskey greeting him as he walks into their practice room. Someone’s waving around what sounds like a large piece of paper or cardboard. Probably Danny. He hears a liquid sloshing and there’s Jessica. He moves towards the noise, cane extended ahead of him. Danny has a tendency of haphazardly leaving equipment around the room.
“What are we doing?” He wonders, setting down his guitar case.
“Oh, hey, Matt. Didn’t hear you coming.” Danny says. “There’s this club in Brooklyn, the Carter, they’re looking for musicians for Saturday in two weeks. I’m thinking of signing us up.”
“We don’t even have a name, Danny.” Jessica says pointedly. She sets down a can on an amp.
“I’m thinking of one. Any suggestions?” He says.
Jessica taps her finger on the can absentmindedly. Luke sighs, already regretting the question. “What have you thought of?”
“Heroes for Hire.” Danny says. Matt can hear the smile in his voice.
“That’s not bad-” Luke hums thoughtfully.
“No.” Jessica cuts him off sharply. “I’m not becoming part of a band called Heroes for Hire.”
Danny groans. Luke sighs, quick to mediate the incoming conflict, “Whatever. We don’t need a name now, we can figure it out later. Should we figure out a song first.”
Matt figures now is a good time to insert himself into the conversation, “I’ve been writing something.”
“Really?” Jessica says. She sounds curious, bordering even on eagerness which seems somewhat uncharacteristic from what Matt knows of her.
“Can you play it?” Luke asks.
He hums assent, reaching to pull out his guitar. And he begins. He's playing for nearly a minute before he begins to sing. Matt Murdock isn’t particularly one for meaningless lyrics. It sounds abstract and somewhat strange, but he knows what it means. He brings his world together in a melodic string of strumming and words.
There's a final beat, then he waits with baited breath for their reactions. He rubs his glasses with his sleeve. He hasn't quite reached the level of trust with any of these people where he feels comfortable enough to take his glasses off in front of them.
“So?” He says timidly.
Danny begins clapping enthusiastically after a moment.
“Shit, sorry. We were smiling, but you can't see that. That's good.” Jessica says at the same time.
“Really good.” Luke agrees.
“What's it about?” Jessica wonders.
“What's it called?” Danny asks simultaneously.
Matt fidgets with the strap of his guitar. “It's about…uh, how I see the world, I guess. I don't really have a name for it.” He hates how vulnerable it makes him feel all of a sudden.
“Impressionistic painting?” Lukes quotes one of the lyrics.
“Sure. I guess you have to think of it as more than just five senses. I can't see, not like everyone else, but I can feel. Things like balance and direction. Micro-changes in air density, vibrations, blankets of temperature variations. Mix all that with what I hear, subtle smells. All of the fragments form a sort of... impressionistic painting.” Matt explains.
The others are silent for a moment. “Woah. That's deep, man.” Danny finally says. He sounds like a stoner. He is a stoner. Jessica and Matt snicker. “We should totally play it at the Carter. We just have to add our own instruments.”
“It's kind of gritty.” Luke says. “I'll play something mostly on a minor pentatonic scale, I think.”
“I have no idea what that means.” Danny chirps cheerfully, bouncing into his chair. “I'll go kind of low?”
“Yes. Low and heavy. I'll back that.” Jessica agrees.
“It's kind of raw. We want to give it a stronger heartbeat, but keep the sort of raw sound. Kind of…grungy?” Matt hums. “I think we should give Danny and Jessica the room first.”
“You start us off.” Danny says.
“I think it'd sound better if it started with drums. I'll play again to give you a general idea of the sound, but you can do whatever you like with it after.” Matt strums, fingers gliding along the fretboard.
They spend the next few hours tweaking the song as the others add their instruments, working out the dynamics between the instruments, smoothing the flowing harmony, before fitting the lyrics back in with time.
The first time they play it after they've decided where and how everything goes, Colleen watches. It's got a very particular grunge noise built around Matt's riffs. He thinks about it, how the world he's built for himself feels. He thinks about how he's explained to Karen or Claire before (Foggy's never asked), and settles on ‘World on Fire’, as a title.
He practically skips home with Jessica and Luke after, feeling a million pounds lighter, like he's floating on air. The three of them descend into the subway, talking about nothing and everything in particular. Matt thinks Jessica might've even laughed once or twice.
There's a man playing a guitar on a bench. There's a dog by his side that barks at Matt's heels as he passes. A little girl is chattering excitedly to her father about her upcoming under-tens ballet show. A group of teenagers are heading to see a new action film that came out last Tuesday. It's springtime. New things, changes, come with spring.
Matt has a good feeling about this. It's going to be fine. Good, even. As soon as he's home, he realizes the missed calls from Foggy. Foggy's excited when he hears about it. Karen's excited too. She's going to the Carter next week for her paper (“I can't wait to hear you guys again- wait, it's your song? Holy shit, Matt, that's amazing!”).
By the time he's in bed, the familiar feeling of dread begins to crawl back up his throat as the high dies down. He hates himself for being so exposed with the others today, explaining how he sees the world, it feels like he's exposed them to some horrible weakness. It's not some secret. He's blind. It's the first thing most people see, the first thing people know about him, and sometimes the only. Everybody knows it.
But the others rarely bring it up. His eyes don't matter when he's up there, guitar in hand and voice in front of the mic. The only thing that matters is the music. Matt revels in it. It's a little bubble of a world where the rest of reality is at a standstill. Just him and the noise ebbing around him.
Matt isn't particularly afraid of being onstage, and he's even better at hiding it (he supposes part of that is because you can't be afraid of the reactions of an audience that you can't see), but performing his own song is different than a cover. He performs his own publicly. It's not like he's never done it before, but it's different now. He has this band and he isn't sure whether that makes it better or worse.
The band’s existed for nearly two months and they still don't have a name. Luke finds that he's grown strangely fond of Danny Rand of all people within those two months. He's already friends with Jessica and Matt's pretty cool, but Danny? Well, Luke's surprised that he actually doesn't totally hate Danny. The dude's kind of weird, sure, but he was raised by Chinese monks or something. He knows martial arts.
In the last two weeks, they've met and performed another four times, which is more than they had met in the span of a month. Danny’s started supplying their sessions with free beer he's got tossed in a mini fridge in the corner of the room (a new addition to their little studio), which seems to appease Jessica as well.
Claire's practically working fully part time at the bar now, which Luke is actually pretty happy with. There are certainly worse options and Claire's one hell of a badass. The only issue is that when they're performing at the Carter, he isn't sure who's going to watch the bar since Claire wants to come watch them.
That's a problem for future Luke Cage to figure out. Right now he has to figure out how to get Jessica, who's passed out on the counter, home. Luke knows Jessica’s history. He knows why she drinks so much. He knows why she hates being alone with men (Malcolm and the band – particularly Luke, who's been alone with her a dozen times before without any problems – seem to be, for whatever reason, the exception to that). He knows she gets nightmares. Touching her to wake her up seems like a bad idea. He isn’t quite sure what to do now.
Luke finally opts to do what he does every time he finds himself in this situation. He calls Trish. She arrives within the half hour. She sounds groggy and looks like she got dressed halfway through her nighttime routine. She’s not even wearing proper shoes.
“Hey, Hellcat.” Luke smiles tightly.
“Hey, Power Man.” Trish sighs. “Jess,” Trish shakes Jessica awake softly. Jessica groans, cursing under her breath. “Jess, come on. Let's go home.” Trish sighs, dipping her arm under Jess's as Jessica staggers out of her seat. She looks up at Luke. “Sorry.”
“When she wakes up, tell her I'm not letting her in next time.” Luke sighs.
This isn't healthy, it really isn't. But at least here, he can keep an eye on her. He'd rather she be blackout drunk here than in some stranger's bar. Really, he'd rather not have her blackout drunk at all, but with the current state of things that probably isn't an option.
Things are getting better though. They will get better. She'll be better soon enough. They have this band now. Jessica seems happier when she's with them. Luke knows he is. Music has always been one of the constants of his life. Harlem's history is rich with it. Even before Harlem, before New York, he remembers the choir at his father's church.
Danny's the one to pick up Luke on Saturday. He's got Bob Marley playing in the front of the truck and his drum kit stuffed in the back. Luke carries his keyboard down, placing it as carefully as possible in a position where it isn't slammed against Danny's drums or the truck when they hit a speed bump. Really, it's Colleen and Danny who pick up Luke. She's driving because Danny, as usual, smells like weed.
He looks like a bohemian. He's wearing those yoga pants and a baggy shirt that practically slips off his shoulders and a bunch of rings and necklaces that he probably thinks look cool. He does look almost kind of cool, like a male Janis Joplin. It must be a style thing. Luke had thrown on a half decent sweatshirt and jeans. He feels somewhat underdressed now.
He claims it helps him think. Luke doesn't particularly approve, but doesn't say anything at risk of being called an overbearing father by a guy five years younger. Or, probably five years. Luke isn't actually sure how old Danny is. Unlike Jessica, he doesn't enough to Google his friends.
They don't pick up Jess or Matt. Matt is probably heading with his friends and Jess is taking a taxi. She probably hates the idea of Danny knowing where she lives. Besides, it's a lot easier to carry a bass or guitar across New York City than it is to haul a keyboard or drum set.
This place isn't like his bar. They actually have a backstage, which is where Luke and Danny find Matt and Jessica, engrossed in a quiet conversation. Jess is dressed in her usual trademark scarf and leather jacket, but she looks different than usual. It takes Luke a moment to realize she's done some smoky eye makeup shit. It looks cool as hell actually.
“What are you looking at?” Jessica snarks.
“Nothing.” Luke says.
“Sound check in forty, then we're on within the hour.” Matt informs them.
He's doing this thing he does where he has his hand very lightly grazing the wall. Luke's noticed Matt's preference to stick nearer to walls, especially in new places. It probably makes it easier for him to figure out the space of a room and where he is like that.
“Everybody ready?” Danny asks. He receives hums and nods of assent in response.
“I'll see you guys later.” Colleen says, dipping to the front.
“You know this place is run by Peggy Carter?” Jessica informs them quietly once Colleen is gone.
“Who's Peggy Carter?” Danny wonders.
“A really big deal in the music scene. An old friend of Steve Rogers’. They were in a band together back in the day with a bunch of their other friends called the Howling Commandos, then Bucky Barnes, Rogers, and Carter left and made their own band and then Sam Wilson joined their band a couple of years later. Then Carter and Rogers left, but you know, they're still a big deal.” Matt explains. “Jess and I were just talking about it.”
“Oh, isn't Steve Rogers that one guy from the Avengers with Marvel Records?” Danny's face lights up with recognition.
“Yeah.” Luke confirms.
Marvel Records are a big deal. They're a really big fucking deal. They've been around for a very long time and were practically founded by Steve Rogers. Actually, they were founded by this guy called Nick Fury but Rogers and his second band, the Avengers, is what made them such a big deal. He's practically the face of the company.
Rogers’ and Carter's original band with Wilson and Barnes was extremely popular as well, but they were far too political and punk to be allowed on any start-up record company. Of course, Rogers can play whatever the hell he wants these days, but last Luke's heard, he lives in Brooklyn with Carter making art. Not really a stage guy anymore. He's not that old either, but successful and famous and rich enough to retire as early as he did.
Barnes still plays, but with a new band called the Thunderbolts. Apparently Wilson quit the scene after a huge fallout between them. Supposedly they're on better terms now, but Wilson still doesn't play anymore. This is all just stuff Luke knows because he's been invested in New York's music scene, but everybody and their mother on the planet has heard of the goddamned Avengers.
“What the hell? Do you think she's here now?” Luke asks, trying to keep his excitement from showing too much.
Jessica grins, “Well, according to Karen Page, she is. Not only that, but apparently she's scouting for Marvel Records tonight.”
Matt's face does a weird thing. He probably forgets that other people can see him. It's kind of endearing. “You talked to Karen about this?”
“Yeah. She's cool.” Jessica says nonchalantly.
“Oh, Christ.” Luke huffs.
Peggy Carter. Marvel Records. Here. Tonight. Watching them. Shit. If Luke thinks he's nervous, Matt looks just about ready to piss himself. They’re playing his song. Of course he's nervous. Luke’s worried for a moment that Matt might actually cry. It's difficult to tell with the glasses in the way.
“Danny,” Matt suddenly says, pressing and urgent as if he’s forgotten his guitar at home. “How did you sign us up?”
Danny gives him a look. “Uh…I called?”
“Yes, Danny, obviously. Under what name?” Matt asks.
Danny shoots a look at Jessica. His eyebrows wrinkle pathetically. He looks worse than Matt did a moment ago. “The…Defenders.”
Jessica looks like she might chokeslam him. “What?”
“What am I meant to do? You don't like anything! Everybody but you liked Heroes for Hire-”
“Because it sounds like the name of some Disney kids show!”
“The Defenders sounds cool!”
“What the fuck, Danny, you didn't even ask-”
“It's too late to change it now. It is what it is.” Luke says tightly, breaking the conflict smoothly. They have more pressing issues to deal with now.
“Maybe consult us next time. It isn't horrible, honestly.” Matt says. “We could always change it, Jess, it's just one show.”
When did Jessica become Jess? Jess doesn't throttle him for it, so it's fine, Luke supposes. Everybody's too tense. Except for Danny, of course. Fucking stoners. Heroes for Hire isn't even a bad name. It's a cool name. Like Power Man. Luke sighs deeply. He can't deal with this shit when they're going on within the hour now.
“Everybody good?” He checks. “Danny?” Danny shrugs, shooting Jess another look. He's fine. “Jess?” She has a similar reaction. They're both petulant children. They might as well start sticking their tongues out at each other. “Matt?” Matt nods tightly. “Matt, it's fine if you're nervous-”
“Don't- don't treat me like I’m glass right now. I hate that.” Matt hisses.
“I wasn't-” Luke winces.
“Don't talk to him like that!” Jessica snaps.
“Can you stop arguing with everybody over everything? What's your problem?” Danny groans.
“I wasn't talking to you. God, Danny, you're such a fucking kid.” Jessica snarls. The irony of her statement certainly isn't lost on Luke.
“He's right. We need to stop arguing.” Luke says.
Jessica glares, crossing her arms across her chest. Matt's head bows, fidgeting anxiously with his cane. Danny sits on the floor (what the fuck are you doing, Danny? Do you know how many people spit and throw up on this floor? That's disgusting, get up), legs bouncing impatiently.
Matt's nervous. He's been nervous since yesterday. There's the regular nerves of a show coming up, then the added anxiety of the knowledge that the people who usually played at the Carter tended to be professionals so they couldn't afford to mess up, then Jessica compiled it with the fact that freaking Peggy Carter was scouting, then of course, Danny and Jessica won't stop arguing.
Jessica and Luke can afford to mess up. Danny’s supposed to keep time, so he really can't, but he's so ridiculously good that Matt's absolutely confident he won't make any huge mistakes, which leaves Matt as the biggest threat to sabotage. Matthew Murdock, who wrote the song, who plays the main riff, who the song is about, is going to ruin his friends’ hopes at any careers in music at all if he doesn't get his shit together.
He feels bad for snapping at Luke now. He doesn't know why he did it. He isn’t typically the sort to snap, especially not at his friends. He mumbles an apology, which Luke quickly accepts. Matt smiles slightly. There's a crack in the ice cold tension. Danny does the same. Matt hears Jessica hum softly.
Matt breathes. They can do this. The remaining thirty minutes pass like the wind between Danny and Luke’s easy quips and friendly bantering between the four of them. It's easy and became well practiced somewhere between the second time Matt ever met these people and the time he began to call them his friends.
He's hung out with Jessica outside of practice before. They haven’t particularly gone out of their way to do it, but they live so close that they're practically neighbors. They're bound to see each other in the neighborhood more often than not. They both get their groceries at the same bodega and she frequents Josie's when she isn't at Luke's. That girl drinks way too much. She's probably drunk right now.
A couple of nights ago it somehow resulted in Matt walking her home. They hadn't really talked or anything, but Jess probably remembers it because she trusts him a bit more now. He knows Luke and Danny have been out together outside of practice too.
“Matt,” Danny says suddenly. “Are you wearing a suit?”
“Uh…yes.”
“Are you performing in that thing?” Luke frowns.
“Trust me, it's better than the red fetish leather.” Jessica smirks.
Matt's about to argue that it isn't red fetish leather, or a Halloween costume, or any of the hundred other things Jessica had called his first option of outfit, but he's interrupted by the sound of relatively hurried footsteps.
“Hey, I'm Micro.” A man introduces himself. “I'm your sound tech. Everybody ready?”
“Yep.” Matt affirms, tapping his cane out in front of him as the others stir out of their leaning spots.
He hears Micro do that thing people do when they realize he's blind, that sharp inhale, but the man doesn't make further comments so Matt doesn't either.
Danny hooks his arm around Matt's automatically and the two begin to follow Luke and Jessica up the stage. Danny warns him quietly that a set of stairs are coming up. There's the knowledge that they're on stage, but the crowd is muffled. There are probably curtains in the way. Shit, curtains? This is actually the real deal.
Matt collapses and tosses his cane near the closest wall absentmindedly, letting Danny guide him to center stage. It's still relatively early in the evening, giving them about an hour to soundcheck before the real crowd starts filling. Matt goes first, humming a noiseless melody to test the mic, testing out the chorus, then strumming a riff. He also decides he likes Micro, because the guy actually calls out to tell him when he's good, instead of just sending him a thumbs up and assuming Matt would know which happens more often than not with more than half of the sound engineers Matt's met.
The others shuffle through their checks relatively quicker. He has them play all together once, then sends them off back to the backstage hallway when they're all clear.
Danny's practically rattling Matt's ear off describing the stage and the hallway and the place in general, but Matt lets him because they both need to clear their nerves. Matt feels he's probably forgetting something, but he can't remember what.
Jessica’s glad Luke's here. She'd probably feel totally alone if he wasn't here. Not really, she supposes she has Matt. And even Danny to an extent. He's still her friend, even if he is really annoying. He's given her his drumsticks to play with as they wait. Danny's honestly a good guy.
They're on in ten. Then five. She's tapping out the beat of World on Fire on Luke's arm. This will be her make or break moment in the music industry. She misses it, the feeling of passion she'd had for this career all those years ago. She doesn't know how the hell Danny booked this, but somewhere out there tonight will be Peggy Carter. They're going to impress the hell out of her. They have to.
Matt grips Danny's elbow, letting him guide him back up the stage – where the hell is Matt’s cane? That's not important now. Jessica picks up her bass, shuffling next to Matt. Luke gives her a thumbs up from where he stands by the keyboard. She tosses Danny his sticks. He grabs them, grinning at her.
“Ready?” Micro calls out.
“As we could ever be.” Danny calls back. “Let’s go, team.”
There's a beat. “I'm not doing that.” Jessica says.
“Danny, nobody's doing that.” Luke deadpans.
“Doing what?” Matt asks, adjusting the strap of his guitar.
“You know the group fist bumps they do in movies and shit?” Luke says.
“Oh, yeah. Foggy and Karen and I do those sometimes.” Matt grins.
He holds his fist out. Danny practically flips over his drum set to thump Matt's fist, then races back. “See? This guy gets it.”
“Okay, okay, quiet.” Matt laughs lightly as he adjusts his mic.
Jessica takes a breath, eyes trained on Matt ahead of her. The curtains begin to open. The lights overhead are glowing orange, bouncing over Matt’s silky auburn hair, forming a halo of red over his head. He’s ridiculously handsome from this angle, but that won't matter in a moment when he opens his mouth and begins to gift them with his vocal cords.
The club’s lighting is a blend of blue and orange that works surprisingly well. Somewhere in the crowd, she can see Trish and Malcolm, gathered around a circle of their friends. Her heart swells. Danny's drumsticks tap behind her. Time. One. Two. Three. Four.
They open with a cover of Would by Alice In Chains. Whatever tension has been building in Jessica’s bones melts out as they play the final note. Without waiting, Danny immediately sets them off into their second song. By the time they're halfway through their cover of Bullet with Butterfly Wings, Jessica's practically leaping across the stage, high on the thrilling energy of it all.
She can feel Danny's beat, the heart of it all, throbbing through the ground below her heavy boots. Her own bass sends vibrating shivers running through her bones, accentuated by Matt's playing. His hands glide along the fretboard, mouth pressed so close to the mic he's practically kissing it, passion for the music coursing through the four’s shared stage experience.
They do five covers before their original song. Danny doesn't pick up immediately after, so Matt picks it as a good time to finally introduce the band.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” Matt announces, his stage presence all-encompassing and fully devouring their audience. “Behind me on drums, the exceptional Danny Rand, accompanied by the brilliant Luke Cage on keyboard, and the fantastic Jessica Jones on bass! And myself on guitar and vocals.” The way he announces himself isn't as glamorous as how he practically shouts his bandmates’ names.
“Matt Murdock, everybody!” Danny shouts enthusiastically.
“And we're the Defenders!” Jessica adds, throwing her head back. The crowd bursts into cheers. Luke catches her gaze, grinning widely.
Danny starts them off. The lights seem to dim, and Matt might really be on fire as he begins to play. They music flows through Luke's body as his fingers dance across the keys. He's grinning at Jessica and she's grinning back, swaying to their own harmony. The audience eats it up, cheering and clapping enthusiastically as the room bends to their will. Danny's shirt in the excitement has been tossed off and wrapped around his arm at some point, revealing a dragon tattoo sprawled across his chest.
They're halfway through the second chorus when something happens. Matt's voice cracks. It isn't one of those soft cracks that can be barrelled past. It's something that sounds prepubescent and so unlike him. Jessica expects Matt to falter. Luke does falter. Matt doesn’t.
Matt flips. Quite literally, somersaults in place, and then continues as if nothing happened, only taking a pause to adjust his glasses. Holy fucking shit. He tosses his suit jacket aside. Jessica bursts into incredulous laughter; she can’t help it. She can’t fucking believe this guy is real. A fucking blind guitarist gymnast with the voice of an angel in her lifetime. Holy shit. Danny cheers in the middle of his beat, probably forgetting he also isn't an audience member.
Danny and Jessica are still laughing when the song is over, staggering towards Matt, sweaty and starry-eyed.
“That was the Defenders’ original song, World On Fire! Thanks for listening!” Danny crows into the microphone, still giggling like a teenager as he throws his arm over Matt's shoulder.
“What the fuck, Murdock?” Luke grins, following closely.
“You're insane!” Danny hollers, wrapping his arms around Matt and Luke.
Matt laughs, wiping his face with his suit shirt, and Jessica catches a sneak peak of abs under it. Damn, Murdock. He grabs Danny's arm, the four of them still buzzing with excitement as they descend backstage. Luke practically has to wrangle Danny back into his shirt before they can go out and meet their friends.
“Are you some secret fucking Russian gymnast, Murdock?” Jessica laughs, taking sips of her water.
She tosses it in his direction, before suddenly remembering. Oops. Thank goodness for Danny. She can’t believe she's actually thanking Danny for something as he catches Jessica's bottle, handing it to Matt.
“Oh, it's nothing. Kind of a first instinct thing. I couldn't let her think that I'd messed up that bad.” Matt says, graciously accepting the bottle. “Thanks. Was she there?”
“Dunno. Wasn't paying attention to the crowd.” Jessica admits.
“I saw her.” Luke says nervously, arranging their cables. “And Rogers.”
Matt groans. His throat is still raw and somewhat scratchy. “Shit. I can't believe I messed up so bad. I'm so sorry. Shit.” He rubs his face with his palm, readjusting his glasses.
“Dude, you didn't mess up. That was so cool.” Danny reassures him.
Matt doesn’t look particularly reassured, but makes no further arguments, silently letting Danny guide him towards the table where their friends are gathered. The table erupts into cheers as the band approaches.
“The freakin’ Defenders, everybody!” Foggy grins, clapping Matt on the shoulder.
“You guys were insane. Holy shit, Matt.” Colleen smiles, handing Jessica and Danny drinks.
“Matt, that was amazing! Where's your cane?” Karen asks, approaching with a smile.
“Ah, that's what I was forgetting.” Matt laughs. “Lost it, I guess.”
The Defenders’ third show is at Josie's. The place is practically Matt's second home, so there's no anxiety when it comes to playing. Josie’s doesn't have a stage, much less a backstage or all of that fancy shit at the Carter. They set up a small corner of the bar where the pool table usually is (it's been removed for the night so that they have a place for their equipment), and play a couple of songs.
Josie actually pays them. Or, well, she closes Matt and Foggy's tab on their earnings. They drink swig (“Is that an…eel?” “Yeah, it's part of the charm!”), and spend the rest of the night conceptualizing a new song. Their jam sessions are a weekly occurrence now, every Saturday for a couple of hours.
They're the only times Jessica seems truly happy to Luke. So, when she walks in one evening, brows furrowed heavier than heavier and makeup smudged with exhaustion, Luke knows something is wrong. Maybe it's the way she carries herself smaller than usual or the hunch in her shoulders or the downward twitch of her lips that sparks Luke's suspicion. It's confirmed and reaffirmed after she misses her cue for the third time in the hour.
Luke's worried it's Kilgrave or something from their past that she really wouldn't want to discuss in front of these people, so he doesn't say anything. He reminds himself to ask her later. But it isn't Luke who asks first. It's Matt, after Jess messes up the fourth time. Danny huffs, but doesn't groan. He looks somewhat worried. Matt carefully lowers his guitar, looking at her. If Luke could see his eyes, he'd say Matt looks concerned.
“Jess, what's wrong?” He asks.
Jessica hesitates. She hates showing weakness. She hates that they know something is wrong. “Nothing. Danny, can you grab me a beer? I just need to-” She inhales deeply.
“No.” Matt says firmly. “Danny, don't move. Jessica, what's wrong?”
Damn you, Murdock.
“I'm being outpriced on rent. The stupid fucking landlord is raising the rent way too fast for me to keep up. Some stupid gentrification company bought the building and he wants everyone out. There's no way in hell I'm moving out of Hell's Kitchen.” She explains.
“What are you gonna do?” Danny frowns.
“I don't know.” She sighs. “It's not like this stupid band is making us any fucking money. I guess we either get more gigs or I quit and find a real job. Maybe finalize my PI licence.”
“You're training to be a PI?” Danny's eyes widen, as though that's the most interesting part of their conversation.
“Isn’t there anything you can do? Some kind of contract you can find that you can use to sue your landlord for raising it that fast? Shouldn't he give you some kind of warning first?” Matt asks, fidgeting
“Nope. I looked. I sure as hell can't afford a lawyer either way. The way it's going, I can barely afford rent.”
“You know, Foggy and I are training to be paralegals. Maybe we could have a look?” Matt sighs, uncollapsing his cane to fidget with the strap.
It's clear they've given up on music for now, so Jessica sits down on one of the speakers. Danny hands her a beer. “Maybe. Either way, at this rate, I have a week to be out. I have no idea where I'll go.”
“If you'd like-” Luke begins.
She pops the beer open, “I'd much rather stay in Hell's Kitchen, thanks.”
“Okay, well…” Matt sighs. “How about my place? I have a spare room.”
“Seriously?” Jessica frowns.
Matt laughs. An hour or so later, she ends up at Matt's loft, marveling at the stark bare interior. The wall isn't even finished in some spots and Jessica can see red brick and concrete peering through cheap paint. He's got a small amp tucked in the corner next to an empty guitar stand and a record player. It looks more like a studio apartment than someone's home.
The furniture is ugly as hell, but she supposes that probably doesn't matter to Matt. It’s practically half unfinished, and it’s ridiculously spacious. Matt’s bedroom has sliding doors and the whole place seems to open in on itself. It’s further accentuated by the massive windows on the front wall.
“So, you wanna tell me how a guy like you can afford a loft like this in New York City?” She snarks.
“You can't tell now, but there's a neon billboard across the street. Keeps most people up at night. Not me.” He explains.
He grabs two chairs from the table by the kitchen, gesturing for Jessica to sit in one. She does so. “Do you want tea? Coffee?”
“Sure. Coffee.”
Luke’s waiting downstairs for them. He’ll have to wait a little longer.
He begins to rummage around the drawers for the coffee. The whole thing is exceptionally tidy. Matt Murdock is a man of routine. She’s probably going to ruin all that if she comes to live here. He begins to fill the kettle, sniffs a coffee packet and tears it open, dropping the powder into an empty mug.
“So, who bought your apartment?”
“Oh, you were serious about that?” She asks. Matt nods, grabbing a tablespoon from one of the drawers. He’s way too nice. It’s unnerving. “Uh, some company called Union Allied Construction. I’m still looking into it.”
Matt pokes the mug with a spoon as he pours the hot water. “They can’t just kick people out of their homes like that.” He swipes a hand across the table before setting the coffee down.
Jessica sighs, “You’re telling me, man.” She takes a sip. It’s disgustingly bitter. “I’m helping out with rent if I move here. I’m not going to be your charity case, Murdock.”
Matt looks like he’s almost considering arguing, but relents with a small nod. He feels for a chair and sits facing her, taking small sips from his own coffee. He shrugs finally with a small smile, “I really don’t mind. I’m Catholic, I have a soft spot for hopeless cases.” He must sense Jessica’s glare or something, because a moment later his smile widens slightly. “That was a bad joke, sorry.”
Danny wants them to make an Instagram page. He’s thrilled when he discovers that @defenders_band isn’t already taken. Danny also wants them to make a music video. The idea is shut down across various parties (Jessica and Matt) before it even begins. They don’t make a music video. They do, however, record World On Fire for Danny to upload. Danny makes social media accounts for Jessica, Matt, and Luke as well (“Jesus, he’s like a Victorian child who discovered the internet for the first time yesterday.” “That’s pretty accurate to the truth. Wasn’t he raised by monks or something?”).
So, they make an Instagram page. Danny also wants to make a TikTok page. And Twitter. And- (“No, Danny, enough.”). They do all three. Jessica’s tempted to bring a water spray to squirt in his face the next time he makes a suggestion. She thinks it'd be funny. Luke says they shouldn't treat Danny like a housecat that needs training. Matt agrees with Luke.
She moves in with Matt. He's nice and doesn't bother her. Mostly, he sticks to himself and leaves her to her own business. He goes to work in the day and church on Sundays and Josie's on Fridays. He doesn't mind when she has Luke or Trish or Malcolm over. Sometimes, no, often he brings women over which she finds somewhat surprising because she never pegged him as a player or anything like that. She isn't really surprised though.
He’s young and attractive. He's got one hell of an apartment. He has that whole – what had Foggy called it? – wounded puppy thing going for him. He's a guitarist in a rock band for goodness sake. Jessica objectively understands how he manages to allure so many women, but as it stands he certainly isn’t her type.
She’s on the couch, lazily strumming her bass as she tries to come up with something new because they need more than just one song, when one of these women walks out. They make eye contact for a few moments. It’s incredibly awkward. The other thing about Matt. He never actually dates any of the women he brings over. He’s more of a ‘fuck and flee’ type guy. Still, ridiculously nice despite it all.
Matt walks out after her, half dressed, offering to walk her home. Sure, Murdock, walk the girl home half naked. The girl for her credit doesn't laugh in his face, which is exactly what Jessica would've done. She leans up to his lips, kisses him one last time, and claims she’s already called an Uber. Then she’s gone, probably never to be seen again, as with most of the women she’s seen.
“An Uber?” Jessica asks a good five seconds after the door’s shut.
“She’s from out of state. Florida or something, I think.” He shrugs, padding towards the fridge to take out a beer.
“She was hot.” Jessica informs him helpfully. Matt hums. He hands her a beer, sitting down on the other side of the couch. “What was her name?” Matt's silent for a few moments, then inhales sharply. Jessica laughs. “You know she's from Florida but not her name? Jesus, Murdock, you're one of a kind.”
“So I've been told.” Matt smiles faintly. “What are you working on?”
“I don't know. Just…playing and seeing if something comes of it.” Jessica shrugs. She plays a G major.
Matt sighs, taking a sip of his beer. “Alright. I'll go shower and grab my guitar. We can jam if you want.”
He does exactly that, returning twenty minutes later in an old band tee and pajama pants. He sits on the sofa, cross legged, and plays a couple of chords that compliment her well. He isn’t wearing his glasses and looks oddly vulnerable without them, gazeless eyes wandering for a sight they’ll never meet.
She isn't sure if Luke or Danny have seen Matt without his glasses before. They probably haven't. She didn't see them for a while after she’d moved in. It wasn’t like Jessica wasn't curious. She was, she is, a naturally curious woman. Probably more so than the average person. The first time she ever saw his eyes was around nearly two weeks after she'd moved in.
During that first week, they'd barely interacted except to help Jessica move her things. That'd lasted a day because Jessica really didn't have much to move. They weren't particularly comfortable around each other yet. She wasn’t really sure what’d happened the night before, but she’d probably been drunk. She’d freaked out when she’d woken up and found herself on Matt’s sofa, a sight still not familiar to her. For a horrible moment, she’d assumed the worst. Kilgrave, or maybe-
But then there was the sizzle of a frying pan. The aroma of warmth and something that sent her stomach rumbling and her head crashing back down on earth out of panic. She remembered her street names. She looked up. Matthew Murdock stood in the kitchen, chopping vegetables. She’d been louder than she thought, because he suddenly tilted his head in her direction. Then she remembered why she was here.
“Jessica?” He called out. “Are you alright?”
The words weren’t coming out properly. Her brain hadn’t quite caught up with the rest of her yet, and a disgruntled slur of assent tumbled from her lips as she attempted to stand. Her head pounded, blood rushing in her ears. She expected the world to swim as she stood, but it didn’t. It seemed to sink.
She wasn’t drunk, she was hungover. “‘M fine.”
“Okay. Good. Luke and your friend…uh, Trish. The woman with the music podcast. They brought you here last night.” He said, almost hesitantly. Jessica shuffled towards the sink. “You…should probably stop drinking so much. It isn’t good for you.”
Jessica snorted. She splashed her face in the sink. Matt had one mirror he kept for guest purposes in the bathroom. He kept it clean, even though he obviously didn’t use it. He’s nice like that. Jess was glad there weren’t any mirrors out here. She really didn’t want to see what she looked like. “No shit. I’m not like…an alcoholic.”
“Uh, debatable.” Matt said, an uncomfortable smile ghosting his features, like he wasn't really sure if it was his place to argue. “I know it isn’t really my business, but if you need help-” It wasn't his place to argue, Jessica decided.
“My parents died when I was fourteen.” She interrupted abruptly, regretting the words as soon as they left her mouth. “And my brother.” She kept going, cursing herself. “Everyone but me. Me and my brother were arguing over…I don’t remember what it is now.” She lied. She glanced at Matt. If he knew what the argument was really about, he'd probably never look at her the same. Her entire family dead over a stupid game. He was silent, head tilted slightly, still chopping vegetables. Expression unreadable. “My dad turned around to tell us to stop and we crashed into a truck.”
Matt hummed quietly, not pausing for a moment, but moving slower now. “Hm. A truck blinded me.”
Jessica had been trying to think of a response when the sight of him removing his glasses distracted her suddenly. His eyes rolled up for a moment before fluttering back into a point in the vague distance. Jessica hadn’t been sure what to expect. She’d almost expected them to be ugly or something, but they weren’t.
They were perfectly average. Beautiful, even. They were a sort of milky brown rimmed with hazy blue, catching on the light from the billboard outside. Aside from the unfocused glassy haze, she probably wouldn’t have been able to tell he was blind if she didn’t already know. He could probably tell she was staring.
“That…sucks.” Was what she finally settled on. The sink was still running. Shit.
“Yeah, uh…I’m sorry for your loss. My dad died a year after that, and I never knew my mom, so…I grew up in a Catholic orphanage.” He said.
Jessica’s eyebrows shot up, “You’re kidding. Do those still exist? That sounds like some shit from sixties."
“Yep. They wanted us to get out to foster care, but nobody really wanted to take teenagers, especially not blind ones, so…orphanage it was. It’s where I learned the piano and how to sing.” He explained.
“How about the gymnastics? You learn it there?” She wondered.
“No.” He said, and didn’t elaborate.
She could tell he was holding back something about the foster care bit, but it wasn’t her business. Just like Dorothy wasn’t his. Then, “Trish isn’t- she’s more like my sister. Her mom adopted me.” She didn’t elaborate. Trish’s past, Dorothy, it wasn’t solely hers to give. Kilgrave wasn’t his business either. “So, orphan solidarity or something.” Matt chuckled. “We should let Danny in on that.”
“How about a new band name if you hate the Defenders so much? Luke Cage and the-" Matt suggested, already laughing at his own shitty joke.
“Please stop right there. If this hangover doesn’t kill me, your stupid jokes might. You aren’t funny, Murdock.”
“Oh, please, Miss Jones, some sympathy. Could you grab the salt while you’re at it? And peel some potatoes if you want dinner.”
Jessica has one of Danny’s drumsticks. She isn’t quite sure how she has it, but there it is, in the bag at her feet. She probably took it last time by accident. He always lets her play with them. He's meditating when she walks in to return them. Or rather, Luke, Jessica, and Matt walk in because it's time for practice. Returning them is just a benefit.
There he is. Cross-legged in the middle of the room in front of his drums, loose vest exposing his chest, eyes closed peacefully. He's almost entirely still. He could be asleep. It's a very real possibility. Jessica’s half tempted to go poke him with a drumstick and see whether or not he's asleep. His eyes flutter open after a good minute or two of the others just standing there, waiting.
Not asleep. Just meditating. There's incense coming from somewhere, giving their whole room a sort of foggy, warm feel. At least it smells nice, if not a little strong. Matt exhales deeply, nose wrinkling slightly, but it isn't an unpleasant expression. Danny's slow to stand, smiling faintly as they walk in.
“Meditation?” Luke hums quietly. It feels wrong to disturb the silence here.
Danny nods, “Good for the soul. I learned to meditate when I was in K'un-Lun.”
“Figures. Monks, right?” Jessica says. She holds up his drumstick.
“You can keep it. I have spares.” He waves her off. “I'm getting us a new gig. It's at a music festival. According to Colleen, it's a pretty popular one in Brooklyn that happens annually, but we just have to audition.”
“Annual music festival in Brooklyn…that wouldn't be called Rebirth, would it?” Matt hums absentmindedly.
Jessica freezes up. No fucking way. Danny nods, “Yeah, it is, actually. Is that important or something?”
No. Fucking. Way. She whirls to look at Luke, who looks just as dazed. Holy shit. They're auditioning for Rebirth. Jessica sucks a breath, “Danny. When are auditions?”
“We have three weeks to submit online. They said so at the Cart…oh.” Danny says. “Related to the Avengers by any chance?”
“It was their debut. Danny, it's the biggest music festival in New York. Lasts a couple of days. It's pretty damn impressive to say you performed at fucking Rebirth.” Jessica informs him, grabbing a beer from the fridge.
“We already performed our one song for Steve Rogers and Peggy Carter. We have to figure out something else.” Luke says.
Matt grins, devilish, tilting his head in Jessica's way. Jessica smirks right back. He has a good sense of detecting that stuff. “Matt and I have been working on a little something.”