Tumgik
#I'm in lawyer hell rn and this has been in my head for days
yelenabelovq · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
iii. the hatred of a minute | m.m.
series masterlist
summary: long nights begin being crowded by things you don't want to see materialize, after your legal battle runs its course. the question stands: can you fight your way out of this one? or will you finally fall?
playlist: permit the righteous to be moved | m.m.
word count: 3.6k
rating: 18+, swf, canon typical violence with a slight trigger warning for assault/SA (latter only mentioned in a medical sense), slight she-hulk spoilers
a/n: (playlist starts after if i'm being honest) this quote comes from an edgar allen poe passage, "years of love have been forgot, in the hatred of a minute." hello all! i know it's been like nine months since my last chapter and honestly i shouldn't promise any more consistent updates lmfao. i've moved twice (once cross country) since my past chapter and i'm moving out of state again in like two weeks. so life has been unreasonably crazy lately, but i watched she-hulk and when she said the accords were revoked i was like are you fr rn bc so much of this fic's plot was in fact based around the accords but also i hadn't been writing bc i didn't know what i wanted to so with it so honestly that little tweak in canon made me wanna overhaul the plot and start writing again so here i am!! this is still the bare bones of where i had planned on going with the series but with some changes so that i'll actually be invested in writing it lol and i hope y'all will be invested in reading it!! also shout out to the three people in my notes who reblogged the first two chapters like two days ago that finally made me start writing, yall are awesome. this is for u. (and she-hulk) (oh yeah also matt in she-hulk!! sexy af)
March 2024
Matt could smell your hangover.
Every inch of you was drenched in sweat and vodka and sick. You stumbled into the office of Nelson, Murdock, and Page a little after eleven, half reeling, and rendering Matt more than a little concerned. Foggy met you as you made it in the door, helping you to the small couch next to his desk.
“What the hell happened to you?” Foggy asked, tossing Matt a water bottle to hand to you.
“Have you seen, like, literally any public media source?”
Matt hummed, leaning against the desk across from you. “I did. Imagined you’d take it about this well, too.”
“Thought you couldn’t see, Murdock.”
Matt chuckled. “Good to know your humor’s still in tact.” He unscrewed the bottle an handed it to you. You took it, taking a long sip, then pressing your head to the back of the couch.
“How does, like, the law work?” you asked. “Can I sue? I wanna sue, or something. Get that asshole to put his shield down.”
Foggy laughed sympathetically, walking around to take a seat. He’d told Matt you would be coming in today only about an hour ago, detailing the phone call he’d had with Bucky Barnes. Apparently he’d fished around your purse until he found Foggy’s business card and called, asking if you could come in. Neither of them knew what the topic of your visit was, but after last night’s news spectacle, it wasn’t hard to guess. 
“That’s not how the law works, unfortunately,” Matt answered you. “Also, we’re defense lawyers.”
“Okay, and?”
“We don’t sue people.”
“We protect the people getting sued,” Foggy supplied.
“Assholes,” you mumbled, eyes sliding shut.
“So, what, did you raid a liquor store last night?” he asked, voice dancing with the odd mix of sympathy and humor.
“Tried to outdrink Bucky.”
“How well did that go?”
“Can’t remember a single thing after four p.m., but at least my hangover hurts worse than the news blasts I keep getting on my phone do.”
“You can turn those off, you know,” supplied Foggy helpfully.
“Fuck off, Nelson.” Matt laughed, suddenly acutely aware of the rip in your jeans where your skin poked through unhindered. You were crowding his senses for some reason. He pushed off the desk, walking around just to give himself something to do. He noted what was happening outside the window. Someone was walking a dog, a couple was arguing, a few honks from taxi drivers, the smell of you underneath all the liquor—
Knock it off, he thought. 
He paced back around to the opposite side of the desk, balancing himself on the edge. Your voice coated his thoughts as he tried to focus on what you and Foggy were saying. 
Foggy was explaining something about the legality of the Accords to you that Matt was struggling to catch on to. You swore at whatever he said. Matt let the conversation float over him as his senses crept out to the warmth of your skin and the softness of your voice and whatever shampoo you used that made you smell so good. He dug his nails into the wood of the desk below him, something solid to keep him from drifting into whatever made him like you so much. He knew he couldn’t, knew he shouldn’t, after the alarms went off in his mind the last time he walked you home and you’d leaned into his touch just a little too much. That bit of intimacy you’d offered him, the trust you were putting in him was misguided, unearned, and dangerous. Not with who he was. Not with who you were. 
So he denied himself, as any good Catholic would. 
He was brought back into reality when Foggy directed something at him. 
“What?” he stuttered, willing his brain to come up with something a little bit better. 
“Still with us?” Foggy laughed. 
You remarked, “I thought I was the one who was wrecked,” and he clenched his jaw. 
“My mind wandered.” He took a slow, deep breath. 
He couldn’t ignore the soft laugh you gave, or the way your pulse picked up with awareness under his focus. He could tell Foggy knew he was full of shit. "What did you say?"
"Do you think you could handle a neighborly visit?" Foggy asked.
Matt had no idea what he was talking about.
Thankfully, Foggy saved him the embarrassment of having to ask. "I'm going to do the best I can to figure out how to get around this once Bucky Barnes gets in contact with Sam Wilson. I think you should pay a visit to Mr. Walker."
Matt huffed and shifted from foot to foot. "Um, why?"
"Trying to prevent a murder," he answered dryly, then pointed a finger at you. "You are not to make contact with Walker. At all. I don't care. Relay that message to Bucky as well."
You sighed and rolled your eyes, letting your head lull back onto the couch. Your hair fell away from your neck, exposing more of your skin to the air. No more deep breaths.
"I think it can be arranged," Matt said.
He felt you tense, like you were making to get up, but you didn't move. Matt rounded the desk again, offering his arm to you. "Let's get you home."
You took it, letting him half-haul you up off the couch and into a standing position. Your skin was so soft. "Coffee?" he asked.
"You buying?"
He smirked at you, then turned his attention to Foggy. "Send any updated you find?'
Matt could tell Foggy was giving him a look that he was hoping you weren't picking up on, powers or not. You let yourself be escorted out the door, down the stairs, and out of the building, the entire time not letting go of Matt's arm.
Tumblr media
New York liked to pretend to have spring. There was snow on the ground, and the temperature was barely breaking 65, in a way that let non-locals believe there might be some warmer weather up ahead. He knew better, though. He knew New York would stay icy for a long while longer.
He walked along the streets covered with melting snow, dodging tourists and kids checking out colleges on spring break. No one paid him a second thought. People were too busy thinking about themselves. Everyone is always only ever thinking about themselves.
Even when there was so much hurt in the world. So much that needed to be fixed and yet everyone chooses to think only about themselves. Everyone chooses to ignore the help they could give others and instead make it about them. So selfish, he thought. But he wasn't selfish. He thought about other people. He thought about the betterment of other people. Of a community.
That's why it took him so long to pick the perfect person. He didn't want to call her a victim. A pretty blonde in a pinstripe suit. She had just hung up the phone. Perfect, he thought. She wasn't a victim, no. Even as she thrashed and kicked as he came down hard with a hand over her mouth and dragged her into the alleyway just to his right. She wasn't a victim, she was the beginning to the betterment of a community. Of the world.
He pushed the needle into her skin, letting the dosage sink into the muscle of her arm. He'd had to tear her pretty blazer. He was sure she'd be fine with it if she knew. If she knew she was the beginning to a better community.
She lost her fight as the dose made its way through her system, slowly slumping in his arms as he lowered her to the ground, and he left her there to wake up later, making his way back into the sidewalk as if nothing had happened.
Tumblr media
"Are you sure they're going to let you in in your condition?"
You laughed, still clinging to Matt's arm as you both made your way to the hospital. He'd insisted on ensuring you made it there safely, despite your protests. It's either this or the rooftops, he's said. He'd bought you coffee. You figured you could start your shift off on the right foot.
"They don't care what state I'm in as long as I can change a bedpan and start and IV," you remarked.
Mat laughed, and you liked the sound. "Let me know if you ever want to unionize."
"We're med students, Matt, I'm not even a real employee."
"That... sounds like it should break some labor laws."
You screwed up your face. "Gotta learn somehow. There could be worse ways. Than legalized slavery."
"Oh no," Matt said around another one of those pretty laughs. God. Go back to when you hated him, you thought. It was so much easier than thinking he was beautiful. And God, was he.
"I'll be fine," you stated, trying (and failing) to stop staring at him in the glistening springtime air. "Couple more cups of coffee and I'll be human-shaped again. Or, med student-shaped. How about you go out there and make sure we don't get any stabbings or GSWs? I want a quiet night."
"I'll try my best," he said, releasing your arm so he could slide his hand up and down it. What a gentleman, warming you up. So polite.
You stood there in silence, trying to come up with something to say maybe to extend the moment, or maybe a dig to make it not as incredibly obvious as it felt that you really enjoyed his company. Before you got the chance, a scrub-clad energy ball launched at you.
"You gotta come in here, we got a chick with some weird-ass symptoms, right up your alley. Come do your funky thing." He shivered. "God, it is freezing out here."
"Derek, no, that's not how this works and you know it." You sighed, closing your eyes, and digging your phone, which had begun ringing, out of your coat pocket.
"It is now," Derek said, smiling like he was sharing an inside joke with you. His smile faltered when he realized you were entirely lost. "You didn't see? I thought you would be jumpin' for joy."
"See what, Perez?" you asked, funneling every inch of exasperation into the question.
"The Accords got revoked. You get to be super doc."
"What?" you and Matt snapped in unison.
You looked down at your phone to see Foggy calling and thrust the phone up to your ear.
"Is it true?" you demanded at the same time Foggy said, "I have the best news ever!"
You heard him laugh on the other end of the line. "No more collar or leash for you, baby! The Accords were just revoked for American citizens!"
"Is he serious?" Matt asked you in a low voice.
You felt like you were going to pass out.
"I knew this had been in the works in congress but I didn't want to get my hopes up, but it's happening, baby!" Foggy was going on.
"What?" you snapped.
"Effective immediately, you are no longer required to sign the Accords. No leash, no monitoring. Go have fun."
"I would definitely still check with your higher-ups before using your abilities at work," Matt supplied.
"Is that Matt? Matt, you asshole, I've been calling you for like 10 minutes!"
"Dude," Derek said, "you've gotta come see this girl."
You were frozen in place, frozen with shock until you felt Matt's hand come to rest on the small of your back. You took a shuddering breath. "So, I'm free?"
"You're free," Foggy said gently.
You hung up the phone without saying goodbye, and turned to Matt. "I should get in there." Patients first, feelings later.
"Have a good evening," Matt said, his hand falling from your back. "Text me when you get home.
You knew damn well he would know when you got home without you texting him. But you didn't say anything. Instead, you turned back to Derek as he walked away and you forced yourself not to let your gaze follow him.
"Do I have time to get scrubs?"
"This chick is wild, okay," Derek began, ignoring your question. "I'd just gotten in when she came in. Flu-like symptoms, so the docs put her on me, right? Turns out, she was assaulted walking to work. All shaken up. I went to go get the kit, but she kept refusing, thought she'd probably feel safer with a female doc. So I offered up one of the interns, but she refused again. Said she was conscious for the entire attack, and all that happened was this guy stuck a needle in her arm and left her on the ground." He kept talking as you rounded the corner into the locker room. "Scumbag, right? I wasn't sure I believed her, but she let me do a physical exam and the only signs of struggle were on her face and neck. And her arm, where the needle went in. So she's telling the truth. And here's the catch. Tox screen is nuts."
You shrugged on your white coat. "How so?"
"Lit up like a Christmas tree," Derek said, shaking his head. "Amphetamine, opiates, benzos, tylenol, you name it."
You raised your brow at him. "Wow."
"And get this, she's bleeding from every line we give her. I tried to put in an IV, blew the vein."
"You're bad at IV's."
"Not that bad," he said indignantly. "But even Mar tried, and the line started bleeding. Mar! Best nurse in this place botched an IV. Doc Cohen tried to put in a central line, more bleeding. Her pressure was skyrocketing every time we tried too."
"That would sense," you said following him further into the ER. "Eight million drugs in someone's system ought to thin the blood."
"Yeah but we get at least a central line on druggies. Besides, she doesn't have any past drug use history. Her lines are clean, man." He led you to a private room towards the back of the ER. You pushed open the door with a sigh.
There was a young girl on the bed, two bloody bandages around her arms and a bandage across her chest. She was pretty, twenty-something with her blonde hair falling out of a ponytail at the back of her head. There was what looked like a designer bag and pinstripe pants discarded in the corner, the matching jacket in an evidence bag.
"Hannah Edwards, this is one of my colleagues, she's gonna do a much better job of figuring this out than we are," Derek supplied as you walked farther into the room.
You introduced yourself with as much smile as you could muster, sitting down next to the bed. "Don't sell her lies, Dr. Perez, please. How are you feeling?"
"Like a human pin cushion with a nasty flu," Hannah said with a weak smile.
"Can you tell me when you started getting the flu symptoms?" you asked.
"Like, fifteen minutes after the guy got me. I laid on the floor, not able to move for like ten minutes. When I got up, I started to go home, but I got, like, super dizzy and feverish five minutes later, so I came here instead."
"You were paralyzed?" you asked.
"I guess?" Hannah shrugged. "I got really groggy for a while and then when I tried to move, everything felt super heavy. It took me, like, ten minutes, like I said, to get up and move. Then I felt all dizzy and came here."
"Good thing," you said. You let your ability reach out ever so slightly, creeping out to touch whatever weird sickness surrounded her.
You jumped back.
"What, what is it?" Hannah asked.
"Dr. Perez, could I see that tox screen please?"
Derek handed you the paper. "Told you, there's almost so much on there that it's unusable."
"She shouldn't be upright with all of this in her system. Have you had any vomiting, Hannah?" You read the tox report again and again, begging the number to make sense but--Hannah Edwards should be dead right now if this were true.
"Just a little nausea," Hannah answered.
"Temp's been bouncing between 100 and 102," Derek said from behind you. "That's the third tox I ran. Same result every time."
You stood up, turning to meet his eye. "Let's get this shit out of her system, please."
You walked out of the room, almost slamming face-first into your resident as the door shut behind you.
"Did you do your thing?" Dr. Cohen asked.
"I, uh--"
"She started to, but something weird happened, huh?" Derek supplied. He'd seen you break the rules with your mutation once or twice or enough to tell when you did.
"It was weird. Like her sick pushed against me. She has so much in her system she should be dead or close to it, but there's something to keep her standing," you told them.
"Which is?" Cohen asked.
"I... don't know."
"Okay, so go find out." Cohen flashed her brown eyes between you and Hannah.
You sighed and shook your head before shutting your eyes and willing the hustle and bustle of the ER to go quiet for just a moment. You let your ability reach out once again, tendrils of invisible power creeping toward Hannah in her bed. You let it lace through every drug in her system, finding familiar things like acetaminophen and penicillin, the odd things like an antidepressant, and the less familiar things you were assuming were things like cocaine and meth, until you found... nothing.
"There's nothing there."
Derek and Cohen stared at you.
"What?" Derek asked.
"All that must be a front. She just has the flu." You looked between the puzzled expression the two shared.
"A flu that came on in less than fifteen minutes," Cohen supplied.
"I'm not saying that's all it is, or all that's gonna develop." You shoved the chart back into Derek's hands. "You should admit her for observation. I need a cup of coffee."
Tumblr media
Your phone rang again hours later and as it flashed on the table of the breakroom, you found yourself hesitant to answer.
"Hi, Matt," you said as you brought the phone up to your ear.
"Good evening," he said, his voice silky and husky and you wanted to hang up.
"Hi."
"Are you walking home tonight?"
"Alone," you said. Not the smartest idea, all things considered, but you knew when someone was going to sneak up on you. You were an Avenger for fuck's sake. You could walk home alone tonight.
His voice dropped imperceptibly lower. "What happened?"
"Nothing," you said, carefully keeping emotion out of your voice. "Busy night. And, plus, I don't really need a lawyer anymore, since the Accords were revoked. So."
Matt laughed dryly, and you felt like you could imagine his face on the other end of the phone. He sighed. "You know I can hear your heartbeat through the phone, right?"
"You're so full of shit."
"You're lying to me. Why are you blowing me off?"
"Cause I'm a big girl, Murdock!" You dragged a hand over your face. Attachment was not your style, even Steve knew that, but this guy was making that very difficult. "I don't need you trying to sneak into my bed every night."
"You have got to stop with the lying, it's getting you nowhere with me."
You screwed up your face. "Goodbye, Matt." And you hung up the phone.
Tumblr media
Matt was not having a good night. 
He went out on patrol like he did most nights. Like you told him to that night. That was where he'd called you from, a rooftop in Hell's kitchen. Maybe he did go seeking out trouble. Getting into fights he didn't need to be in. He wasn't unaccustomed to getting his ass kicked. No one knew more than Matt Murdock what pavement tasted like. What differed tonight from most nights, though, was the level at which he got his ass kicked. 
Whatever he was stuck with, it knocked him on his ass for a good ten minutes. Groggy and disorienting, like every cell was magnetized to the floor. His throat hurt, probably a symptom of being out in the cold all night. Even Daredevil wasn't immune to the common cold. He hauled himself off the floor with great effort, shocked his assailant left him there, and a little upset with himself he let the guy get away.
He was beaten and bruised and thoroughly feverish as he sat on the subway to Brooklyn.
He didn't want to show up on your doorstep. And you'd made it very clear you didn't want anything to do with him. But he was tired, and everything ached, and if anyone could fix his potentially broken rib, it would be you.
So, no, he didn't really blame you for the shock when you opened the door to your condo and found him slumped against the doorframe.
"Matt?" Your voice was high and indignant.
"I don't--" He fell forward, and you caught him taking off his mask.
"What the hell happened?" you demanded.
"Lost a fight," he managed, letting you guide him to the couch. He felt... some sort of tickle. Something that relaxed his muscles and felt soft, like how he imagined your skin felt.
"Matt, what the hell? Who did you get in a fight with?"
"I don't--" He grunted in pain, then relief as the pain in his ribs subsided.
He felt your face contort in pain, and your breath hitch.
"Don't--" he started.
"What happened?" you tried again.
His body started to feel light, so light, as if he were floating. Then he felt you slump against him, and suddenly, sleep was grabbing at his senses. He tried his hardest to resist it, tried to shake you awake, but he just ended up falling asleep, a hand snaking into your hair.
41 notes · View notes