4th Floor Apartment, 35th and 10th

"So how is it that you are so willing to break into someone's apartment?" Foggy whispered. "I thought you were the type of guy to just chill in your office all day and drink fancy lattes. That's what I'd do if I were you." He tried to lift the mood, as well as act as if he didn't know that Danny was the thrill-seeking Iron Fist. Also, he was trying to distract himself from the fact that his heart was racing so fast it felt like it was going to rip from his chest.

Danny chuckled. "I hate the office, man. It's quite boring." They were in the bedroom, in which he crept around with impressive agility. Foggy, however, was trying not to trip over his own feet.

The bed was made and the room tidy, but everything was covered in a thin layer of dust. They searched the entire room before moving on to the next--the living room--which looked as abandoned as the bedroom. Then something caught Foggy's eye.

There was a bookshelf against one of the walls, but there was a line of dust missing from where one of the books had been recently read. He took the book and flipped through the pages. Then, when he reached page 394, a slip of paper fell out.

"What's that?" Danny picked up the paper, reading off an address for an office in Midtown, as well as the words "Thursday, 11pm". Thursday was tomorrow. "See ya tomorrow?" Danny looked at Foggy with a smirk on his face.

°•°•°•°• ó-ò •°•°•°•°

Nelson and Murdock
Thursday, Noon

"Jenna," Foggy said. "Have you seen Cara lately?" She shook her head.

"You don't have to tell me, though," she said, already guessing what Foggy was going to say next. "I know she still said no to the representation."

He nodded sadly.

"Well, this is all just a shitty mess," she muttered. "She has a trial soon, and I suppose she will be stuck with a public defender, but she will probably just insist that she represent herself."

"Is there any way that you know of that we can get through to her?"

She shook her head again. "The Cara I knew...it's like she's forgotten who she was. She is just pure anger and revenge. Even after what Peter did, I can't help but feel bad for him after how she is treating him." She explained what had happened the previous day:

A terrified and guilty Peter had tried to visit Cara to apologize, but had instead received death threats (and an attempt to strangle him), so he had to be dragged out of the room by the guards. This resulted in Cara being denied any more visitors with the exception of attorneys.

"I--I can't believe I'm saying this...but do you think she's too far g--" Jenna stopped, swallowing back tears. "Do you think she's past saving?"

Foggy forced a smile. "Matt seems to think that no one is past saving...that everyone deserves a second chance. So, I think we owe it to Cara to give her the benefit of the doubt."

Jenna nodded, trying to cheer up. Foggy rested his hand on her shoulder, and she threw herself at him, wrapping him into a tight and tearful hug.

°•°•°•°• ó-ò •°•°•°•°

Savannah, Georgia

Matt, Karen, and Luke decided to visit a local restaurant on their way to the airport. Luke was still confused about Matt's abilities, even after his explanation of them the night before. He kept watching Matt closely, trying to prove to himself that Matt was not, in fact, blind at all.

They scanned the menu, which included Southern delicacies like fried chicken, barbecued meats, cornbread, biscuits and gravy, bacon, and fatback.  Matt ran his fingers across the ink.

"Hello," said their waitress, walking up with a notepad in hand. "Can I start y'all off with some drinks? We've got the best sweet tea around!"

After ordering, the three of them launched into conversation.

"Look, I still don't get how you do it," Luke said, keeping his voice down. Then, conveniently, a waitress walked by, struggling to balance her food tray. A straw rolled off of it, and Matt reached out casually, catching it in his hand. He unwrapped it and stuck it into his drink, from which he sipped nonchalantly. Karen snickered.

"Like that," she said.

"Heightened senses," Matt replied. "Or, I suppose you could call it a 'radar sense', if you so choose. But you're quite impressive, yourself." He pointed at Luke's arm, which was resting on the table, referring to his unbreakable skin.

Luke shrugged, thinking about his nonconsensual experimentation and Matt's childhood accident. "Seems like no one gets their abilities on purpose these days."

"You're right about that."

°•°•°•°• ó-ò •°•°•°•°

Somewhere in New York

"You know, I met Karen at your funeral," Doris told her husband. She twisted her wedding ring around her finger, proud to have her husband back, but still concerned about his well-being. He'd been back a couple of weeks, but she was still on high alert to his condition. Or at least, as high of alert that she could be, due to her own condition. She thought about how overjoyed she was when he appeared on her doorstep. Many tears were shed. Neither of them could believe what had happened at first, but they were both very thankful.

Ben smiled. "She's a good kid."

"She felt guilty," Doris explained, "for pushing you. I told her that it wasn't her fault." Ben nodded. There was a short silence. "I think you should go see her."

"I will," Ben said. "But I want to see you."

"You've been here for days. You haven't left since you got here. I can be alone for a little while while you go out, get some sunshine, and catch up with old friends."

Ben knew she was right. She'd been fine while he was dead. He was just afraid of losing her again, but he knew that the right thing to do was to find Karen, Matt, and Foggy and congratulate them on catching Fisk, as well as reassure them that his death was not their fault.

"Okay. I'll go later this week."

"Tomorrow."

"All right, fine then."

He smirked at her lovingly and leaned over to give her a peck on the lips. As they parted, his shirt collar slid down and Doris caught the sight that would forever haunt her: the marks on his neck that had taken his life. She covered up her heartbreak with a warm smile, and Ben left the room for a moment to get them both some coffee.

°•°•°•°• ó-ò •°•°•°•°

Savannah, Georgia

"So, you having these abilities...do you use them for other things?" Luke asked. His tone was as if he was asking for advice.

"You mean, am I the hero of my own Harlem?" Matt suggested. Karen, realizing where the conversation was going, began to poke her chicken pot pie more aggressively with each bite.

Luke nodded.

"Yes, I suppose you could call me that," Matt said. "I tend to be viewed as more of a devil than a hero..."

"You're Daredevil?" Luke said, a little too loudly. Karen looked around frantically to see if anyone had heard, but luckily, either no one heard, or no one seemed interested.

"Well...yes."

Luke exhaled with surprise. "Not bad" was all he said after that. If Matt hadn't known better, he would've thought Luke seemed a bit starstruck.

"Would any of you be interested in our pecan pie or sweet potato soufflé? Also, our Pudding of the Day is banana," their waitress said as they were nearing the end of their meal.

They ordered one of each.

°•°•°•°• ó-ò •°•°•°•°

Sacred Saints Cemetery
10:30 p.m.

The Restitutionist walked calmly through the cemetery, searching for someone new to resurrect. His eyes scanned the graves, looking for a last name that started with the letter "O", as it was the next letter in his pangram. He passed the N's--although a peculiarly beautiful name of Elektra Natchios caught his eye--arriving at the O's. He picked one that was toward the end of the O's, resting beside a Benjamin Parker. Kneeling in front of one Leland Owlsley, he made his decision.

He took a deep breath, then shoved his fist into the ground, his arm elongating until his fingers met those of the corpse. Warmth flowed through his veins, surging into the body below. He yanked the now-alive arm up until it reached the night air. He whispered his usual "you're free" and hurried away into the night, deciding to resurrect the next letter of his pangram--a W--that same night. After all, he liked a little variety within a pattern, which could be proven by the fact that every aspect of these resurrections was completely random except for the pangram and the type of death.

Meanwhile, the newly-resurrected man crawled across the grass, coughing as his body restored itself. After all, it wasn't well-preserved, due to the fact that he was dead for several days before he had been found and buried.

Leland crawled several feet before he found an old discarded water bottle, which he practically inhaled in his haste to nourish himself. Hunger and thirst overwhelmed him, as well as the pang of revenge as his last moments of life flashed in his mind.

°•°•°•°• ó-ò •°•°•°•°

Matt's Apartment
11 p.m.

Matt finally arrived home after parting with Luke and Karen. They'd decided to take Luke straight to Claire's as soon as they arrived in New York, for which she was very grateful. Matt was pleased to learn that Danny had kept the city intact while he was gone. They even discussed the Restitutionist, and Luke and Claire said that they'd be willing to help out in any way if Matt needed it.

He'd also contacted Foggy as soon as they'd arrived, and he said he'd be back in the office the next day. Foggy even said that he was following a lead tonight, but he did not disclose any of the details over the phone, which left Matt curious, but he wasn't worried.

Now, it felt good to be home. Matt wondered how his father was, but he was already asleep. He decided to ask him in the morning.

°•°•°•°• ó-ò •°•°•°•°

Midtown
11 p.m.

Danny and Foggy waited quietly, watching the office building intently. They were sitting in Danny's car, hiding in the shadows of the sun visors.

Finally, a man in dark clothing hurried inside. Foggy could've sworn he saw mud on his shoes.

After a few minutes of silence, Danny whispered, "should we go inside?"

Foggy was unsure of what awaited them inside the building. He wished Matt was there so he could hear what was going on in the office. He should've told him what he was doing, but he was afraid that Matt would get mad at him for putting himself in danger.

"I don't know..." Foggy trailed off.

"Maybe you should stay here and keep watch. I'll go in," Danny suggested.

Foggy nodded, although he was only half-listening. It wasn't until Danny had already closed the office door behind him that he realized what he'd agreed to.

"Well, shit."

Foggy watched anxiously for the next half hour, but nothing happened. His heart was racing. Should he go in? Should he call the police? Every minute that crept by made Foggy more worried that something was wrong.

How long was he supposed to wait on Danny? Damn, movies always portrayed stakeout scenes as if something was always happening every second, but in reality, most of the time you are just staring at nothingness while trying not to fall asleep.

Fifteen minutes went by. Foggy's phone was in his hand, which he was squeezing so tightly that his knuckles were white. If he did use his phone, who would he call? Would the police really be the most helpful, or would Daredevil?

Foggy closed his eyes, banging the back of his head against the seat with a groan. He thought about turning on some music. As he reached for the stereo, he stopped himself.

The hell are you doing, man? He thought. Don't call attention to yourself.

So he sat in silence. Another fifteen minutes rolled by, and he finally saw movement. He'd almost missed it, due to the fact that he was half asleep at the time. But now he was on high alert, excited that something was finally happening.

It was just a stray cat.

Foggy groaned again, then started playing a game on his phone. Then he heard a crash. He jumped so high that his head hit the ceiling.

"Shit," he muttered, rubbing the top of his head. He watched as a bright yellow glow appeared beside the building, about a floor up. It trailed down the bottom of the fire escape until Foggy realized that it was coming toward him.

Foggy was about ready to throw himself into the drivers seat and floor it, until he realized it was Danny, his fist shining like a flashlight as he sprinted to the car. He leapt inside, and they raced down the road, Danny's hand still glowing. He was panting heavily, sweat trailing down his forehead. Foggy only gawked at him. Finally, Danny spoke.

"We've got ourselves a situation."