The 15th Precinct

"As a result of new evidence disproving our client's guilt, we request her immediate release," said Matt.

"Yeah, yeah, we'll get her," the officer said.  He rolled his eyes, walking away to retrieve Jenna.

It was the morning following Catherine Lawrence's arrest.  Matt and Foggy were working to have Jenna released.  Brett Mahoney approached them.

"So it was her sister," Brett said.

"Yep," Foggy replied.

"Damn."  He scratched his head.  "I swear, Daredevil is on every case you guys are."

Foggy forced a laugh of denial.

"Well I suppose he has good taste," Matt said humorously.  He gripped his cane nonchalantly with his right hand above his left.

Brett laughed.  "I guess he does."

Matt and Foggy waited until the release was finally complete.  Jenna was required to undergo questioning about her sister beforehand, which really tore her apart.  Also, her request to see her sister was denied.

"Do you think this Restitutionist guy is in cahoots with the Hand?" Foggy asked Matt after Brett left to attend to other matters.  "Or is the Hand?"  They conversed quietly so no one could hear them.

"No, I don't," said Matt.  "The Hand is focused on raising their own, not random people from the cemetery that died young.  Also, they work in the shadows, so why announce their doings with a note and a new name?"

"Well, we don't know who the Restitutionist is, so technically he does work in the shadows..."

"But the world knows he exists at least."

"Then how the hell else can a person raise someone from the dead?"

"I'm sure that's something that everyone wants to know."

°•°•°•°• ó-ò •°•°•°•°

Nelson and Murdock

"Sorry, this place is a little sparse," Matt said.  Foggy turned on the lights of their old office.  "We don't have all of our stuff anymore."

"Yes!" Foggy exclaimed.  "They work!"  He threw his hands out, enthused at the electricity.

"It's--It's fine," Jenna said.  

"Do you want to sit down?" Matt offered.  There was a stray chair in the corner of the room by the desk.  No one had removed the furniture, at least.  

"Uh, sure."  Jenna did so.  "I--I can't believe Cara is alive.  And she's trying to kill people."

"It's a complicated world," Foggy said.  "Every day something surprises you."  

Matt leaned his cane against the wall in his usual spot.  He waved his hand out in front of him blindly as he walked, until his fingers made contact with the back of another stray chair, which was facing the wall.  Foggy found a third chair in the conference room.  They both dragged their seats to Jenna and joined her in sitting down.

"My mother was screaming when the cops arrested me.  She was so...hurt.  Afraid...for me.  And now that my sister is alive and the one responsible, it probably will just hurt her even more.  Just her visiting me in jail had me believing that she was going to have a heart attack."

"Hey, we will figure something out," Foggy said.  "We will represent Cara, as long as she agrees to it."

Jenna looked at Foggy with a small glimmer of hope.  "Thank you."

After half an hour of discussion, they came to a unanimous decision that Jenna should return home.  Matt and Foggy escorted her to the curb and flagged her a taxi.

"Thank you," Jenna said, climbing into the backseat.  "Just let me know what kind of food you want." 

After checking the driver, Foggy gave her a thumbs-up.  "We will."

Jenna shut the door, and the taxi drove away.

"You're always on the lookout for him now, aren't you?" Matt said to Foggy.

"Hell yes.  She doesn't deserve a ride with Scarface any more than anyone does."  Foggy tucked his hair behind his right ear.  "Though I would make an exception for seeing Wilson Fisk's fat ass in his backseat."

°•°•°•°• ó-ò •°•°•°•°

Matt's Apartment

Matt opened his eyes as his alarm carried on.  He turned it off, then sat up in his bed.  And, he did his usual routine.

The news anchor was discussing the Restitutionist, which was all anyone could think about now.  "The city is under moral chaos as a new figure who calls himself 'the Restitutionist' has begun resurrecting people.  Several cemeteries have been hit, with random graves found dug up and empty.  No one knows how he chooses each person, except for a sentence he included in his recent note found on Jonathan Baxter's grave: 'When one's life is taken from them far too soon, and completely out of their control, its value is stripped away as they take their final breaths.'  Is this 'Restitutionist' targeting the short-lived?

"Several families have already reunited with lost spouses, sons, daughters, sisters, and brothers.   Controversy has risen as civilians are worried about the objectives of the 'Resurrected' and who they might be, though some families refuse to take action against the Restitutionist, as he has given them a wonderful gift."

"The Restitutionist returned my daughter to where she belongs," said a woman being interviewed.  "I don't know how I can ever repay him."

"This man has too much control.  Who knows who he will bring back next?  Ted Bundy?  Richard Ramirez?  Adolf Hitler?  Joseph Stalin?  No one should have this kind of power," a man said.   There was anger in his voice.

The news continued to broadcast citizens barking back and forth on whether or not the Restitutionist should be apprehended.

Matt got dressed and took a taxi to the Catholic church.

He found Father Lantom sitting on the front pew, who turned around at the sound of Matt's cane tapping against the floor.

"Matthew," Father Lantom said with acknowledgement.  Matt took a seat behind him.

"Father, I--I don't know what to do," Matt said.  "Or how to do it."

"What do you mean?"  Matt could sense in his voice that he already had an idea.

"Have you seen the news?" Matt asked.  

"This is about the Restitutionist, isn't it?"

Matt nodded, removing his glasses.  "I don't know whose side he's on, and if what he's doing is right."

Father Lantom relaxed his arm across the back of his pew with a sigh.  "You can't play God, Matthew, despite how right or wrong it may feel.  God lets people live and die for very important reasons, that we may or may not know, and they should not be tampered with."  He took a moment to look into Matt's conflicted eyes.  "What happens when he brings back a serial killer, or a rapist?  When the difference between right and wrong is concerned, perhaps giving life and taking it away aren't all that different."

°•°•°•°• ó-ò •°•°•°•°

Fogwell's Gym

Matt pounded his fists against the punching bag, releasing heavy breaths with each one.  The exhales eventually became grunts.

He stopped throwing punches when he heard the door open and close.  He listened to the footsteps, the heartbeat, and felt her long hair being pushed behind her ear as she combed through it with her fingers.  Karen. 

"You're gonna go after him, aren't you?" she said as she approached him.  Matt began unwrapping his hands, starting with his left.

"Yeah," he replied.  "Seems like the thing to do."

"Why?"

"No one should have that kind of power," said Matt.  "You saw Frank, what he did.  What makes the Restitutionist any different than him?"

"The Restitutionist brings people back to life; he doesn't kill them."

"And who all do you think he will bring back?"

"The people who died...against their will."

"Yeah, and where do you draw the line for that?"  Matt began unwrapping his right hand.  "Most people do die 'against their will'.  And some of them aren't the best people.  Are the people who committed suicide supposed to be the only people to stay dead?"

"Well, I know that this guy has the potential to bring back anyone he wants, I get that, but he can be useful."

"Useful how?"

"Assassinated presidents, maybe, I don't know exactly.  And the murdered, the ones who died in wars, children who died of cancer...they can return to their families and spare the grief.  People like that deserve much more time."

"So, you just want to make the human race immortal?"

"No!  No, that would be awful.  I--I just think we have an opportunity here.  Like, maybe instead of just catching him, you can talk to him.  You can see whose side he's on."

"Karen...is there something you want from him?"

Karen bit her lip, tucking her hair behind her ear a couple of times.  "A ton of people have died because of everyone else's shit.  The people that Fisk had killed...Ben, Elena...and then there's..."  Karen stopped, swallowing.  "My brother.  I--I feel so guilty..."  She stopped again, wiping her nose.  "He'd probably just hate me, but at least he'd be alive, which I failed--"  Karen sobbed.

"Karen," said Matt.  He wrapped his arms around her, and she rested her forehead on his shoulder, not caring that he was sweaty.  "Kevin would understand.  But just because they didn't deserve to die, that doesn't mean they should be brought back.  There are so many things that could go wrong.  And it's just not right."

Karen nodded against his chest.  "Yeah, yeah I get it."  She inhaled deeply, lifting her head up and looking him in the eye.  Matt's eyes were looking at her chin, and there was a kind of innocence in that, his failure to make eye contact.  Perhaps it appeared that way because it looked as if he couldn't harm what he couldn't see, or maybe it was more in-depth than that; she didn't know.

Matt rubbed Karen's back in between her shoulder blades, something that always comforted her and relieved her stress.  This caused her to allow a faint, dim smile appear on her face, but only for a moment.

"I'm sorry I just broke down like that," Karen said, biting her lip again and wiping away a couple of tears that had managed to make their way down her cheeks.  "Those kinds of memories can just control you sometimes."

Matt's brow furrowed, and he tightened his lips.  "Yeah, I know.  Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine."

This time Matt was the one to tuck her hair behind her ear, and then he kissed her forehead.  "Do you need anything?  Food or something?"

"Yeah, I guess I'm a little hungry..."

"All right.  Do you have anything in mind?"

Karen shook her head, thinking for a moment.

"I'm sensing a desire for some more Ramen noodles," Matt said with a chuckle.

Karen grinned.  "Tempting, but I think I'm craving some...pizza."

"O-kay, pizza it is."  

Matt pulled out his cell phone and ordered one to be delivered to his apartment.  After he hung up the phone, he placed his hand on Karen's shoulder.

"We should probably be there before the pizza guy."

Matt and Karen took a taxi to his apartment, right as a heavy rain began pouring from the sky.  Once they reached the curb, they stumbled out of the taxi, giggling as they raced to his apartment door, the raindrops showering their faces and soaking their clothing.  Matt reached into his pocket for his door key, but Karen snatched it from his fingers, throwing it on the ground several feet away.

Matt turned his head to Karen with surprise.  "Ka--"

Karen silenced him with her lips.  Matt's eyebrows lifted, and he cradled her head in his right hand.  Karen took a small step forward, causing Matt's backside to touch the wall.  He smiled against her mouth, and so did she.  They eventually broke away, inhaling deeply.  

"I didn't expect that," Matt said, charismatic.  "But it was great."  Karen grinned.  "Are you going to attack me again if I get my key?"

"Do you want me to?"  Karen's grin only widened.  

Matt dove at the key, and Karen went for a pounce.  Before Karen reached Matt, he had already acquired it, spinning around and catching her in his arms.  

"Ah!" Karen exclaimed.  "Hey!"

Matt threw her over his shoulder.  Karen kicked her legs, cackling and slinging more water on Matt than there already was.  He whirled around in a few circles before inserting the key into the lock and swinging the door open.

Once Matt set Karen down, she took a few steps forward with elation, her foot slipping out from under her.  Matt caught her, her head hitting his chest.

"Oof!  Look at what you did," teased Matt.  "Now I'm gonna have to mop the floor."  

He helped Karen to her feet, and she took more careful steps this time.  "Maybe you shouldn't have dropped your keys."

"Right," said Matt sarcastically.  "I'll just have to hold on to them tighter next time."

After the two of them wrapped up in towels, there was a knock at the door.  

"Pizza!" Karen shouted.  Matt could hear that her voice had gotten shakier, probably as she began to think more about the conversation they'd had at Fogwell's.  She wanted to forget about it and be happy in this moment, so Matt decided he'd let her.  

Matt picked up the cash he had sitting out and retrieved the pizza.  It smelled wonderful, especially since he felt famished.

They both curled up next to each other on his couch, munching on their slices.  Karen stared off into the distance, her head nuzzled against Matt's shoulder.

They stayed like this for a couple of hours, falling asleep.  Matt's eyes opened after the sun had set, like clockwork.  He carefully wriggled out from under Karen, lying her head carefully against the cushion.  

He hung his towel on the back of his dining chair.  Next, he pulled out the box that contained his Daredevil suit and changed into it.

Now fully dressed in the red suit, absent the mask, Matt sensed Karen's consciousness returning.  As her eyelids fluttered, he bent over and kissed her forehead.  She looked into his eyes with a smirk.

"Go kick some ass," she whispered.  

Matt's back straightened, and he slid the mask onto his head, smiling.  "I'll do my best."  He climbed the stairs and left through the roof door.

Karen closed her eyes again with a sigh of pleasure and admiration.

°•°•°•°• ó-ò •°•°•°•°

Daredevil swept Hell's Kitchen, from one cemetery to the next, trying to get an idea of how many people had been resurrected, and if there was a pattern between each one.  

There wasn't a pattern, but he counted 37 empty graves total.  And the last one he found...the dirt was much fresher.  It still had some body heat radiating from the edge of the grave.  

Daredevil squatted here, removed a glove, and began to run his fingers across a handprint in the loose dirt.  A couple of feet away, there was a footprint and a kneeprint from where the Restitutionist had knelt.  

The grave wasn't dug up neatly.  In fact, like all of the others, it wasn't even dug up at all.  It appeared as if the dead person just crawled out on their own.  Daredevil reached his hand down into the hole to see if it was possible that the Restitutionist could have done the same, pulling them out.  

It seemed possible.  But, how could a man bore through six feet of dirt and a casket with his fist?  The casket had a hole that seemed to have been clawed out from the inside.  

After Daredevil was finished with his forensics, he heard a rustle and a faint heartbeat.  The person's breaths were heavy and uneven.  Their--her--blood flowed slowly, though it was accelerating.  She stumbled, lightheaded.  It was as if she'd just...

Come back to life.  

Daredevil ran his fingers over the woman's headstone, reading her name.  Danielle Amanda Marley.  She had died in 2004 at 49 years old.

"Danielle?" Daredevil said, approaching her cautiously.

Her skin was burnt and crispy, obviously meaning that she'd died in some kind of fire.  She simply brushed off the damage, revealing only scars.  She was as surprised as Daredevil was.

"Danielle?" Daredevil said again.  She didn't acknowledge him.  He tried another name.  "Amanda?"

This time, she looked at him.  Her head cocked, and she coughed dryly.  Her stomach rumbled.  This woman needed food and water.

"What's going on?" she croaked.  She coughed again, blinking several times to try to bring the world into focus.  

She screamed, taking several quick steps back before falling.  Daredevil ran to her aid.

The woman struggled to crawl across the ground away from him, filled with terror at his devilish appearance.  "Satan!  It's you!  I'm in Hell!" 

"Hey, hey, hey!"  Daredevil struggled to calm her down, reaching out to her, only for her to scream and kick.  Her heart rate quickened, and she was going to die if she was afraid much longer, given the circumstances that were already her current body condition.  

Daredevil yanked off his mask without a second thought, revealing his true face to the panicking young woman.  She stopped fighting, breathing heavily.  Her heart rate began to slow.

"It's just a mask, see?  I'm just a man," Daredevil said.  "It's only a costume, okay?"  She nodded.  Her breathing was almost normal now, and so was her heartbeat.  Her vision was finally completely clear.

"Amanda, right?" Daredevil confirmed.  The woman nodded.  "You should get to a hospital; let me help you."  Amanda was going to protest, but decided against it when she burst into a dry coughing fit.  Daredevil put his mask back on.  "Okay, let me get you"--he hoisted her into his arms--"there we go.  The nurses will explain everything, all right?"  

Amanda nodded again, attempting to swallow.  The nearest hospital was only a couple of blocks away, and he carried her all the way to the ER.  

°•°•°•°• ó-ò •°•°•°•°

Jenna's Apartment

Jenna was lying in her bed, staring at the ceiling.  She could hear her mother crying in the next room.  They'd been back from the precinct for a few hours, but time didn't help their emotional statuses one bit.

Cara was different now.  All she cared about was revenge.  Peter had hurt her, and she intended to do nothing less to him.  

Her humanity had faded away.  Cara's eyes were stone-cold, and she definitely didn't want to see her family.  That was what hurt, that she didn't care.  That the person brought back from the grave was no longer her twin sister, but a monster with her memories.

"If you're here for a family reunion, then you can suck it.  I'm not listening to any shit unless it involves taking me to Peter," Cara said.  

"Cara, we're happy you're back.  We missed you.  We want to help you so we can bring you home," her mom replied, trying to hold back tears.

"I've changed.  Now I know the kind of bullshit people make themselves believe.  The only thing I believe in is vengeance."

"Cara--"

That's when she attacked.  Cara had managed to pick the lock of her handcuffs and free her hands, leaping across the table to strangle her mother.  

"CARA!" Jenna screamed.  She fought her sister, trying to pull her arms away from the headlock.  "YOU'RE KILLING HER!"

The door burst open, Cara and her mother were ripped apart, and Cara was restrained.  

Cara's eyes landed on Jenna as she was held against the floor.  She spoke through gritted teeth, "The world is full of the lies it tells as the people inside it kill you." 

A tear rolled down Jenna's cheek.  Wasn't getting her sister back supposed to feel like a wonderful gift, a dream come true?  She should be happy to have Cara back, right?  

She wanted to be.  She tried.  But she wasn't.