Nelson and Murdock

"Okay, so yesterday, Jenna told us she visited her sister, right?  She seems...vengeful.  It's as if being dead changed her," Foggy said.

"Or being killed," Matt suggested.  "We've seen videos of the Resurrected.  They're not all crazy.  But imagine getting murdered, then being brought back.  I'd want to have a serious discussion with the person who ended my life."  He stared ahead, thinking.

"How's your dad?" Foggy asked.

"He's better."

Foggy nodded. 

"He spends all day on the Internet looking at the news.  He's really serious about the whole 'catching up' thing.  I don't think he feels comfortable anywhere else until he knows more about what's going on."  Matt shook his head.  "I guess I don't blame him."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

°•°•°•°• ó-ò •°•°•°•°

Matt's Childhood Home

Jack stood in front of the door.  He looked down at his feet, which were planted in the same place they always would be nights after his fights.  He would always stand there for a few moments after he lost a fight, always hesitating to open the door to his disappointed son.  Oh, how he'd wanted his son to be proud of him because he won.

But no, he had to throw the fight that night.  Because Sweeney told him to.

Until he didn't lose.  Jack backed up, wandering a block away until he reached the chain-link fence.  The gate was open, so he walked down the alley, stopping when he reached the place where he'd died.  This was the place that he'd fled when he'd heard Sweeney's men chasing him.  Where he'd lain on the pavement, covered in blood. 

He imagined what Matt must have felt when he found out.  Tears formed in his eyes, and he fell to his knees.  His hands traced the asphalt, and that's when the sobbing began.

°•°•°•°• ó-ò •°•°•°•°

Josie's Bar

"Karen, what would you do if your brother walked in here right now, after all these years?" Matt asked.  "What would you do if you were given a second chance with him?"

"First of all, I'd run up to him and bawl my eyes out.  After that, I have no idea," Karen replied.

Matt nodded, then turned his head behind him.  Karen followed his gaze.  Jack Murdock stepped into the door.

"Holy shit," Karen said.

"Yeah, hope you don't mind, but I invited him," Matt said.  "I wanted to get him out of the apartment, even if it's only for an hour or so; I'm actually pretty surprised he showed.  He probably did because he knew he was going to meet you." 

Matt and Karen moved from the bar to a table in the corner.  Jack joined them, acting a little nervous. 

"You must be Karen," Jack said.

Karen nodded.  "That's me."

"Matt has told me wonderful things about you."

Karen grinned, looking at Matt.  "Oh, he has?"

"Yeah, but just the good parts," Matt said.  Karen jabbed him with her elbow, causing him to laugh.  Jack smiled. 

"So, if you don't mind me asking, how did you two meet?" asked Jack.

"Uhh...an unfortunate event," Matt said.  "She was our first client."

"I see."

There was an awkward silence.

"Well, uh, you two seem great for each other," Jack said.

"Yes, I think so," Matt said, smiling at Karen.

They talked for awhile, exchanging funny stories.  Jack threw in a couple of embarrassing stories from Matt's childhood.  But, hey, that's a parent's job, isn't it?

"Did you know that Matt used to run through the house with underwear on his head?" Jack told Karen.

"Oh, man," Matt said, shaking his head.

"Really, now?" Karen said, raising her eyebrows at Matt.

"Yeah, and he loved the rainbow ones," Jack said with a chuckle.  "And the ones with the..."

"...with the pizzas on them," Matt finished Jack's sentence.  They all laughed.

The stories were a great icebreaker.  They were laughing and even shedding a few happy tears, losing track of time.  They stayed there for three hours before finally heading home.

"Well, Mr. Murdock, it's been a pleasure meeting you," Karen said, picking up her purse and swinging it over her shoulder.

"Oh, please, call me Jack," he replied.  "And the pleasure was mine."

°•°•°•°• ó-ò •°•°•°•°

Matt's Apartment

"You've got yourself a wonderful girl, Matty," Jack said, slapping his son on the shoulder.

"Thanks," Matt said. 

Eventually, the two of them went to bed.  Matt was lying on the couch, listening and waiting until his father fell asleep.  Once he did, Matt put on his Daredevil suit and headed out for the night.

Not long after, Jack sat up in his bed, having jerked awake.  He had been dreaming about that horrible night, when the bullet pierced his skin and threw him onto the asphalt.  His hand clutched his chest, right above his scar.  His breathing was heavy and afraid, but then he realized where he was, eventually calming down.  He wiped sweat off of his forehead with the back of his hand, then left the bedroom to get a drink of water.

He stopped, realizing that Matt wasn't on the couch. 

Too tired to look for him, Jack got his glass of water and assumed that Matt was in the bathroom, and then he went back to bed.

Jack sat there on the mattress, sipping the water, deep in thought.  He tried to remember what it was like being dead.  Was it nothingness?  Did he go to Heaven?  Was Heaven even real?  He wanted it to be.  And wouldn't the Resurrected be proof of what happens to the soul after death?

It should have been.  But he remembered nothing. 

Maybe his mortal mind couldn't retain the euphoric wonders of the afterlife.  Or maybe, there wasn't an afterlife at all.

But hey, that's why people have faith.

Ever since his return, he'd noticed that Matt's Catholicism had grown ten times over since Jack had died.  Matt wasn't a child anymore; he was a strong, mature adult who knew his way around the world, around himself.  That was something Jack could be proud of. 

No, Jack hadn't been there for Matt during the majority of his life, and that was heartbreaking, but it truly made Jack happy to see the man that his son had become.  Perhaps the little that Jack had been able to teach Matt had been just enough to get him through.

Unless, there had been someone else.  Someone to teach him about the world.  Matt had mentioned foster care, and a few other people had been there for him--in and out, at least--when his mother bailed on him again.  None of them seemed too permanent or important.  Jack's heart ached.

But, Matt's voice had changed when he'd mentioned an old man.  He'd only spoken of him vaguely and briefly, but Jack had sensed dislike, but also a little respect.  Or so he could tell.  Matt had grown much harder to read over the years.

Jack sighed, finished his water, and then climbed back under the sheets.  His eyelids grew heavy.

A few minutes later, Matt returned, still in his Daredevil suit.  But, Jack had already fallen back asleep.

  °•°•°•°• ó-ò •°•°•°•°  

The next morning, Matt awoke, shortly before receiving a phone call.  It was from Claire.

"Hey," Matt said.  "Are you all right?"  He was concerned.

"Anytime we talk on the phone, or even speak to each other in general, someone is in trouble.  We've really gotta fix that," Claire said from the other end.

"Agreed.  So, what is it?"  Matt opened the refrigerator and poured himself some milk.

"I need a favor.  And you owe me a bunch of them."

"Okay, what do you need?"

"I've got a friend that needs a lawyer.  He's got a trial in Georgia in a few days, and he still hasn't picked one.  I told him I'd talk to you."

"In Georgia?  Claire...you know I can't leave--"

"Yeah, I know you don't like to leave your night job, and I know there's a ton of stuff going on with this Restitutionist guy, but he is innocent, and he needs your help.  And part of what got him into all of this was how he got his powers."  

So he was gifted, like Matt.  That's probably the main reason she called him.

"You're right, I can't leave this now--"

"I know Foggy can do fine without you for a few days.  And I know a guy that can watch the city for a few nights.  He, um...he can throw a pretty good punch."

Matt sighed, not saying anything for a few moments.  "Your Georgia friend, does he have a file?"

"Thanks, Matt."

"I can't make any guarantees, but I'll talk to Foggy.  And I want to meet your guy, too."

"Thank you.  I'll talk to him, and I'll bring you all of the information you need."

Matt's head tilted in his father's direction as he stepped out of the bedroom.  "Okay, see you then."  He hung up the phone.

"Hey, Matty," Jack said.

Matt turned around.  "Hey."

"Was that Karen?"

"No, no.  It was a friend.  She has a potential client for me."

"That's good," Jack said.

"Yeah.  I'm gonna tell Foggy."

He dialed his friend's number and stepped outside for the call. 

"Hey, Matt," Foggy said.

"Hey.  Claire has a client for us."

"Really?" Foggy was excited, because they were getting more business again.

"Yeah."

Foggy sensed the lack of excitement in his friend's voice.  "Is there something wrong with that?"

"I'm going to have to go to Georgia."

"What?  The client is all the way in Georgia?  Matt, we've got to set borders for this kind of thing.  Like, I know we need clients and all, but we can't cross the country trying to get them."

"I know, but there's more to it than that."

"Is there?"

"Yeah.  Turns out he's gifted."

Foggy sighed.  "If he is, then I'm sure he can get out of this mess on his own."

"I don't think so."

"Jesus, Matt, why do you always have to be so difficult?"

Matt smiled a little.

"Besides, I thought you had this immense dedication to the city.  Are you just going to up and leave?" Foggy asked. "What about this whole crime-fighting shit you're so serious about?"

"She's got someone for that."

"Dude, you've never even left New York.  Like, ever.  Are you sure you want to do this?"

"If I didn't, I would regret it."

Foggy sighed.  He understood.

"What about your Dad?"

"I hate to leave him, but I've got the feeling that he will be just fine.  The space might be good for him, anyway."

"Whatever you think, Matt."

Jack was standing on the other side of the door, his ear pressed against it. The conversation was muffled, and he only heard Matt's end, but he heard enough of it to make him even more suspicious than he already was.

Jack backed away, feeling dirty for listening. Why am I like this? This is Matty. He deserves a personal life. And whatever it is, he'll tell me when he's ready. Once we figure all of this shit out.

Jack went into the kitchen and found himself some cereal.

Meanwhile, Matt continued to speak to Foggy, fully aware that Jack had been listening, but also that he was no longer in earshot.  He knew that the day was quickly approaching that he would have to break the ice with his father and tell him the truth. But he wasn't ready, yet. He didn't think he would ever be ready.

  °•°•°•°• ó-ò •°•°•°•°  

Seagate Federal Penitentiary  

This was a place of memories, and not any good ones.  The death of his friend, the corruption of the arena, the harsh experiments, and the manipulation of his wife.  Not to mention the framing that had gotten him there in the first place.

But there he was again, surrounded by metal bars, lying on the stiff bed, staring at the concrete ceiling.  The past couple of months had been mostly the same: He'd always hear whispering before he went to sleep each night...the inmates, gossiping about Carl Lucas.

He didn't have much luck with friends, not that he was trying.  Squabbles had been murdered, and Reva had used him, before eventually being murdered herself.  So no, he hadn't been quick to find any new ones.  

Also, as far as he could tell, the arena was gone, though it could have become a better-kept secret by now.  He hoped that it was truly gone.

Because of his previous escape, he was constantly equipped with a tracking bracelet, as well as cuffs around his ankles, which were apparently formed from a stronger metal than normal cuffs.  He still could have broken them in an instant, though, but he wasn't going to do it.  He'd already broken a pair of handcuffs just to spite a guard that was being extremely rude to him, not to mention racist.  

It scared the shit out of him, to say the least.

So that's when they had opted for the stronger metal, which was still underestimating his strength.  But he was tired of running.  This part of his past was something he couldn't run from anymore.  He had to face it head-on.  And that's what Luke was going to do.

And the court date was right around the corner.