Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Dex felt the weight of the gun in his hands, heavy, cold. He started at it as if his fucked up life would suddenly change in an instant and he would no longer want to pull the trigger. But he had screwed things up with his North Star. He no longer had the structured routine that the FBI offered and it could be months until he was greenlit for duty again. 

He might never be. 

He considers killing Fisk briefly. It would be so easy to switch off the cameras and put a bullet through his eyes. Fisk would be expecting it, maybe, but Dex was pretty confident that he would end up winning that fight so long as he kept his distance. But his life would still be fucked anyway, so why not just end it now? He was sick of it. Sick of the play pretend, the shame of not being human in the way everyone else is. 

The clock ticked on the wall. The gun was heavy, cold, against his chin, cooling his sweaty skin briefly. 

Come on Dex, pull the trigger. It will be as easy as it's always been. 

Tick, tick, tick. He took a deep breath, his last one. 

Instead of hearing the loud shot of the gun, feeling the blissful silence of nothing, Dex jerked his head up to the sound of his window slowly sliding open. He trained the gun on the man in the mask now standing in front of his dining table. His upper face was covered in black cloth which he surely could not see out of. He was muscular, tall, and out of place. The only person ever in Dex’s apartment was Dex. He's not sure why he doesn't shoot. He'd be well within his right. He blames it on his scrambled mental state and the way the man carefully raised his arms. 

And he was curious, sue him. 

“Agent Poindexter” His voice was low but not intimidating. He seemed caught off guard by the scene he stepped into. 

“ What do you want?” Dex had meant to sound dangerous, but the panic attack had made his voice weak. He cocks the gun and switches his aim from the man's heart to his head. 

“I'm not here to hurt you. You can put the gun down.”

An unexpected laugh of disbelief forced it's way out of Dex’s throat. 

“A strange man dressed in some ninja get-up breaks into my apartment and I'm supposed to what? Offer him a cup of coffee?” 

“Coffee would be nice.” 

“Fuck off.” 

The man approached him slowly, hands still raised. He stopped right in front of where Dex sat. “Are you…alright?” He asked.

Dex pressed the gun to the man's chest and watched as his throat bobbed when he swallowed. 

“Will you just tell me what you're here for? I was working up to something important before you interrupted.” 

The man slowly, slowly lifted his hand to the gun and wrapped his hand around it. He trailed his fingers down the barrel, ghosted them over Dex’s own hands, which he now realized were shaking. With every moment that passed, his adrenaline lowered. He no longer felt worked up enough to splatter his own brains on the wall. He just felt annoyance, at this man who still hadn't told him why he was here. 

“I asked you a question, ninja. Stop caressing me and answer it.” 

The ‘ninja’ in question took the pistol from his grip and placed it gently on the table. Dex is really off his game today. The man should count himself lucky. 

“ I wanted to ask you some questions, but perhaps it's not the best time for that. Why were you trying to kill yourself, Benjamin?” The man seemed..lost, almost, like this was unfamiliar territory. Dex got the impression that he gave out more beatings than therapy sessions. 

“Why does anyone? I don't see why it matters. You-” Dex was interrupted by his phone buzzing with an incoming call. 

“Who is it?” The man leaned forward and asked. 

It was Fisk, but seriously, who did this guy think he was? Nosey fucker. 

“My boss.” Not a truth, but not entirely a lie either. The FBI was essentially working for the man at this point. Dex isn't sure why he offers the information. 

“You gonna answer it?” 

Dex thought that if he had to hear some ‘when i was a boy..’ spiel he would regain the courage to shoot himself after all. 

“No. I don't work from home.” 

The man's lip twitched upwards with a slight smile. His lips looked soft compared to the rest of him. Jesus, Dex’s head really was scrambled. 

“Listen. I need information. About Fisk.”

“Didn't you hear I was suspended? Go ask someone else.” 

“That's exactly why I came to you. How does one of the best agents suddenly come under investigation as soon as Fisk enters the picture? And the media coverage is too much. This sort of thing is usually kept under wraps.” 

Dex knew that Fisk was behind it. Give the public another villain. Make Dex depend on him if he wanted it fixed. The man was clever, manipulative. And Dex wasn't too blind to admit that he was easily manipulated. If he had answered that phone call, there was a good chance he'd follow whatever Fisk asked. Dex was untethered, no star to point him in the right direction. The compass facing anywhere but North. 

“I don't know what you want me to say. The bastard definitely ordered the story. There was nobody else conscious to witness what happened.” 

“But why? There's always a reason with him. You did something. Or he wants something from you.” 

“ I didn't fall to my knees and lick his boots like everyone else. I treat him like the piece of shit he is. So he took everything from me.” Dex shrugged. 

The man huffed, clearly expecting more. 

“Sorry I don't have some juicy underground crime gossip. Fisk never shared his secrets with me. Who the hell are you, anyway?” 

The man hesitated. 

“It doesn't matter.”

“It does. You don't get to go poking around without giving something back. It's a give and take, ninja. Perhaps I can be of more use to you.”

“How?” The man's curiosity was piqued again. 

“I can call Fisk back. If you tell me what your goal is here.” Dex really didn't care. He was just enjoying this little game, liked having something to do again. The man paused at the reveal that it was Fisk at the end of the line.

“Fine. I'm trying to get him back in prison, not in a fancy hotel.”

“And your name is?”

“I'm not giving you my name, Benjamin.” 

“Well, mine is Dex, for starters.” 

“Mine isn't ninja.” 

Dex picked the gun back up from the table and turned it around in his hands. 

“I don't have much else to work with here.”

“I'm Daredevil.”

Dex gave a predatory grin. The devil of Hell's Kitchen. 

“I thought you were dead. Where's your little horns gone?” 

“I've been laying low. My suit was destroyed.” 

Dex eyed the outfit he was in now. The black cloth would offer no protection, but it left little to the imagination. 

“I like this one better.” 

The Devil ignored the comment. 

“Are you gonna call him? I don't have much time.”

Dex hummed and picked up his phone. He was slightly curious to find out why Fisk was calling him at this time. Just as he was about to hit call there was a knock on the door. 

“Expecting anyone?” Daredevil asked. 

“No. But at least this intruder knows how to use a door.” 

He stood up, taking the pistol with him. He held it up against the wood as he slowly cracked the door open. The Devil had receded into the shadows in the corner of the room. An older man stood out in the hallway. 

“Can I help you?” Dex asked, ever polite. 

“I was sent here to do a wellbeing check on behalf of my employer, sir.”

“And who might that be?”

“Wilson Fisk.” The answer was expected. Dex saw the Devil shift slightly in the corner of his eye. 

“You can tell him I'm doing just fine. The concern is not appreciated.”

“He called and you didn't pick up. He was worried about you, Dex.”

“Don't lie. Don't call me that. You can tell him to fuck off and to stop getting in the way of my life.” 

“He wants to help you, Dex. To break you free of this cage. To be the best version of yourself. There's something I need to give you, something you need to do. Can you do it for him, Dex?”

Lie. Lie. Lie. 

Truth, another voice wanted to believe. 

Dex didn't answer with his words. He figured pulling the trigger was enough. 

Chapter Text

When Matt decided to show up at Agent Poindexter's house, he didn't really have a clear plan in mind. He just knew Fisk was up to something, as always. He had gotten his fancy cell, but anyone would be a fool to think he was planning on staying there. Poindexter had seemed like the best option, a weak link who would be feeling betrayed at his suspension. 

He did not expect the scene he had walked into. 

Perhaps he should have done some background research on Poindexter beforehand, but every minute he wasted was a minute Fisk used. He was quickly learning that Dex was less than stable. 

And now there was a dead man in the hallway. 

He hadn't anticipated it. Dex’s heartbeat was calm, steady the whole time. He had given no indication that he would pull the trigger. Not even a brief twitch of his finger gave it away. Matt had no time to act. 

He moved quickly, shoving Dex against the wall and grabbing the gun from his hands. The man let out an almost hysterical laugh. 

“I'm gonna have to replace the door.” 

“You idiot. Why did you do that? He could have been useful.” Matt didn't think arguing against the actual act of murder would be useful right now. Dex had already killed people. And Matt didn't feel like giving a life lesson right now. 

“He was working for Fisk. And he was irritating me.” Dex replied. 

“You kill everyone that irritates you?” 

Dex shrugged. 

The iron from the dead man's blood was sharp in the air. The bullet had gone straight through his heart. Small mercies, he supposed. Matt widened his senses beyond the apartment building. The man had mentioned wanting Dex to do something, which would probably have given a clue to what Fisk was planning next. The man had arrived in a car, parked out on the road, the engine still hot. 

“You couldn't have at least waited until he explained what he wanted?” Matt growled.

“Nah. What if I said yes?” 

The pity Matt had felt for the man had all but fizzled out. He had a strong urge to punch him. So he did. 

Dex didn't fight back. He just took in a sharp breath, and then Matt could sense him smirking. 

“Do it again. C’mon.” 

Matt huffed and pushed backwards, disgusted, releasing Dex from the wall. He stepped out into the hallway, over the body. 

“You're gonna have to clean that up, Benjamin.”

He felt Dex’s presence behind him. 

“Where are you going? We were starting to have fun.”

Matt ignored him and continued down the hallway, and then outside to the car. 

He could sense a solid box in the backseat. There was thick fabric inside, armour perhaps? He considered breaking the window, but suddenly had a better idea. 

He tilted his head at Dex, who had followed him out like a lost dog. 

“Go back up and get his car keys.” 

Dex immediately complied. Matt smiled to himself. The man was clearly not well, but he seemed eager to please. Dangerous in the wrong hands. 

There was a voice in Matt's head wondering why he was giving this killer so much grace. Perhaps some small part of him was still feeling pity for him. Matt had been in a similar situation recently. But another part of him felt that Dex had a bigger part to play in all of this, and he just had to let God's plan unfold, for better or for worse. 

Please, this time, just let it be for better. 

Dex returned with the keys and unlocked the car. Matt went straight for the box, opening it up. He paused. 

“It's your suit. I'm assuming you can't see well out of that mask. It's okay, I can narrate-”

“Shut up, Dex”

The man clamped his jaw shut. 

It was a replica of his old suit. The horns were sharper, more pointed. The armour was slightly thicker. It wasn't his size. 

What the hell was Fisk playing at? 

Then it hit him. The Bulletin. So Fisk wanted…what? For Dex to put on his suit and pretend to be him? It would ruin his reputation, and remove the threat of Evans exposing that Fisk paid him for the stabbing, if Dex was feeling volatile. Matt had no doubt that he would be, and wonders what would have happened if he hadn't come here tonight, and Fisk had reached the man instead. 

“It's not mine.” 

Dex took the mask from his hands and placed it over his head. Perfect fit. 

“Does it suit me?” 

“No.” Matt snatches it off him. 

“He's clever, isn't he? He'd ruin you without killing you. Make people think you're a monster.”

Okay, so Dex had caught on to what Fisk planned. Probably not the full story, but he certainly wasn't stupid. 

“I don't think you're a monster, Dex. Don't let him turn you into one. Go back inside, clean up your mess, and block his number. Play your cards right, and you'll be accepted back into the FBI. But not if you do this.”

Dex swallowed and gave a short nod. He trailed back over to his apartment building, not before turning around and muttering one last simple word. 

“Thanks.”

Chapter Text

Dex stood in his apartment, contemplating what to do next. He had scrubbed the hallway clean, the scent of bleach and antibacterial spray heavy in the air. The body was a more difficult problem. He had decided to shove it in the boot of the car. If Fisk's men came looking, it would send a message, at the very least. 

He'd have to figure out what to do about the bullet hole in the door tomorrow. It was unlikely that his neighbors had even noticed or cared about what had happened; he chose this area for a reason. He huffed with frustration, his mind searching for stimulation. Everything was in its place, the mugs adjusted to perfection, the chairs pushed neatly beneath the table. Nothing to do. Perhaps he should disinfect the kitchen again…

He knew he should just go to bed. It was late. He was not sticking to his routine. But that was already messed up with his suspension anyways. No, he needed to do something. His brain itched, the wasps buzzing around his skull. They had fallen silent after he shot the man, but they were back with a vengeance after what had happened outside. He wants to know what Fisk wanted with him in the devil’s suit. Dex did not like uncertainty. He did not like unknowns.

The Devil knew what it was, Dex could tell by his reaction. He knew it was something to do with killing, that's what he was good at after all. He just didn't know who Fisk wanted dead. It would have to be in a public place, no reason for the suit otherwise… it was clear Fisk wanted a reaction, not to sweep it under the rug. He tapped his foot against the ground, irritated. He could reach out to someone in the FBI, they would know if something was going on. Nadeem? Would he give classified information to Dex? 

Fuck it. He would pay Nadeem a visit tomorrow. The man would be less cooperative if he showed up at this hour of the night. Dex crossed the living room into his bedroom. He took off his clothes methodically, neatly folding them and placing them in the laundry basket. He took a quick shower, scrubbing the sweat and blood from his skin. He was still restless. The pill bottle in his cabinet somehow glared at him through the wooden door. He gave in to its gaze, swallowing one of the strong sleeping tablets that he kept for his worst days, and knocked himself out. Peace at last. 

~~~~~~

The sound of birds chirping filled Dex's ears as he stepped out of the car. The air here was fresh, unlike the heavy smog in the inner city. Ray lived in a nice neighborhood. Dex wondered if perhaps that's what he was doing wrong. Maybe if he lived somewhere pretty instead of a shithole he'd be nice too. He laughed at himself. Obviously fucking not.

He was hoping to catch Nadeem before he headed into work. Lo and behold, the man stepped out of his front door a second later. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. 

“Dex. What are you doing here?” 

“I wanted to know if there's any updates on the Fisk situation.”

“You know I can't disclose that with you, Dex. I trust you, but I can't risk it.”

Okay, so he knew something. 

“Come on, Ray.” Dex tried to make his voice soft. 

Nadeem sighed and started walking towards his car. 

“I'm going to be late.”

“He called me last night.” 

Dex watched as Ray froze with his hand on the car door. 

“About what?” 

“He wanted me to do something for him. I…hung up before he said what it was.” He leaves out the fact that he hadn't actually answered the call. And the little details of the Devil and the man in the hallway. 

“Well, you should have kept him talking. How am I supposed to know what he wanted?”

“I wasn't in a listening mood, Ray. My life is falling to shit. I didn't need to make it worse by listening to that bastard speak.” 

Nadeem stood silently for a moment. Deciding if he was going to give whatever information he had. 

“Do you have any idea what he might've wanted? I need to know what to expect. You know he doesn't like rejection.”

“Alright, fine. There's something going down at the Bulletin today. The man that shanked him in prison is giving a statement, and I agreed to hear it out on the condition that Murdock hands himself in. His friends are adamant they never worked for Fisk, but he's the one Fisk explicitly mentioned.” 

Dex hummed. 

“You think Evans is lying.”

Nadeem sighed.

“I hope to God he is, Dex. Otherwise I let Fisk play me.”

Dex decided not to comment on that. 

“It's happening right now?”

“Later. I can't tell you more, Dex. I know you want to get back on the FBI, but you can't just show up.” 

Dex gave a short nod of thanks and began to walk away. 

“Did you figure out what he wanted?” Nadeem called after him. 

“I think so. Keep an eye on Evans. I don't think Fisk wants him leaving there alive.”

~~~~~~

Dex decided he would stake out the Bulletin. His pistol was tucked in his jacket, and he had a ski mask in his pocket. He hadn't decided yet if he was actually going to leave the car. Would Fisk have found somebody else to cause a scene? They wouldn't be in the Daredevil suit, unless he had spares laying around. 

Wait, is the other one still in the car? He assumed the real Devil would have taken it with him, which left him a little disappointed. The suit was made to fit Dex, after all. 

He watched as a group of people entered the building. He had done a bit of research while he was waiting. Karen Page, Franklin Nelson, and the one with the red glasses and cane was Murdock. Something about him set an itch off in Dex’s brain. Jasper Evans walked beside them, his eyes glancing around nervously. He obviously expected Fisk to take revenge for the exposure. He couldn't possibly believe why Evans would agree to this. 

A few minutes later, Nadeem showed up with another agent. So far, nothing seemed to be going wrong. Dex hoped whatever happened in there would get Fisk thrown back in jail and the investigation into Dex thrown aside. 

Something caught Dex’s eye. There was another man watching the building, making it incredibly obvious. Not as good at stalking as Dex was. His eyes kept darting around, and he shifted unevenly on his feet. There was a gun in his left pocket. A gun in the hands of a nervous man was much more dangerous than in the hands of a nervous one. Fisk mustn't have had enough time to find someone competent. The man began to walk towards the building, and Dex silently got out of his car. He put the mask around his neck in case he needed to pull it up quickly, and shifted his cap to cover more of his eyes. 

He followed the man silently. He didn't even notice. Pathetic. He trailed him through the building, which was strangely empty on the bottom floor. They reached the bullpen upstairs, where reporters were clacking away on their keyboards, the sound instantly making Dex grind his teeth together. Focus. You need to make sure Evans stays alive to give the statement. He pulled up his mask. 

The man reached for his gun. Evans was in a separate office, Dex could see him through the glass, speaking to Nadeem. Dex took his shot before the man could even lay a finger on the trigger. He heard screams around him as the body hit the floor. He was already moving quickly away when Nadeem burst through the door to see what had happened. He doesn't know what the FBI will make of it, and he doesn't care. He took out the threat. Maybe they could connect the body to Fisk somehow. 

As Dex calmly fled amongst the commotion, he saw a quick flash of red and felt a strange twinge, as though he was being observed by something predatory.

Chapter Text

The next few days passed by in a strangely calm manner for Dex. He had expected to be chased down, or for Nadeem to at least question him as he was the only other person who knew what was going down. Instead, he was left alone. No FBI at his door, no Devil climbing through his window. He felt unsettled by it. What had happened after he left? 

He kept an eye out for any news on Evans. Nothing. So he was either dead or they had to retake the statement. Dex didn't care. As far as he was concerned, he had sent his message to Fisk. 

He felt unsettled. 

There were eyes watching him. The wasps swarmed in his head, and ants crawled under his skin. He wanted to squash each and every one of them. He had scrubbed himself raw in the shower, but he still felt dirty, dirty, dirty. He tried to ground himself. 2,3,5,7,11,13,17,19,23. Prime numbers. No, they didn't help. The wasps were too loud. They never knew when to shut up. 

He had been doing so good. With his routine, his structure. He wants to be good. He wants to be accepted. The abandoned child within him screams and thrashes for it. He knows he will never be normal. He wants it anyway. 

He pressed at his temples. He thinks briefly that Dr. Mercer would have been proud of his progress. Not anymore, he had killed two people off duty. No excuse, Dex. 

He needed to get out of the apartment. He changed quickly into his running gear and stepped out into the crisp air. He found himself following a familiar route, shoving slow people out of his way. If they were mad, they wouldn't be fast enough to catch him anyways. He sees familiar red hair up ahead. 

Julie. 

He had really fucked things up with her. He had his chance to be friends with her, but he slipped up. He didn't mean anything bad by the stalking…he just didn't know how to approach her. She was so good, so kind. His opposite in every way. Maybe he can explain, fix things. Yes, having a North Star helps. 

It would be weird if he called after her, right? But how else would he get her attention? He wishes Mercer were here to guide him through the social norms that seemed to come so easily to everybody else. 

He decided to catch up with Julie instead of screaming at her from afar. Yes, that would probably be weird. 

“Julie” he tried to keep his voice non-intimidating. 

“Dex? I told you to leave me alone.” The sick, twisted part of Dex revels in the expression of fear on her face. 

“I'm sorry, just hear me out, please? I just want to explain myself, and if you never want to see me again I'll understand.”

She seemed to think about it for a second. Dex took a step back to give her space. 

“Okay, Dex. Please don't lie to me.”

He was slightly shocked that she wanted to hear him out. If he was in her shoes, he certainly wouldn't. Dex felt suddenly overwhelmed, and spilled his thoughts out clumsily. 

“When we worked together at the suicide hotline, you were always so kind and understanding to everyone. I- I need someone like that in my life right now. I have no friends, no family, I lost my job, and I was happy to keep my distance but then you recognized me at the hotel and I scared you and I didn't want to and-”

Julie put her hand on his arm, and Dex realized he was hyperventilating. 

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry-” 

“Dex. It's okay. Just breathe. Copy me.” 

He forced his chest to expand and contract in time with Julie's. He had fucked it up again, hadn't he? 

“Why don't we go for a coffee? I believe you, Dex, but I wish you would have just reached out to me. I'm always going to be there for an old friend.” She smiled sweetly at him. 

Friend.  

The word felt so unfamiliar, and so important. 

“Okay. Thank you for listening to me.”

~~~~~

The conversation they had at the cafe was nice. Dex explained his situation a bit more, told her about Dr. Mercer, and how she recommended a North Star. He tried to make it clear that Julie had no obligation to speak with him again. He had ruined enough nice things. 

For example, he bleated like a fucking goat in the middle of the conversation. 

He heavily contemplated suicide again after that. 

But Julie had given him her number, and said he could reach out if he needed to. But no more stalking. Which was understandable. He thinks he'll still get pizza on Tuesdays anyway. 

Chapter Text

Matthew stood in the tense silence in Foggy’s apartment. He still wasn't on the best terms with him and Karen, who was currently pacing up and down the room. Surely they understood, now? Why he kept his distance? Danger followed him everywhere, snapping at his heels and biting those who dared to associate with him. The shooting at the Bulletin was making him regret asking for their help. 

“It just doesn't make sense. Who would have had eyes on Evans but to protect him?” Karen questioned. 

Matt knew who it was. Had recognized the steady heartbeat and clean scent immediately. Agent Nadeem had recognized him as well, but had sworn up and down that the FBI didn't have anyone there undercover. Matt could tell he wasn't lying, and he seemed shocked at what had happened too. 

“ A new vigilante type? They must have an inside source to have known about the deal.” Foggy replied. 

“No, it's…” Matt sighed, trying to wager whether he should tell them everything. 

“Look, I went to visit Agent Poindexter the other night, you know, the one who was suspended. Fisk was calling him and wanted him to do him a favor. He had a car sent and everything, with a replica of my suit. I'm assuming he wanted Poindexter to shoot up the Bulletin in it.” 

“Shit. Okay, that confirms it was Fisk. Not that there was any question about it.” Foggy remarked. 

“He didn't take the offer then? So Fisk got somebody else.” Karen asked. 

“No, and he made sure Fisk knew he was rejecting him. Poindexter was the one at the Bulletin. Must have found out through Nadeem.” Matt said. 

“Okay, okay. Let's just put Poindexter out of mind for a second. Any idea who Fisk's man was? Or how we can connect them?” Karen was always the rational one. 

“No idea. I'll visit Nadeem soon, see if he's been identified. For now, there's not much we can do other than hope the next meeting goes more smoothly.” Matt walked over to the window by the fire escape and slid it open. 

“Just…keep yourselves safe and out of trouble, alright?” 

He heard Foggy shake his head and mutter “Such a hypocrite.”

~~~~~~

Matt decided to keep tabs on Poindexter for the next few days. He wanted to know if the man had any other plans regarding Fisk, or if he would just stay out of it now. So he listened to him from a rooftop a few blocks away. 

Poindexter followed a strict routine. Wake up at the same time every morning. Shower. Get dressed. Make the bed. Make breakfast. Clean up, until everything was perfect and pristine. After that, his activities could differ. He no longer had a job to keep him busy. Sometimes he would run errands, following the same path around the store each time. Other days he would go for a jog. And sometimes, he would do some sort of work or research on his computer. Matt could only hear the keys clicking, and it was impossible for him to tell what Poindexter was looking at. And then, at 7pm on the dot each evening, Dex would make his dinner. Wash up. Watch the news for a while. Shower again. And go to bed. 

So, nothing suspicious as far as Matt could tell. But one day, Dex seemed antsy. He went out for his usual run, but struck up a conversation with a woman named Julie. They had history. Dex sounded desperate, vulnerable and…broken. Matt couldn't help but feel pity for him, even though he knew he shouldn't. He was a murderer, showed no remorse, and had let slip that he was stalking Julie. 

And yet, Matt saw him as a reflection of himself, in a way. What he could have been. 

The two of them had sat down for coffee. Julie seemed friendly. Hopefully she could offer Dex some form of support, but she was in danger by being around him after he pissed off Fisk. Matt still needed to be sure of what his motives were. So he started off towards Poindexter's apartment before he left the cafe. 

~~~~~~

Dex was feeling much lighter after his conversation with Julie. After they had parted ways, he went to go buy ingredients for a new recipe he wanted to try. With all his free time, he had started cooking more complex meals than the plain vegetables and grilled meat he usually made. He found it to be enjoyable. Cooking was an equation, with steps to follow. He was good at that. 

Tonight he was making chicken and chorizo pasta. 

He noticed the air was off as soon as he stepped through his newly replaced door. The devil was lounging on his couch. In his filthy suit. 

“Get up. You're getting it dirty.” He growled. 

The man huffed and stood up. 

“Well, you took your time getting home. I was resting my legs.” The black-masked figure replied. 

Dex glanced at the clock. 7pm. He needed to start making dinner. 

He unpacked the ingredients and set about chopping the onions and peppers. 

“You want some? Must be hungry if you were waiting on me all day.” 

The man seemed taken aback. He smirked and replied, “Are you trying to butter me up, Poindexter?” 

“ The way to a man's heart is his stomach, yes? Now should I make two portions or not.” 

In reality, he didn't give a shit if the devil was hungry. He'd just feel uncomfortable if he was the only one eating if the man was planning on sticking around for a while. 

“Sure, why not? Just don't put any poison in there.” 

Dex pointed the knife at him. “Don't give me any ideas.” 

He added oil to the pan and let the vegetables sizzle. 

“What do you want this time?” 

“Just wondering why you decided to show up at the Bulletin.” 

Dex tilted his head. 

“I was helping. I saved the witness. I ruined Fisk's plan.” 

“That doesn't mean you have to kill somebody, Dex.” Daredevil replied. 

He added the meat to the pan. 

“What does it mean, then? Doing flips and shit? Evans is alive, Fisk got the message.” 

“If you kept the shooter alive, he might've talked.” 

“He also might have killed someone useful.” Dex argued. 

The Devil sighed. 

“Are you going to interfere again?” 

Dex grit his teeth at the choice of words. 

“If he gives me a reason to.” 

He started boiling the pasta. 

“Who was the girl?” 

Dex froze. How did he know about Julie? 

“What, you're jealous? She's just a friend, don't worry.” He tried to hide the unease in his voice. The bastard had been following him and he hadn't noticed. 

“If Fisk finds out about her, she'll be in danger. He'll use her against you.” Daredevil states the obvious.

“He already has. He already knows.” 

Daredevil strode closer to him. 

“Then why the fuck are you getting her into this? You know he'll hurt her.” 

Dex slammed his fist on the counter. 

“He won't! I'll kill him. She's good, I need that. I need guidance, or else I'll…” Dex exclaimed. 

“You'll what?” 

“I'll hurt people. I'll hurt myself. I need a North Star. To point me in the right direction.” 

“She's innocent Dex. Defenseless. Can't you find a therapist instead of putting a target over her head?” 

“I'll pour this boiling water over your head if you keep talking about it, shithead. Don't think I won't.” 

“I'm just stating the facts. You pissed Fisk off, he'll want revenge.” 

“I can look after Julie. It's fine.” 

“What's her address? I can keep an extra eye on her, if you want.” 

“Your eyes can't see shit in that mask.” Dex rattled off the address to him anyways. More protection couldn't be a bad thing. 

There was silence for a few minutes while Dex stirred the ingredients together. 

“So…a North Star, is it like a sort of moral mentor?” 

Dex chewed on the inside of his cheek. He didn't know why he kept opening up to this man. 

“Kinda, yeah. I try to be like them. To be good.” 

“You can't be good on your own?” 

“I don't know how. I'm not…normal. I don't feel human like everybody else is.” Dex replied. 

“There's humanity in us all, Dex. Some more than others, maybe. But beneath everything, it's there. In your soul.” 

“Yeah, sure. Who taught you that one, God?” 

The Devil shrugged. 

“Religion can be a refuge. A comfort when you feel lost.” 

“It never did shit for me. They tried to force me into it at the orphanage. If God was real, I'd hate him for the life he gave me.” 

“Okay. But my point still stands.” 

Dex scooped the pasta into two bowls and set them on the table. 

“No poison. You saw me making it.” 

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” 

They started to eat. 

“Do you get to choose your North Star? Or is it someone you just fixate on?” 

“Hmm, I suppose I seek them out. Julie was always so positive and kind. Happy.” 

“But can you follow someone else?” 

“I guess so.” Dex was confused by the question. 

The devil just hummed. 

“This is really good, by the way. Maybe if the FBI doesn't work out you should become a chef.” 

Dex practically preened at the praise. 

“Thanks. New hobby.” 

“It's better than murder, anyway. Do you bake?” 

“No, I don't really have a sweet tooth.” Dex had never seen the appeal in sugary things. Although he did like a good milkshake. 

“Shame. I love brownies.” 

“I'll keep it in mind for the next time you decide to break in.” 

Daredevil smiled at him. Dex had the sudden urge to see the rest of his face. No one had ever leaked his identity, though. And he probably wouldn't be happy if Dex just ripped the mask off. 

“Well, thanks for the food. I have another visit to make tonight, so I have to go.” He brought his bowl over to the sink.

“Can you check in on Julie on the way?” Dex asked. He had promised he wouldn't stalk her again, and he didn't want to go against that so soon. 

“Yeah of course. I doubt Fisk would have moved so fast if he had to settle for someone so messy at the Bulletin.” 

“Hopefully.” 

Chapter Text

The rain was pouring from the clouds, soaking Matt's thin suit. He missed the armour; it was uncomfortable in the summer, sure, but at least it was waterproof. He was leaping across rooftops on his way to visit Agent Nadeem. He had decided to go there first and check in on Julie on his way back to the church. 

He silently prayed that Nadeem would be cooperative so he could have an early night. Today was one of the most pleasant days he's had in awhile, but the bar was pretty low. Poindexter had surprised him with the dinner. When Matt was tracking him, the food he made had always smelled amazing, flavorful but also clean and healthy. And to a man like him who ran on cheap takeout, it was like eating at a five star restaurant. He had not been lying when he suggested that Dex become a chef, he had real potential. 

He set his thoughts of the complex man that was Poindexter out of his mind as he reached Nadeem’s house. He paused and listened. The kid was upstairs asleep, his heartbeat steady and relaxed. Nadeem and his wife were in the kitchen, arguing quietly about money. There's a basement. Matt decided to creep down there through an open window at the back of the house and make some noise to draw the agent down. 

He grabbed a bottle from the small refrigerator and threw it on the floor, listening to the glass shatter against the concrete. The argument upstairs paused as the couple held their breath.

Matt heard Nadeem mutter a quiet “Stay here” and his footsteps approached the stairs. He had his gun held in front of him. Matt stood in a shadowed corner, only revealing himself when Ray reached the bottom of the steps. 

“Hey, I'm just here to talk, and then I'll be out of your hair.” he said as the man raised his gun. 

“What are you doing here? This is- my family is upstairs. You better have a damn good reason.” 

“I wanted to know if the FBI has identified the man that was shot at the Bulletin.” Matt replied. 

“I can't tell you that. But you're going to keep asking anyway.” Nadeem sighed. 

“Yeah. Just a name. Please.” 

Matt heard the man grit his teeth. 

“Some nobody called David Cavanagh. No crime record.” 

“Any connections with Fisk?” 

“Not that we know of. The guy was clean as a whistle.” 

The universe could never make his life easier, could it? Either Fisk had scrubbed the guy's past, or he really was a random who was threatened into doing it. Matt would bet his money on the former. 

“Alright. Thank you.” 

“Yeah. Just go.” Nadeem gestured with his gun. Matt took the hint. 

~~~~~~~

Daredevil then made his way over to Julie's apartment to do a quick check on her. He perched on the rooftop opposite her building and broadened his hearing. From what Dex had told him, her apartment was on one of the higher floors. He located the heartbeat of a young woman walking through the hallway, tapping away on her phone. That's her. But there were two other heartbeats present. Both men. And they started to move in behind her. 

Shit, shit, shit. 

Matt didn't know if he could get there in time. He tried anyways. He jumped across to the building and broke open the roof access door, leaping over the stairs quickly. He heard one of the men pull something from their pocket. He reached Julie's floor the moment the man stuck the needle in her neck. 

He threw out a punch at the guy closest to him, and then smashed his face into the wall. His nose crunched and Matt could hear the blood vessels popping. The other man had come in behind him and aimed a hit that was easily dodged. Matt was honestly surprised they didn't have guns on them. Fisk was getting sloppy and desperate. 

Another punch took out Mr. Broken-nose, and Matt slammed the remaining man into the wall with his arm across his throat. He tried to block out the man's rasping breaths as he listened for Julie. Her heartbeat was getting weaker. He rammed his head into the others and let him fall to the floor. 

Matt's knees scraped against the ground as he knelt beside Julie. He tapped her lightly on the cheek. 

“Hey, hey, come on…” 

She was unresponsive. Whatever they had used was strong. Each beat of her pulse was struggling more than the last. Matt knew he couldn't get her to a hospital in time. He would have tried, a few years ago maybe. But now he's learned to recognize when something is hopeless. Maybe if he had come here before visiting Nadeem she would still be alive...

“Sorry, I'm sorry” he sobbed.

She was gone. 

Matt felt overwhelming anger. Another innocent caught in this mess, for what? Fisk having a tantrum that he wasn't listened to? She was such a bright soul, Matt could tell that much from when he listened in on her and Dex. Fuck, I'm going to have to tell Dex. 

He picked himself up from the floor and drew in a shaky breath. He dug a phone out of one of the men's pockets, a burner, and sent a quick call to the police. He just gave the location and what had happened. He didn't want the men to wake up and do whatever they had planned to Julie's body. He gave them each another kick in the head for good measure. 

It would be best if he just broke the news to Dex now. So much for an early night. 

~~~~~~~

A quiet tap, tap, tap at the window woke Dex up. He had always been a light sleeper. It had its pros and cons. Waking up in the middle of the night because a dog was barking in an alley nearby was irritating, but at times like this it was useful. He was not surprised to see who it was making the repetitive noise. Who else but the devil? Perhaps Dex had really pulled the trigger and went to hell where he belonged. At least this guy didn't have hooved feet. 

He groaned as he stood up and walked over to the window, pulling it open. He turned his back to find a t-shirt while the man in black squeezed his way through. 

“I haven't actually had the time to make the brownies yet. You only left a few hours ago. I value my sleep.” 

“Yeah, uh, sorry, I just thought it was best if I came now.” Daredevil was being awkward, dancing around whatever he came here to say instead of being direct as usual. Dex liked that about him, he just came out with things. 

“Say what you came to say, or let me go back to sleep.” Dex mumbled. His patience wasn't exactly stellar on a good day, but wake him up while he was actually getting a decent sleep? It was non-existent. Another minute of this and he'd consider throwing things. 

“I went to check on Julie” he paused and took a breath. “Fisk got to her.” 

Dex felt cold. The sensation traveled up the vertebrae in his spine and spread to each of his nerves. 

“She's dead?” 

“Yeah. I'm sorry, Dex I-” he was cut off as Dex slammed him into the wall. 

“You said you would look out for her. You told me you would.” 

“I tried! Whatever they used worked too quickly, I couldn't get her help in time.” 

Dex slammed his fist down onto the man's cheekbone. The wasps had returned to their nest in his head, swarming angrily. He was drowning in the ocean with no North Star to guide him to shore. 

“You told me! You lied!” He screamed. 

“I know. I should've gotten there sooner.”

“I need her. I need her light. You let it go out. Fuck.” He pressed his palms against his ears. He should listen to one of Mercer’s tapes. 

Daredevil placed his hands on Dex’s arms and pushed him back. 

“I know it's hard. Losing someone you care about. I try to save everyone but sometimes I fail, I just- I'm really sorry. But Fisk will pay.” 

Dex felt tears pricking at his eyes. He hated it. And he wasn't upset for the reasons the devil thought. Sure, he liked Julie, she was pleasant to be around. But the main reason for his meltdown was the loss of his moral guide. A constant he could always look to. Not anymore. Everyday since the FBI started babysitting Fisk his progress was destroyed piece by piece. 

“I'll kill him.” 

“That's not the way to fix it.” 

“No, it is. You won't do it. I will. I have to.” How could Daredevil not see it? That prison clearly didn't fix shit? 

The man in question raised his hand up to Dex's cheek and gently brushed away a tear. He hadn't realized that they were steadily pouring down his face. He didn't say anything else. 

Dex suddenly had a bright idea. Maybe his best one yet. 

“Let me help you take him and his men down.” 

“What? No, Dex, I work alone. Besides that, you'd just kill everyone. I don't agree with it.” 

Dex huffed. 

“Fine. I'll only injure his lackeys. But I get to put a bullet between the kingpin's eyes. You know you could use the help.” 

“No, I already told you, you aren't doing that-” 

Dex cut him off. 

“I know you want him dead. I know it. You just won't take the leap, but I will. Let me do it for you. And I'll do it anyway. Only with a lot more casualties. It won't be pretty.” 

“So…what? You want me to supervise you?” Daredevil sounded genuinely confused. 

“Yeah. Julie wouldn't want all that death. I want it, but I have to be good, right?” 

Daredevil paused. 

“Right. And I think you can be, but…” 

“Please. I'll be useful. I can help. I need something to do. I won't get in the way. I'll do whatever you ask.” 

“So you wouldn't kill Fisk if I told you not to?” 

Dex pressed his lips together. 

“Anything but that.” 

That got a small laugh from Daredevil. Cute. 

“And you'll get involved no matter what I decide?” 

“Yes. And trust me, Devil, you won't be able to stop me.” 

“Alright. How about I think about it?” 

Dex groaned. It was better than a no, he supposed. 

“Fine. But don't ponder for too long.” 

Daredevil paced back over to the window. 

“I'll try.” He replied. And then, softer, as he was halfway out the window:

“Will you be alright alone?” 

“Yeah, I'll be fine. Don't worry about me.”