#he won a mafia war he didnt even know About

[siriusblackisdead]

The fbi: Nathaniel, if you dont talk about your father, youre gonna go to jail…

Neil, holding a finger up: gimme a sec i need to check my husband

*Turns back to Andrew*: like i said, DID NO ONE TEACH YOU HOW TO DUCK OR WHAT-

[piratekenway]

Oooh, can I have hamdevil AU? I don't care what just anything for it. (Though I would love to see Matt and Hamilton fighting some issue out, with words)

haha OKAY. this is more “Hamilton gets rescued by Daredevil a few times and there’s ship tease” in general, whoops.

title: careful how you proceed

–

“I swear to fucking God, Mur–Daredevil,” says Alexander, “if you don’t put me down right now I am going to kick your ass all the way back to the office, just you watch me.”

Matt, underneath the mask, has the nerve to smile. Well, of course he can, it’s not like Alexander can follow up on that threat when Matt’s got him in his arms, and under normal circumstances, Alexander would be somewhat appreciative of Matt’s arms. But these aren’t normal circumstances.

“Your back might give out,” Matt says.

“Unlike you, I don’t do that parkour ninja bullshit,” says Alexander. “Also, fuck you, my back is fine.”

“I can hear it creaking, actually,” Matt mildly says.

“Your ass,” says Alexander, “the office.”

Somewhere behind them, a–well, Alexander’s not actually sure, and he peers over Matt’s shoulder to check–a guy in, hand to God, frog-themed armor is hopping after them on the ground. There are springs on his feet. His–webbed feet.

Sometimes Alexander loves the 21st century, and all the advances made since 1804 that have enabled more freedom than Alexander could’ve ever dreamed of.

Then sometimes it pulls shit like this.

“Why the hell do you get the lamest supervillains?” he asks.

“You should ask Parker about the White Rabbit sometime,” says Matt, casually, as he runs over a very thin catwalk and oh god Alexander’s just not going to look down. If he looks down, he’s pretty sure he’s going to have a heart attack and die again on the spot, and he’d much rather go out in either a blaze of glory or in bed.

The blaze of glory’s preferred.

“The what now?” he asks, keeping his eyes on Matt’s face.

“She threw rabid bunnies at him once,” says Matt.

Alexander gapes at him. Then: “So she saw too much Monty Python?”

“I knew letting Foggy show you Monty Python and the Holy Grail was a terrible idea,” Matt gripes.

–

A. Hamilton @adothamit’s official, this election is wilder than the 1800 elections #thatssayingsomething http://wapo.st/1QtUQmM

A. Hamilton @adotham@foreversherlocked SINCE YOU ASKED FOR EXAMPLES: TJeffs did not discuss dick size in a presscon (1/?)

A. Hamilton @adothamthe GOP’s newest embarrassment can’t even #talkless #burrisrollinginhisgrave (2/?)

–

A. Hamilton @adothamand half my feed and two of my coworkers have started referring to @tedcruz as a serial killer #explain (21/?)

–

A. Hamilton @adothamso IN CONCLUSION the monkeys have taken over the zoo aka the GOP, best election ever (48/48)

Casey W @foreversherlockedis it just me or is @adotham the guy who’s been writing to the Post under a Latin pen name #theanswerisyes

–

MATT:that explains the increase in rocks through your windowplease find better aliases alex

A. HAM:whats wrong with favonius

MATT:it sounds latindidnt you write under latin pen names all the timefind something less obvious

A. HAM:says the actual DAREDEVILalso i am hurt that you think i just pick names because they “sound latin”wikipedia is right there

MATT:blame the bulletin for that name i didnt choose itand also48 tweets?really??

A. HAM:i was aiming for 51 but then i got put in twitter jailalso you dont have a twitter how do you know that

MATT:you forget foggy and karen follow youthey were telling me the whole thingstop flooding karens feed she says she will actually murder you

A. HAM:nah she wouldntshe loves me

MATT:she says “try me”

–

The second time Alexander finds himself in Matt’s rather well-toned arms, it’s after someone decides to kidnap somebody connected to Nelson & Murdock to Send A Message. He’s sort of glad it’s not Karen they kidnapped, but then again, Karen once maced a guy because he put his hand on her thigh.

At the same time, though, it’s a blow to his pride that they picked him and not, y’know, the other two lawyers hanging around.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you liked playing damsel in distress,” Matt teases.

Alexander glares blearily up at him. He’s not sure what drug they got him with that everything’s still kind of hazy and blurry. He’s going to kick his kidnappers’ ass. Just as soon as he can stand. “Fuck you too, Daredevil,” he tells Matt. “Get me out of here so we can sue their faces off.”

Behind them, someone yells something in–well, Alexander’s not sure, but it’s definitely not a language he knows. Matt ducks just behind a crate, and Alexander hears a crack of a gunshot, sees something splinter beside them.

“You know,” Alexander says, “back in my day, lawyers didn’t get kidnapped and shot at. That, you saved for the actual war.”

“Yeah, well, welcome to the 21st century,” says Matt, laying Alexander down next to a crate and pulling his sticks out. “We’re big on equality here.” He cocks his head to the side, as if listening to something, then says, “You gonna be okay?”

“I survived the revolution and getting shot in the shoulder,” says Alexander, sitting up straight and wincing, because fuck damn but everything’s still spinning, kind of. “I can damn well survive your idea of a rescue. Which sucks, by the way.”

“It’s getting you out, isn’t it?” says Matt, with a cocky grin, and then he’s off.

Alexander leans his head against the crate, breathes in and out, and murmurs, “You better come out of this fight alive, Murdock, or Foggy’ll kill me.”

–

They come out of it alive.

Karen hugs Alexander so tightly he eventually has to break away in order to just breathe. Foggy hugs Matt–well, not that tightly, the guy needs his ribs, after all.

“Thanks, by the way,” says Alexander, once his scrapes and bruises have been attended to.

“I thought you didn’t like my idea of a rescue,” says Matt, holding an ice pack to his head. “You said it sucked.”

“I stand by what I said,” says Alexander, sitting down next to him and hissing softly at the jolt of pain through his side, now the drug’s worn off. “Every bit of it. But you got us out, and I’m grateful for that.”

Matt’s gaze doesn’t quite lock on him–instead, they’re focused on a spot somewhere to the right of Alexander. Months of working in close quarters with Matthew Murdock, but this is the first time, Alexander realizes, that he’s really had the opportunity to look closely at his eyes.

In this light, they look kind of hazel. They’re–pretty, Alexander thinks, and he can see why Foggy accuses Matt of somehow drawing all the girls to him.

The silence stretches on just a beat too long, before Matt grins, cocks his head to the side, says, “That mean I get a kiss?”

“I take it back,” Alexander says, shoving lightly at his shoulder. “Next time I get kidnapped, I want Spider-man to rescue me, ‘cause you’re a dick.”

–

After the case is won, the first thing that happens is that Foggy drags all of them out to Josie’s for an overdue thank fucking God you’re not dead party. They’ve been having that regularly, lately, and Alexander keeps finding himself as the designated Responsible One, but not tonight.

“I’m just–” he starts, then stops. “I’m just, look, I’m just sayin’–the world-buildin’ doesn’t make sense, at least in the prequels I knew why the Republic was a goddamn mess–”

“Tone it down,” Matt tells him. For once in his life, he’s the Responsible One, because Alexander’s hell-bent on getting blind (heh!) stinking drunk, because he deserves it after being kidnapped by mafia nutjobs looking to send a message.

For, like, the third time in as many months.

“The prequels were terrible,” says Foggy, three sheets to the wind. “I love you Alex but you are so wrong.”

“Hell no I’m not,” Alexander says. “Look, the script was shitty and the romance was shoehorned in, but goddammit you could see where the Republic was going wrong and how and why the Empire rose, okay–”

“Because there was a Sith Lord in charge and he engineered a war, which would’ve been convincing if he wasn’t so obviously evil–why would anyone trust him–”

“I’m not talkin’ ‘bout how convincing Palpatine was, I’m talkin’ ‘bout how he engineered the fall of the Republic and the Jedi by exploiting the flaws in both, flaws that could’ve easily been fixed–”

“Okay, okay,” says Karen, manicured fingers plucking the bottle of whiskey from Alexander’s grip, “I think I’ve heard enough. And I think you guys have had enough, if you’re arguing about Star Wars.”

“You’re a Trekkie, Karen, you don’t get it,” Foggy tells her. “And one day we shall tempt you to the Dark Side, with our–with our cookies! And our lightsabers. Lightsabers, Karen.”

“Or I’ll tempt you to the Federation,” Karen shoots back, grinning.

“Never!”

“Dorks,” Alexander stage-whispers to Matt, who gives a small huff of laughter, ducking his head, mouth stretching upwards in an actual smile. “Hey, look who’s smiling!”

“I smile plenty,” Matt argues. “Anyway, Karen’s right. You’re both very, very drunk, and we should be getting you home.”

“Aww, Matt,” Foggy groans.

“Matt’s right, we’re going to get you home before either of you puke on someone,” says Karen, hauling Foggy to his feet despite his protests of it was one time. “I’ll take Foggy, you take Alex?”

“That’ll be hilarious,” says Matt, with a laugh. “The blind guy leading the drunk guy down the street.”

“May I remind you of the parkour ninja bullshit you pull off on a regular basis, Matthew goddamn Murdock?” Alexander says.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Matt innocently says, and Alexander shoves at his shoulder. Or, well, tries to–he manages to shove at Matt’s face instead. Well, now he remembers why he doesn’t usually drink this much–his hand-eye coordination is shot to shit. He won’t be doing any writing tonight. “All right, come on, up.”

“I’m up, I’m up,” Alexander says, as Matt hauls him up. If he leans a little on Matt, that’s only because everything’s spinning and he needs some support, nothing more.

–

alcxhamms:guys guys GUYS

i think i just saw a dot ham and the murdock half of n&m stumbling drunkenly down the street and i am not sure how i managed not to squeal like a pig but like

they were

really

really

close

like ham had his arm around murdock and you know that #lams moment during the grammys that SET ME ON FIRE

it was exactly like that

#i was p far away so i couldn’t really tell what they were talking about but like #at one point ham was LOOKING INTO HIS EYES (and the sky’s the limit) #or like looking into his shades  #my point is #they were VERY CLOSE and i was very close to dying right then and there #i’m going straight to hell

–

“Hey, hey, watch out–pothole–”

“Yeah, yeah,” says Alexander, sidestepping and pulling Matt along with him. They look, frankly, ridiculous, swaying back and forth like a newborn giraffe, but Alexander doesn’t care. “Hey, Matt. Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“You gotta do this more often,” he says. “Taking a break.”

Matt huffs out a laugh, says, “That’s rich coming from you. You write like you’re running out of time.”

“Half the time with you assholes, I am running out of time,” Alexander says. “But also, I don’t show up to work bruised all to hell and back, like I went fifteen rounds with a seriously pissed off Hessian.”

“Ten,” says Matt. “And there were two of them.”

“See, when you say shit like that, I get worried,” Alexander says, grabbing hold of Matt’s shoulders to face him. “You’re an asshole, and your idea of a rescue sucks, but you’re my friend. You go down somehow–get arrested or get killed, whichever–and what do you think will happen?”

“You, Foggy, and Karen continue the good work Nelson & Murdock’s been doing,” says Matt.

“No, you’d break our hearts–and also possibly fuck us all over because of all the laws we’re breaking–but that aside,” says Alexander, stepping in closer before Matt can say something else, “that aside, asshole, it’s your name following Foggy’s on the sign. You’re important to us. And you’re important to me.”

“Huh,” says Matt, “you really are drunk, if you’re coming right out with that.”

“I am being heartfelt here,” Alexander tells him. “You were one of my very first friends when I got here. You’re a goddamn liar and you’re shit at doing it, somehow, but you’re my friend. You know how hard it is for me to keep those, and I want to keep you.”

“Foggy and Karen?”

“I wanna keep them too,” says Alexander, “but they’re sensible, they don’t go out every night to punch people in the face. You do.” He lets out a breath and says, softly, “Go out with us. Not all the time, but–sometimes. Let the city keep for a night, let the police do what they’re supposed to do for a night. Take a break.”

“Said the pot to the kettle,” says Matt.

“The pot’s not punching criminals in the face every night,” says Alexander.

“The kettle’s not mouthing off to gangsters and crime lords in the courtroom,” says Matt. “Not often, anyway.”

“I told Foggy not to tell you about that time!” Alexander says, with a huff. “Also you are distracting me. You always distract me.”

“Not always,” Matt argues, a corner of his mouth quirking upwards in a smile. Alexander wonders, suddenly, if Matt can hear his heartbeat speeding up, as if he’s a maiden on her wedding night. “I imagine it takes a lot to distract you.”

“You’re right,” says Alexander, relieved for the out. Then he ruins it by adding: “But you make it look easy. See, you’re doin’ it now, giving me that look, being all sly and coy–Matt.”

Matt covers his mouth up and coughs unconvincingly. “What look?” he says.

“That look! With your eyes! And your smile!” Alexander plants a hand on Matt’s face for emphasis, nearly sends the both of them toppling into an alley. “Now I’ve lost track of what I was talking about, you dick,” he complains, as Matt rights them both. “Where was I–oh, yeah, take a goddamn break, Murdock.”

“And when was the last time you did?” says Matt.

“Fuck you,” Alexander says, “do not make this about me.”

“I was not!” says Matt, holding one hand up, as if he’s swearing on the Bible before a court of law. “Hand to God, on my honor as a Catholic lawyer.”

“You beat people up at night,” says Alexander.

“On my honor as a Catholic lawyer vigilante,” Matt amends, which is hardly any better in Alexander’s opinion. “Seriously, Alex, your work ethic is intense enough that it scares me, sometimes. How do you find the time to do everything you’re doing?”

“I have a day planner,” says Alexander.

“Liar, I heard your heartbeat,” says Matt.

“Heartbeat detectors can be unreliable,” says Alexander, and Matt huffs out a breath and shoves lightly at him. “Ow! Dammit, Murdock, I’m almost fifty–”

“You are fifty,” says Matt.

“Almost,” Alexander stresses. “Anyway, I took a break this very night, so, ha.”

“Before tonight,” says Matt.

“Last Friday,” says Alexander. He pauses, searches through his memory for a second, then says, “Wait, was last Friday the 13th, or–”

“You’re thinking last month,” says Matt, holding him up. He turns his head just as they pass underneath a streetlight, and for a moment it’s as if Matt has been crowned with a halo of fire and thorns, burning brightly against the dark, an avenging angel come to render judgment. Or a vengeful demon, come to do some bloody work.

“Oh,” says Alexander.

Then Matt cocks his head to the side, says, “So I think this is your stop, I can smell your neighbors from here,” and he’s just plain old Matt again.

Oh, thinks Alexander, heart breaking again, because he has been down this road before, seen how men like avenging angels seeking freedom and justice come to violent ends, loved them so much it hurt to fall, fuck.

–

MATT:hey you up

A. HAM:i am in pain and someone needs to turn the fucking sun offits too bright im gonna die

MATT:i did tell you not to try for the eel yesterday nightremember anything about last night

A. HAM:god i dont knoweverythings blurry after foggy dared me to drink that last shotuuuuugh

MATT:if it helps he cant remember anything eitheryoull be pleased to know i managed to get you home without punching anyone in the face

A. HAM:holy shit its a miraclesomeone call the vatican

MATT:youre hilarious

–

The next time Alexander finds himself at Mepkin Abbey, sitting at Laurens’ grave, he lays a bouquet of white lilies at the headstone, then sets a half-drained bottle of wine upright next to it.

“My dear Laurens,” says Alexander, “I think–no, I know I fucked up.” He lets out a long breath, runs a hand through his hair, and says, “Have I told you about Matthew Murdock?”

–

end.