Uh huh.

“Sorry.” He says through thin lips, accompanied by a gentle nod of his head.

“Matt Murdock.” Matt extends a hand out to them, aimed just somewhere in the middle. “Nice to finally meet you.”

Late to a meeting.
Bruise under his left eye. Hopefully the glasses cover most of it. Stings like hell.

I’m sure it’ll work itself out.

Unfortunately no, blindness does not lead to mind reading.

But I can hear real well. And I hear a crack in your voice that sounds like Foggy when The Mets are losing.

You need to do what’s best for you.

Spider-Man. -sigh-.

As your sometimes Lawyer and friend, I advise against suing the citizens of New York for wearing your face on a shirt.

I also advise against being our mascot.

I advise, more than anything, for you to take a break.

That seems unlike you, Spidey.

Spider-Man. No lawsuits? Right?

New York.

So busy when the holidays come lurking.

No, heh, no. I meant strong as in. .you know. Strong. Personality - - courage, leadership. All of it.

The teen walked with an unsteady, somewhat lurchy gait back into the cell, which she promptly collapsed into, sinking directly into her knees and then onto her side, her pink hair draping over her face.

Strong.

“We’ll get you one - -“ Just the guard comes. Alerting them break time is over, and that she’s needed back in her cell.

“We won’t leave you, we’ll be back. And we’ll help you through this. I promise.”

She’s beyond stressed - - he can practically 𝙨𝙚𝙚 it on her. Even if he can’t. She radiates with a rhythm he hasn’t ever known - - sure, a meta - human himself. .but to meet one with such power was. .overwhelming to his 𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙚𝙨.

“Diana?. .” Matt dropped it. “Yea, we can. Fisk wants this, he wants everyone to think you’re some other worldly threat and the only way to 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙥 you is to have you behind bars or. .𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙚. We need to prove to them all that you’re trustworthy.”

“Like Thor?” Foggy says with a grin. “Foggy.” Matt correct. “Okay, we can build with that - - the world is. .evolving. Giant green men and guys from the 40’s are being discovered in ice. It may fly over a normal persons head. But we’re far from normal.”

“Can you start from the beginning? You said you didn’t exist. What do you mean?”

“It’s a little.” Matt says, fixing his tie. Summer in New York was never easy. But it wasn’t as hot as she was making it out to be - - he could hear her heartbeat, there wasn’t a faint on the rise. But he couldn’t help to wonder if this was all too much for her.

Before he walks over, and opens the sliding bars. “Fine.” He says. “Court yard is to the right.”

Matt offers her a hand, although his head is titled forward, with eyes that seemingly look down. “Come on.”

Foggy pleads, the officer babbles back that she’s a threat - - that Fisk could’ve been hurt, and no one as good as Fisk deserves to be hurt. “Well that’s fine and dandy, but when she convulses in this cell, who’s going to help her - - you?” Foggy scoffs. The officer and he share a tense moment.

Heart beat. Focused in - - irregular. He can almost hear her pupils stretch, the sweat carve down the side of her temple.

“No. But you’re close to a panic attack. I need you to take a breath, take a moment.”

“Officer our client needs air, she’s barely even an adult, do we have to hold her here?”

Waking up - - sore. Of course sore. Didn’t see the baseball bat coming to his side until it hit - - The Kitchen Irish refuse to unsettle.

Just then, the guard returns with a bottle. Matt holds out an empty hand, not 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 the guards way.

Then, handing it to her. “You’re our client now. We 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙘𝙩 our own.”