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Daredevil isn’t blind. Daredevil is the man without fear, a ruthless guardian on the streets of Hell’s Kitchen. Never blind.
Matt Murdock is blind, however. Utterly and truly.
He doesn’t trust the Avengers. Especially Tony Stark, the man with the means to ruin him, all with the snap of his fingers. Yet, he’s been summoned to the Avengers tower after deciding that fighting Doombots in New York was 'not' a waste of his time.
So, when he arrives in the med bay, as dictated by SHIELD, he’s nervous.
Copying the other Avengers, he goes to an empty bed (the one beside Clint) and sits, pointing his head at his hands and trying to keep it still so that he appears to be looking at his billy clubs.
The nurse does make quick work of inspecting his ribs and tells him he’s badly bruised but nothing more, nothing he didn’t already know, but he’s more concerned about the fact that Hawkeye is dragging him into what feels like a storage cupboard, but is more likely an elevator.
His suspicions are confirmed when the room drops slowly, putting him on edge. The doors open into an expansive flatness, with several shapes dotted around the room. In the entire are two couches, he recognizes immediately.
It’s his first time actually being in this part of the Avengers Tower, despite his honorary membership. So the buzzing in the walls is new to him, as is the landscape, so he makes an attempt to remember the layout.
A woman is also in the room, crouching down to reach a shape on the floor. He hears the movement of fabric and her steady heartbeat, but not much else.
“I’ll get you something to wear – it’s movie night and you’re not skipping this time!” Clint insists. The sick feeling in Matt’s gut, once dread, turns to guilt.
He likes Clint. The man is funny, relaxed, and a little odd, which only works in his favor. Lying to Hawkeye feels like something he’s supposed to repent for. Maybe he can buy the man some chocolates.
He rubs his head through the mask, an ache forming in the middle of his forehead.
”Are you even really blind?”
The question ripples in his head. Of course he is. Of course he’s blind. He can’t see. No light perception. He knows Foggy didn’t mean it but it hurt, especially in moments like these. When he’s reminded how blind he really is.
“Get comfy. You ok?” Hawkeye hands over a bundle before wandering over to the couch on the left, sprawling out.
“Yeah… Here?” He asks as he realizes the bundle is spare clothes for him to wear, figuring it comes across as nerves, not confusion.
“Shy?” Romanoff asks. He turns his head to her blankly, wondering why she’s standing so still.
Then he realizes Natasha was also changing out of her tight suit, making him instantly turn his head away, for show. Embarrassed, he changes out of his suit, keeping the mask on, and into what feels like denim jeans and a t-shirt.
“You’re joining us?” A voice asks as it walks through an open door. “Awesome! Pop a squat.”
Matt grimaces, trudging over to the couch. Reaches halfway before he kicks something and promptly stumbles, but keeps his footing. He senses a table, but he rounded the table top. It’s only when he sits down, Clint laughing at him, when he notices that the feet of the table are pointed outwards.
His face burns with embarrassment as his fists ball up.
Couldn’t he trust the Avengers? Why does everything have to be a secret?
Clint makes room for him before slumping over his lap like a cat, feet dangling off the end of the sofa.
Scratch that. He thinks as he longs for his cane.
“Jumps off of buildings but trips over tables.” Tony comments. “I love it.”
“Play nice.” Romanoff warns him. “Where’s Cap?”
“De-briefing Bruce.” Tony replies. Makes a movement; shrugging?
“What are we watching?” Clint asks as Romanoff sits under his legs, making him sprawl out over her and Matt. Clint’s steady heartbeat travels through his lap and buzzes through each limb.
“We agreed on Disney this week.” Tony sighs, then tilts his head. “How about Prince Charming? You can make parallels.”
“How about Aladdin and you can take notes?” Romanoff scoffs. “This is Matt’s first time, let him choose, Boys.”
Matt feels his blood drawing away from his face and hears the squishing of saliva being squeezed down his throat. He tries to think of one he’s actually seen, knowing well that discussions will arise, knowing Clint. “Jungle Book?”
“Righty-ho, Jarvis, you heard the man.” Tony says to no-one in particular.
To Matt’s interest, the buzzing sparks in several different places around the room.
“Of course, Sir.” A voiced recording responds. The voice is synthetic, like his text reader, but much clearer and coherent, complete with the correct tone.
The collective whirlwind of noise, however, is enough to make Matt’s jaw drop.
Laid before him is the room’s layout, empty voids where furniture is presented. Matt looks around quickly before looking directly at the closest source of sound.
“Is your helmet x-ray or something?” Tony jokes. “How’d you know Jarvis’ main speaker is there?”
“I was just looking.” Matt says, forcing the words out and trying to shrug without tension in his shoulders.
They’re left in mute suspense until Banner and Cap return from the med bay. Quietly, they greet everyone, sensing the tension which fades when the movie starts playing.
“Many strange legends are told of these jungles of India... but none so strange as the story of a small boy named Mowgli. It all began when the silence of the jungle was broken by an unfamiliar sound. It was a sound like one never heard before in this part of the jungle. It was a man cub!” The movie narrates.
“I love Bagheera.” Clint claims excitedly, propping himself up so he can eagerly watch the TV. Matt finds the flat thing on the wall and points his head at it, listening over the noise of Stark’s workers bustling around three floors down.
“The tiger.” Matt recalls.
“The panther, Dude, he’s on the screen.” Clint laughs, brushing it off. Matt frowns, trying to remember who the tiger is. Banoo?
“Bruce, seen any talking cats in Kolkata?” Tony asks.
“I wasn’t in the jungle.” Banner answers, as if that was the inaccuracy. Tony just laughs in response as the movie rolls on.
“Aww, cute! Let’s get one!” Tony exclaims before Cap scoffs. “Tony, you don’t take care of yourself, much less a wolf.”
“Alright, Captain Party Pooper.” Tony says, sounding disappointed.
Tony leaves the room for a second, returning with something crinkly and rancid. He offers the food around and Clint takes a packet of something, making Matt’s lap smell of artificial cheese.
“Just leave him there, why don’t’cha?” Tony complains.
As no-one else is reacting, Matt assumes they’re talking about the movie.
“He’s a cat, he would have ate him.” Romanoff reasons. “Let’s not question the exactness of it.”
About halfway through the film, Matt’s thoroughly lost. He was convinced that the tiger, Baloo, was the villain, but he and Mowgli are singing with other characters while the others mention something about monkeys and he’s pretty damned sure that he fell asleep when he watched this with his father.
“You ok?” Clint asks as Matt clenches his teeth. No-one else answers, so Matt answers, hoping he’s the one Clint’s talking to. It’s difficult, considering Clint’s face is already pointing at him.
“I’m fine.” Matt sighs, trying to wrap his head around the singing and the mysterious monkeys. Are the monkeys singing? The wolves? The elephants?
“You’re not really a movie guy, are you?” Clint says, his tone sounding sorry.
“Not particularly.” Matt answers stiffly.
“’Cause you’re kinda squeezing my arm.” Clint points out.
Matt locates his hands on Clint’s bicep, pushing down hard on the skin without noticing.
“Sorry.” He grumbles, crossing his arms and accidentally hitting Clint in the face with his elbow.
“Man, what is going on with you?” Clint groans as he moves off of Matt’s lap, holding his face.
“I’m just,” Matt says, frustrated. “I’m not following it.”
He gestures to the film, wondering why he even cares. Though, the way Clint drapes himself back over Matt, albeit wary of his elbows.
“Well the monkeys must want Mowgli for some reason, that’s why they kidnapped him and brought him there.” Clint explains with a shrug. “Take it you haven’t seen this before either?”
Clint probably thinks he’s some anger management dropout with the way he’s acting over a film, even if he doesn’t comment on it.
Watching a movie with the Avengers, listening to them fill their guts with treats so jam-packed with chemicals that the smell makes him feel sick, and following along with their vague commentary; Matt hates every second of it.
But, at the same time, he knows exactly why he cares so much. Watching a movie with the Avengers, eating junk food and chatting; it’s exactly what he wants.
His friendship with Clint, while incredibly new, is one that he holds close to his heart. Having friendships with these people who know him so well, if only due to his line of work, means the world to him. It’s secret-less and more intimate than he promised himself he would allow.
“I thought I had, but I don’t remember.” Matt says, running out of energy.
He reaches up to the back of his head, undoing the ties that kept his mask securely in place. He slips it off, tosses it to the floor at his feet, narrowly avoiding Clint in such close proximity.
“Does it come with audio-description?” Matt asks, for lack of an explanation.
The catchy singing and background noises stop. The movie’s been paused.
“You’re blind?” Clint asks in surprise.
Matt smiles self-consciously, aware that his eyes can be off putting. After all, he doesn’t direct them at anything.
“That’s what they say.” Matt says, regretting his actions when none of the other Avengers make a noise. “My name’s Matt Murdock.”
He feels Clint’s hand burrowing on his head, moving through his hair.
“Red hair. It suits you.”
“You jump off buildings!” Tony exclaims out of nowhere. Matt can hear his heart rate spiking.
“My other senses are heightened.” Matt explains. Then, to avoid making the same mistake: “I’m NLP, no light perception, but I get an image of my surrounding through my other senses.”
“Like echolocation?” Banner asks, sounding quite pleased.
“Yes, but I know other things.” Matt shrugs, feeling his heart beating against his chest. “You ate pizza last night. You and Rogers had cheese, everyone else had pepperoni.”
“No shit.” Clint says from his lap. Matt gives an awkward smile.
“Enough, can we play the movie?” Tony says before calling up to the buzz in the walls. “J, you got audio description?”
“Indeed, Sir.”
“Then let’s play.”