Chapter Text
Dex glances to the clock on his night stand, eyes twitching involuntarily. 10:30 it reads. He thinks over the plan he had curated. Wonders if Frank will go along with it. Then he goes over the plan in his head 6 more times.
He throws on some average civilian clothes and slips out of his room, the door shutting behind him with a quiet click. He inches his way through the living area. As he walks through the kitchen to the corridor that leads to the elevator, the sound of the television makes him pause.
He glances back and sees Bob sat on one end of the couch reading a book and John on the other. Arms folded over his chest as he watches some show Dex couldn't name if he tried.
"Where you going?" Bob questions while looking up from his book. John startles, his eyes glancing over from Bob to Dex.
"Just going for a jog. Get some fresh air," Dex replies with practiced ease, plastering one of his infamous smiles on his face.
Bob nods and looks back down at his book, not pressing any further. Seemingly just believing him. John on the other hand squints his eyes at Dex and watches him as he walks out of the room.
Dex lets out an exasperated sigh as the elevator doors close. He counted as the floors dropped. He glances over to to the security camera in the corner of the elevator. A devilish smirk forms on his lips. Dex lifts his hand from his pocket, thumbtac between his fingers and waves at the camera before flicking it directly in the center of the lens.
The elevator doors soon open and he struts out of them, overly joyed with his destruction of Valentina's property. He was tired of authorities telling him what to do and leading him astray. He didn't quite trust his own judgements on who was trying to manipulate him and who had actually good intentions. Thats why he need Matt to guide him. Show him what and who was right.
Dex decided that the walk to the meeting spot was too much of a headache when he wasn't dissociationing the whole time. So he walked into traffic. He picked up a pretty girthy stick and chucked it at the first guy on a motorcycle he saw. The guy yelped and was flung from his motorcycle. The motorcycle slid about another thirty feet before stopping, sparks flying as the paint rubbed off on the asphalt roads. The guy landed awkwardly on the concrete sidewalk beside the road. At least three broken bones in his arms alone. His head was bleeding too and he probably had a concussion too.
But at least the guy wasn't dead. This is not his problem.
Dex waltzed over the motorcycle and picked it up, he grimaced at where the paint had scratched of. His mouth twitched up, but he ignored it and hopped onto the vehicle anyways. Driving off at full speed to his desired location.
The time it toom to get there took less than half of what Dex remembered. But of course that could just be the fact he actually did get there faster.
He hopped of the motorcycle, storing it away under some boxes in a dark alley way. With no sign of Frank in sight, he climbed up onto a rather dilapidated looking balcony. As he waited he grabbed chunks of concrete from a broken pillar beside him and tossed it towards the wall in front of him, making different little cracks in the wall his 'targets.'
"Jesus, you can't fucking sit still can you?" Frank scoffed while emerging from behind trash cans in a way that should not be possible.
Dex frowned and jumped down from his rather comfortable spot on the balcony. "Hello to you to, Castle." He scoffs, approaching him with caution.
"Alright you psycho, you ready for this?" Frank grunts, turning towards the way he came.
Dex nods begrudgingly, following him through the dark alleryway. The sky starts to open and rain starts to drizzle from clouds, masking them in both scent and sound as they shuffle into Frank's van.
....
Consciousness is more of a concept to Matt right now.
His eyes flutter open, tears pricking his eyes as tries to gather his surroundings. The world around him sounds muffled, like he's drowning. Some part of him notices hands wrapped around his shoulders holding them- no, more like pulling them.
He groans and lifts his head up, the pain in his shoulder amplifies by ten and he is struck with a tsunami of nausea. His feet are being dragged against something hard, and for a fleeting moment he realizes that he's being dragged somewhere.
He closes his eyes, a cough erupting from his lungs. He hears a voice, Leo, different from the one hes used to. "Get him in the fucking truck." He growls to who Matt can only assume is carrying him.
He feels himself being lifted up and tossed up onto a metal artificial ground. He tries to sit up, to gather some idea of his surroundings, but it feels like his insides are being ripped apart cell by cell. Bile forms in his throat.
"Where the fuck is Powell." Leo growls to the guards.
Matt tries to hone in on their heartbeats, he can hear how many there are but thats about it. Just two guards and Leo.
Matt feels the urge to throw up. What had Leo given him? How long did he have? His fever had surely gotten worse, and he felt spacey.
Three more heartbeats appeared, Matt realized a lot later than he wanted to.
"Leo, sorry to keep you waiting. The transport drivers took their sweet fucking time to get here." Powell said, announcing his presence.
Leos scoffed and waved him off. "I don't care, let's just get this over with." He grumbled and jumped up in the van and sat on a seat above Matt.
Matt tried to listen to everyones heartbeats trying to figure out a way to get of this. But every plan he made.. only ended in a worse scenario. He opened his eyes again, head pressed back against the hard metal of the van floor. Tears dripped down the corners of his unseeing eyes.
Powell got in the back as well, strapped with a rifle over his chest. He grabs onto the back van doors and slams them shut.
Matt can feel the vibrations in the floor as Powell walks beside him, practically feel his eyes bearing into him with glee. He chokes on his on saliva as the van abruptly starts, the strength of the motor making the vehicle feel like it was trembling. Or maybe that was just Matt.
He closed his eyes as the van pulled off. They seemed to be wanting to keep him alive, why else would they actually take him somewhere? Why go through all this trouble if he was just going to die? They must have not given him enough to actually kill him or have an antidote on them.
His mind started to blur time together and Matt was beginning to question if wither of his assumptions were true. He could hear Powell and Leo talking indistinguishably, but he couldn't hear it over the sound of his own ears ringing. He couldn't stop the cough that tore from his lungs and left him gasping for air, every breath burning him deeper.
He coughed up blood, but from the way he was laying the only thing he could do was helplessly choke on it. He felt a boot press into his spin and his body get pushed onto his side. The blood spilled from his lips, no longer entering his lungs and giving him early stages of pneumonia.
So his earlier assumption of them wanting him alive must be true. They must need him for something. Or the just want to keep him alive to torture him later. Both seemed equally likely at this point.
The van haulted to a stop and shut down, but the trembling still persisted, so he was trembling. His muscles her contracting underneath the skin, his whole body ached as he resisted the urge to cry out.
The back doors opened and revealed the drivers, he assumed. The heartbeats from the front of the van were missing so it was only likely. He felt hands take him from the van, but this time they were a bit more gentle. More mindful of wounds and sensitive parts of his body, not dragging his bare feet against harsh surfaces.
"Yo, where the fuck are we?" Powell questioned one of the drivers. The one that wasn't holding onto him.
"Mh, not sure. You tell me. We just followed the coordinates you sent us." The second driver responded too calmly, a shrug aiding his point.
Matt's back was pressed back against the driver's chest. His head fell back, his body felling limp. He could hear the man's heart beating steady behind him- well no. Actually it was beating kind of fast. Surging with adrenaline and fear. For just a second Matt thought it sounded familiar.
Matt hummed, his mind focused on the constant thud, thud, thud, from behind him. His mind relaxing, the sound calming his nerves as his mind seeps into darkness.
"Goddammit, hes fucking shaking." The guy behind him mumbled under his breath.
Matt faintly heard a rapid fire of gun shots and distinct grunts, punches and the sound of broken bones. He must of lost consciousness at some point cause he woke up on the ground. On the cold hard concrete ground.
He heard to voices. Men. Familiar, kind of.
"Alright Red, this is gonna hurt like a bitch." He heard a man mummble. Then he felt something stab into his leg.
"F-Fuck" Matt stuttered as something ripped open the flesh of his leg. His muscles spasms slowed, his jaw clenching as tears stain his cheeks.
___
Dex stared down at Matt's barely conscious body, he lets out a huff of air as Matt's body stops convulsing. Frank stays at Matt's side as he yanks out the antidote he had conveniently found in the glove department.
The grouchy old man groans and sits up, rubbing his head. He jumps when he sees the sets of hardened eyes on him. "Yo, yo, yo. Hey. I didn't even want to poison him for real. It was all Powell's idea."
Dex growls at the man's words. He grabs onto his hand gun immediately, storming over to him. He presses the barrel to the man's forehead.
"Hey man, I have a kid. A sweet daughter. She's only 15 years old." He mutters, swallowing hard. Dex cocks his gun. "Fuck- I'll do anything. Anything you want. Murder someone? You got it. Fuck I mean I'm already on my knees if you want me to-"
"Stop fucking talking." Dex barks, moving the gun down to shoot him in both his shoulders.
Leo screamed and cried, his arms going limp as he collapsed.
"D-Don't" Matt whispers with brittle strength. Frank's eyes narrow, forming a scowl on his face before looking at Dex to see how he'd react.
Dex snaps his head over, eyes locking with Matt, swallowing hard. "Damn you Murdock." He mumbles, his voice hoarse. "Of course you don't want me to kill the guy who almost-" His voice breaks. He can't say it.
Dex bites his lip, turing back to face the disgusting old man who could only be Leo Vance. "You are a disgusting old man." Dex spat. He holds the gun back to his head. It would be so easy to pull the trigger. To blow his fucking brains out. To kick him even after he was dead.
"Poindexter." Matt growled, sitting up slightly. Frank moved back a bit and stood up, eying Dex subtlety.
"What Matthew?" Dex spat out his name, not looking away from Leo, his hand shaking. Matt didn't respond, just kept trying to sit himself up.
A shot was heard.
Leo laid dead on the concrete.
"Having to clean up you're messes again." Frank grunted, letting his hand thatbwas now holding a pistol drop to his side.
Matt let out a disgruntled noise, sinking back to the ground. "Goddammit Frank." He grumbled, resting his head back on a coat Dex had discarded. "You know, at least Dex listened." Matt huffed, barely audibly.
Frank rolled his eyes, mumbling "Whatever Red." He picks up the loose weapons and tosses them into the van.
Dex's heart rate spikes, a slight stutter in his breath at Matt's word. His shaking hand stilled, the buzzing in his mind calming. Matt was safe.
Frank rounds the side of the van. "You're in the back with Red, make sure he doesn't die will ya?" He more so announces than asks.
Dex barely nods, just one slight jolt of his head. He looks over to Matt, his mind numbing, being the quietest its been since in a long time.
He inches over and bends down to help Matt into the van. "Don't fucking touch me." Matt whines, it was more of a weak protest than a command.
Dex huffed and continued on, "The Caveman will throw a hissy fit if I don't ensure the package's safety." He grunted out, sarcasm dripping from his tongue as he hoisted Matt up and walked him over to the van. Matt growled but didn't protest anymore, and Dex had a feeling he was to weak to care right now.
He eventually gets Matt into the van. Tucking the coat that Dex had perfectly folded, under Matt's head. He then stood and shut the back doors before moving to hit the wall between the front seat and the closed off metal box that was the back of the van. Alerting to Frank that they were ready and secured.
They were not in fact secured, Dex quickly noticed after Frank started driving. He was pretty sure Matt had fallen asleep, or something close to it. Because with every movement of the van, his body thrashed, back and forth.
"Hey careful up there!" Dex shouted, but after a couple of minutes with no response he was sure Frank didn't hear him. So he did what any rational person would do.
He lifted Matt up gently like he was something fragile, like one abrupt movement would kill him. For hands that have only been violent, being gentle felt weirdly nice. He rested Matt beside him in one of the seats, allowing Matt's limp head to take refuge on his shoulder.
Dex let out a breath he didn't know he was holding when he was done re-situating them. He held onto Matt tightly, acting sort of like a seat belt.
...
Matt woke up in a bed, an honest to God bed. He lets his eyes fall open, even though it didn't do much. He listened in and heard a distant heartbeat. Trying to sit up he felt the agonizing pull of his muscles, he stilled and laid his head back down letting out a defeated cry.
"Red, you awake?" Frank questioned while walking into the room.
Matt let out a huff, half annoyed by Frank's presence, half greatful. "Frank? Why-" He started coughing abruptly, his hand flying up to brace his abdomen. "Why am I here?"
Frank handed Matt a glass of water, "Because your little cellmate tried to kill you. And that dirty fucking cop- uh Powell was it? Attempted it many times before."
Matt sighed, drinking the water generously, taking large gulps. "You- hah, you have you take me back." He gasped laying his head back down.
"Oh don't you fucking dare give me that self righteous bullshit." Frank grits out of clamped teeth. "You're are a hair away from death right now, so shut the fuck up before I finish you off."
Matt let a little chuckle escape his lips as he lets his eyes drift back close. He listens in on the man's heartbeat, recalling the events from earlier. The heartbeat from earlier. Fast and heavy with fear and adrenaline, that wasn't Frank's, it was-
"Where's Dex?" Matt spoke up, his voice a little more stern than before.
Frank raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk tugging on his lips. "Back with those freaks that call themselves avengers. Says he's tryna do the right thing now." He growled, rolling his eyes. "Didn't believe it untill he helped me break you out."
Matt just hummed in response. To tired for anything more. He would figure out what Poindexter's ulterior motive was later.
Frank watched Matt for a moment, watching as his breaths evened out. He stepped away, kinda baffled he had fallen asleep so quickly, and continued on with the task he had been doing before Red had rudely interrupted him.
....
Dex tried slipping back into the tower quietly, but you could only be so quiet with the elevator. He was covered in blood, missing his jacket, his hair was disheveled and there probably was a bullet wound in him that he hadn't taken care of.
He steps out walking through the kitchen and past the sleeping bodies on the couch that hadn't really moved an inch from earlier. Then made his way to his room.
One of John's eyes peaked open as Dex walked by, his eyes widened before shutting them all together.
Once he was sure Dex had left the room he opened his eyes and repositioned on the couch. "Fuck it.." He mumbled, shutting his eyes again. Whatever the fuck his problem could wait til the morning....
....