A very tired morning; Sharon & Matt (backdated)

[xp-friedlander.livejournal.com]

Sharon runs into Matt next morning.

Feeling like roadkill, Matt puttered about the kitchen for more coffee. Coffee fixed everything even if it did taste godawful. He had developed a tolerance for it in college and it had served him well in law school. Now, it was just habit. An addiction maybe, but he wasn't going to change anything.

"Coffee, coffee, coffee," he chanted, waiting for the machine to finish making noises and actually produce the beverage. Preferably quickly. Maybe it just needed a pep talk?

"Tell me that is done?" Sharon rubbed her eyes as she entered the kitchen. "And that it's strong." She headed over to one of the cupboards and produced a large mug. "Do you have a mug already?"

"Mug acquired. Coffee is thick enough to double as crude oil," Matt reported, "but not yet done. Alas. HURRY UP!" he yelled.

The machine did not listen as it percolated and brewed the coffee.

"Don't think that is going to work." Sharon commented drolly as she leaned against the counter. "Maybe you should use some sweet words." She studied him for a moment. "So what has you looking like something the cat just dragged in?'

No, it definitely wasn't working. "I'm a New Yorker," Matt pointed out somewhat needlessly, "I don't do 'sweet.'" An utter lie, but it sounded good. "Eh," he shrugged, "Out all night. You know how it goes. City that doesn't sleep. Your excuse?"

"Long shift at the clinic, helping out with an attempted mugging, which led to staying longer at the ER because they were so damned understaffed." Sharon eyed the clock. "Have another shift in three hours though... pretty much the only reason why I'm up right now."

"And they wonder about the state of our medical care," Matt hadn't expected that Sharon would get back about the same time he did! "How's Bonnie anyways?" he asked without thinking as he finally got his coffee and moved aside so Sharon could too as he breathed in the bitter warmth.

Sharon started pouring her own mug, not quite registering what he asked. When she did realize what he had asked, she put the pot down and whirled around. "What did you just say?"

"Hm?" Matt asked, backpedaling mentally. Oh shit. "What?" he asked, feigning confusion.

Very deliberately she first went for the coffee pot, finished filling up her mug, then took a long drought. Sharon did not care she practically scalded her tongue. "You mentioned the name Bonnie. Why?" She already knew how he knew, but she wanted to hear it from himself...

"Uh...." Matt scratched at the back of his head. "I did?" yeah. Play dumb. That'll work Mr. Lawyer. Idiot.

"Why?"

Craaaaap. "That's her name?" he finally replied, the statement said as a question, his futile attempts at playing dumb not serving him well at all. Not that he really thought it would. But there had been hope. Small and pathetic though it was.

"Why?" This time it was accompanied by the sharp look and iron tone in her voice that she used on her most recalcitrant of patients and that had made the soldiers under her stiffen back when she was a sergeant.

Matt reacted as if electrified, back going straight and shoulders square, looking a lot more like Daredevil despite his comfortable sweats instead of the exhausted man he had been moments before. "Because it needs doing," he replied, "because the cops are stretched thin enough as it is. And because that's my neighborhood."

"So you'd admitted it. Good." Sharon took another long drink from her coffee. "How long have you been running around in red leather? And since you asked, Bonnie checked out okay. They also hooked up with a counselor when she asked."

"It's polycabonite...something, ask Clint," Matt muttered. Damn it! "....a while," he replied finally. "A few years. And no, I'm not interested in joining the team here. Don't even ask," which was why he had kept things secret anyways. He also took great pains to keep the two separate so no one could connect him to Xavier's. "Glad she's going to be okay though."

"I wasn't even gonna ask." Sharon folded her arms and leaned back against the counter. "You know I haven't joined a team too. What I still don't get is why you let those idiots run. I know the type... it will happen again."

He nodded, agreeing, "Because everyone deserves another chance," Matt explained, "And half those kids never had a first chance, much less a second one. I catch them again, they'll wish they turned themselves in first," he paused for a moment thinking back to his dad, "I grew up in that neighborhood. Coulda been me, you know?"

"What stopped you from becoming them?" She commented after another thoughtful sip of coffee. "You might want to send them in that direction. Don't think scaring them straight is gonna be enough."

"My uncles, Clint," Matt replied, "After my dad was killed, CPS found I had an uncle in New York that I didn't know about. And he was gay and lived with his partner and their adopted son, Clint. Uncle Andre became my guardian and I moved in with them," he went to go get himself a second cup of coffee even though that was probably a bad idea, "Legally, Clint and I are cousins by adoption. We call ourselves brothers because we are."

"Sounds like good folks." She was quiet for a moment before adding. "I had my mom keep me on the straight and narrow. Friends would leave for the city or fall for the bottle. But mom kept pushing school was important."

He nodded, "They are. That was my dad. He didn't want me to end up a no-good boxer like him, made me hit the books, not the bag. And certainly not booze," not that he had been old enough to be interested in that yet, but it was beside the point, "This was before I was blind, I mean. Afterwards, it was all about learning braille so I could keep studying and not fall behind."

"She was very practical though. I had my nurse's aide certificate days after I turned eighteen. But she pushed me to add phlebotomist and EKG technician, which I did... I think she would have pushed for more, but then the army recruiter came by and that was that..."

 "So you became a military nurse?" Matt asked, impressed. He might've done something similar if his dad had lived and he hadn't gone blind. Of course, his father hadn't and he did, so it was a moot point now. "Military is a good way to get experience and education when you don't have a lot of opportunity."

"Just a 'plain' medic." Sharon corrected him. "But after my six years were up, I did get a grant that made it so I could to go to community college and get my RN. You haven't done bad yourself though. Aren't you a lawyer?"

Matt nodded, "I am," he agreed, "when I bother working, which...." he shrugged, "hasn't happened much recently. I've been trying to start my own practice with a friend," brother-from-another-mother, sometimes lover, the status 'it was complicated' on Facebook had never been truer, "so far though, we keep running into more roadblocks than expected. I'm....not sure it will happen, no matter how much I want it. I think I need to start applying for other positions now."

"Hope you find something quick when you start." Sharon nodded. "So, where in between all of that did you start running around dressed as the devil?

 "That was a while back," and had nothing to do with his lawyering, well, not entirely. "I used to run the roofs at night with my brother, learning my powers, being stupid. It's a family trait," he joked, "Between that and martial arts training and a teenage sense of invulnerability, I sort of fell into it. I didn't pick the name though. And things....evolved," and really, he liked it. It felt like he did good on a personal level, affecting the people in a positive way.

 "Wait, how long have you been doing this? When I came here first, I remember reading about several vigilantes, but I didn't hear anything about it in Rapid City." Sharon's eyes widened a little. It almost sounds like he had been doing this for years.

Matt shrugged, "Uh....a while?" he offered, "I mean, it wasn't anything coordinated or formal until a few years ago, but I've been running around for stress relief for years. Had to, it'd look weird if a blind guy was just jogging around New York City without assistance," and he could pass off his fighting with the martial arts training, but he never sparred with anyone except Clint outside of classes for years.

"Gotcha." Sharon nodded, filling that away as she finished her coffee and went to pour another mug. "I've to get ready for my shift, but I did want to say I'll keep quiet. You want any more coffee? Anything else you need?"  

"Nah, I'm going to head to my room and unwind," the quiet of his room was always appreciated after the noise and hubbub. "Thanks for not saying anything. I...well. Yeah," he didn't want to join the X-Men or whatever. And he liked what he had going.

"Of course." Sharon nodded at him. "See you later, Matt." After putting her mug in the dishwasher, she headed of.