HELLHOUND

VIII. It's a Hustle

NOTE: Before getting into this chapter (SO sorry for the wait, BTW!), please understand that I currently and will always support Palestinian liberation and freedom from genocide. If that upsets you, I'm not even a little sorry. Any attempts to argue about whether or not it's a genocide or anything similar will not be tolerated. Educate yourself, then come talk to me. If you'd like some sources to do so, I'd be happy to provide some.
Currently, Disney (and, as a result, Marvel) is on the BDS (Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions) list after pledging $2m and further initiatives to support Isr*el. I know we're all excited about new shows either upcoming or airing currently, but if you have to watch them, maybe consider
alternatives. While I will continue to write Hellhound, I wanted my stance to be abundantly clear. There is an active genocide right before our very eyes, and it is sick beyond belief.

it's a hustle.

IT HAD been a week, and Matt was going crazy.

"Man, I know you've got that whole Catholic self-sacrificial thing going," Foggy whistled as he turned his phone off. "But this is ridiculous. I can't get him to budge. I even graciously offered a piece of strawberry rhubarb pie. I mean, who would turn that down?!"

'Him' was Artemis, who had been avoiding all members of Nelson and Murdock since the previous Friday night when he had posed as a member of the Russian Mafia. When Matt told him, in no uncertain terms, to stay out of his way. And to Artemis's credit, he was doing just that. Going above and beyond, even. Daredevil hadn't seen a single trace of Artemis out at night, tucked away in his apartment with Kotik (not that he was checking every night). Unfortunately, that included Matt Murdock (and, by extension, Foggy and Karen), as Artemis expertly dodged all attempts to talk.

Lunch invitations that had become commonplace were rejected—"Sorry, but I need to plan for my next lesson. Maybe later?"—and while Artemis was undoubtedly a busy man, Matt knew when he was lying.

One of his students seemed to have caught on—a young girl who acted as Artemis's shadow for two hours a week, her face scrunching into what must have been a scowl every time she caught sight of Matt. He had overheard Artemis chastising her for sticking her tongue out on more than one occasion.

"Yeah," Karen chimed in, closing the meeting room door behind her. "I don't know what happened, but Estelle is getting pissed. She won't stop complaining."

Matt sighed, rubbing a hand over his forehead. "It-it's my fault," he admitted, forcing a smile. "We had a... small argument—" he ignored Foggy's disbelieving scoff. "—but he'll come around. I think."

Karen snorted, dropping new files on the table. "I hope so. Apparently, he's moping like, and I quote, 'a sad wet cat.'"

♘

If anyone asked him, Artemis would say that he was not, in fact, moping like 'a sad wet cat.' In fact, he wasn't moping at all.

At least two others would beg to differ.