FRANCIS FOREVER, daredevil

3. missing bikes and broken noses

YALL PRESENTING FRANCIS' NEW BEST FRIEND OTIS IN THIS CHAPTER. He's a sweetheart who just wants his bike back.

Also Matt and Francis fluff!! (Enjoy it while you can)

IT WAS THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT when Fran woke up. The clock on her bedside table blinked 3:57 AM in big, red numbers. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and looked around her dark room, still feeling groggy. She reached out for her dad, only to find the other side of the bed cold and empty.

Matt wasn't home. Karen wasn't there anymore, she left yesterday.

This wasn't the first time she'd woken up in the middle of the night and found him gone. Sometimes he would leave late at night, saying he needed some air, and by morning, everything would be back to normal. Usually, Fran wouldn't worry; she trusted her dad with every fiber of her being. He was Matt Murdock—blind lawyer by day, and apparently, a man who liked late night strolls.

But as she lay there in bed, staring at the ceiling, something about tonight felt different. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but a gnawing feeling of unease settled in her stomach. Sighing, she decided to get up and grab some water, hoping it would settle her nerves.

But tonight, as she sat up in bed and listened to the quiet apartment, that knot of worry tightened a little more.

Fran shuffled out of bed and padded quietly down the hall. She checked the time on the clock in the living room—it was just past three in the morning. She frowned, gnawing on her bottom lip as she made her way to the couch and curled up with a blanket, waiting. Her mind drifted, trying to convince herself that he was fine, that he'd be home any minute like he always was.

And then, the familiar sound of keys jingling and the front door creaking open met her ears. Her head snapped up, and she watched as her dad stepped inside, his movements stiff and deliberate. Even in the low light, she could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he winced slightly as he shut the door behind him.

"Dad?" she called out, her voice still thick with sleep but laced with concern.

Matt turned, surprised to find her awake. He quickly forced a smile, his usual calm demeanor slipping back into place as he approached her. "Hey, Fran. What're you doing up? You should be asleep."

Fran ignored the question, her eyes narrowing as she took in his appearance. The first thing she noticed was the fresh cut on his cheek, a thin line of dried blood trailing from it. Then she saw the bruises—dark, angry blotches on his jaw and around his eye that hadn't been there before. Her heart dropped into her stomach. "What happened to your face?"

Matt's smile faltered for just a second, but he quickly recovered, waving a hand dismissively. "Oh, this?" He pointed at his face as if it was nothing. "I fell."

Fran stared at him, deadpan. "You fell?"

"Yeah, you know... stairs, curbs, furniture—things get in the way. I am blind, y'know." He added a playful tone to his voice, hoping to ease the worry in her eyes.

But Fran wasn't buying it. She knew him too well to fall for that excuse.

"Dad, come on," she said, folding her arms across her chest. "You expect me to believe that?"

Matt chuckled softly, reaching out to ruffle her hair. "It's the truth, kiddo. Sometimes these things happen. You know me—I'm always running into stuff."

Fran's frown deepened. She was no stranger to the fact that her dad wasn't like other dads. He had this way of being tough and invincible, but also quiet and secretive. And as much as she wanted to push him for more answers, she could see the exhaustion in his face, the strain he was trying so hard to hide.