BEING ALIVE

STRANGER DANGER

The cyanide acted all too quickly. Matt could smell it, hidden in a fake tooth, before even jumping down from the roof to join the fight. He listened to the kid let out a string of curse words then get up and begin to walk away. If it wasn't for his footsteps and the rustling of—was that kevlar?—Matt wouldn't have heard him leave at all.

"Wait." The vigilante called out. The footsteps stopped. "I can help you."

"I highly doubt that," Leo said. "Besides, I've just been told I have to 'do my damn research,' so I'm gonna go do that."

"I know about The Hand," Matt said quickly before he could start walking again.

"Let's say you do." Again, there was some rustling. Leo crossed his arms. "I still don't trust you for shit. I don't even know you."

This kid was alone and scared and hiding behind a false bravado. Matt knew what that felt like, to act like nothing was getting to you while all you knew was that you didn't know anything. He knew what it felt like to be thrust into an entirely new world and be completely and utterly lost.

"I'm your safest option right now."

"You just spent a Friday night beating people up."

"Okay, fine," Matt said with a sigh. "I'm relatively your safest option. I know you don't trust me, but you're, what, sixteen?"

"Seventeen."

"Seventeen, and you're about to mess around with The Hand. Alone. If you ask me, that's not the smartest idea."

Leo threw his arms up in frustration. "What even is The Hand? And why the hell do they have my sister? And why the fuck do I keep blacking out and killing people?!"

"Wanna yell it a little louder? I don't think the police precinct heard you."

"Whatever." He muttered.

Matt contemplated for a few seconds. What he was about to do was reckless, stupid, and possibly too sympathetic, even for him. Stick would be laughing his ass off. Well really, he'd be yelling at Matt for hours on end. But at the end of the day, this kid needed somewhere safe. "Why don't you come with me?"

"Where? Why?" To Matt, Leo seemed like a snake. Jumpy, apprehensive. One wrong move and you're dead.

"My apartment. Because I have a first aid kit and some ibuprofen, and you have an open wound."

After looking down at where he was bleeding from where a bullet had grazed where his shoulder met the crook of his neck, Leo didn't say anything for a long time. Didn't move for a long time either. Again, from what Matt could, or rather couldn't hear, it sounded like there was no one there at all. "Fine."

---

They traveled by rooftop. Daredevil seemed to know the area like the back of his hand. He seemed so sure. Leo followed close behind. In fifth grade, he remembered being called into the gym with the rest of the school. The police were there a mere two days after one of the third graders had gone missing, telling everyone not to follow strange adults to unknown locations.

Whenever Leo thought about the concept of betraying one's inner child, he hadn't ever thought about something like this. 

Once the vigilante had stopped moving across rooftops, Leo realized that he was one building over from his apartment. He could, in theory, have just gone home. To his apartment with no electricity. And no heat. In the middle of January.

He sighed and followed Daredevil down the fire escape and through the big glass window. Even with the lights off, Leo could tell there was not much to this place. It was decently big, sure, but it was haunted by a certain emptiness. He suddenly realized that there were no pictures hung on the wall. No memories on shelves. Not even a calendar on the fridge.