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It wasn’t his usual scene. He didn’t work with the Avengers. He didn’t even want to be seen with them. His city was Hell's Kitchen, and the Avengers tend to stay far away from them, save for a few members. Still, a new threat had appeared, and unless he wanted more damage done to his city, he decided he needed to show face.
It surprised him to find an invitation to their meeting. He honestly believed they would simply ignore him and life would continue, but apparently, a bird and a spider ratted him out. Parker offered his help (without consulting him beforehand), and Barton told the group he would agree (also without consulting him beforehand). He would need to have a chat with them later.
He considered not going. Ignoring the invitation and owning the lecture the other two would undoubtedly give him, but Foggy convinced him otherwise. He could still hear Foggy’s words as the tower grew closer. “No one has ever protected this city like you have. Peter does his best and I know Clint helps whenever possible, but this city is under your protection and it will continue to be overlooked unless you’re there to help. You remember the last invasion, Stark threw a bunch of money at us and assumed that’d fix everything! You can’t let that happen again.” He agreed with Foggy, but that didn’t mean he liked it.
He stopped a little way away from the tower. He refused to go through the front door. He wouldn’t allow Stark the benefit of getting anything from him by going through security. Front doors were a Matt thing, windows on the 10th floor were a Daredevil thing.
He slipped into the room, the sound of talking surrounded him, but no one’s heart spiked and no one paused their conversations so Matt assumed he wasn’t noticed. He heard 4 people talking at once. He recognized most of their voices, being Stark, Rogers, and Thor. 2 people were sitting to the side of the room. One being the Winter Soldier if his slow heart rate was anything to go by, and the other being Clint.
Matt slid into the chair next to Barton, hearing how his heart rate shot up and he flinched away. Heavy breathing came from beside him. “Jesus dude! Give a man a warning!” Clint breathed.
“Who’s the 4th person talking?” Matt asked instead of acknowledging Clint’s plea. Clint turned his face back towards the arguing.
“Sam Wilson. He’s the-”
“Falcon,” He answered, recognizing the name but not the voice. The door to the side of the room opened and someone entered. Their footsteps were silent, but their presence in the room cut the arguing off immediately. Matt would be the first to admit he was slightly excited to meet the famous Black Widow.
“Daredevil, nice of you to join us,” She greeted. Multiple heart rates spiked at the realization something slipped into the room without anyone noticing.
“I would say it’s a pleasure to be here, but that has yet to be decided,” Matt responded.
“When the fuck did you show up?” Stark asked.
“While the rest of you were arguing. Are we waiting for anyone else or can we get started?” Matt asked. He didn’t want to be here any longer than needed.
“Spiderman will be coming later, but we can begin in the meantime,” Rogers said. There was some shuffling around the room as they all settled down and got ready. Clint leaned in close to Matt.
“How’s K and F?” he asked, clearly talking about Karen and Foggy.
“Fine, F talked me into coming today,” Matt responded. Clint laughed.
“I’m sure you’re not too happy with me and Pete, are you?” Clint asked. Matt tilted his head in Clint’s direction, his unseeing eyes set in a glare and his lips pressed into a line. “Right, well, if you could wait to kick our asses until after the meeting, that would be great,” he whispered.
Rogers cleared his throat. “As most of you know, Hydra released a highly contagious toxin. We believe they released it into the sewers, but we’re not positive. Regardless, those who come in contact with the toxin end up experiencing major body malfunctions, including the loss of muscle control, blackouts that last days, sleepwalking into dangerous situations, and loss of verbal control,” Matt could tell by the volume of his voice that he kept turning his head to look at each person present in the room. “Shield has been working on finding an antidote, but it’s our job to find the source and take it out.”
Clint raised his hand, “didn’t you say you thought the source was in the sewers?” he asked.
“I did,” Rogers confirmed. Matt couldn’t help the smirk that grew on his face as Clint sputtered.
“You can’t be serious,” he gawked. Matt turned his face towards him.
“Scared of getting your clothes dirty?” He asked. Clint elbowed him in the side and ignored his comment.
“32 people have died so far, we’re doing our part to help,” Rogers said. “Bruce is working on breaking down the toxin sample Shield sent over as we speak.”
“Well I, for one, will not be trudging through New York’s sewer system,” Stark crossed his arms, “I’ll monitor from above ground.”
“If we have to walk through that literal shit then so do you,” Sam shot back, “With or without a Ph.D.”
“I, for one, don’t want to hear Stark complaining the entire time. I say we leave him behind,” Widow shot back.
Judging by the sound and movement of air, Matt guessed Stark pointed at Widow, “Right! Exactly!”
“What’s stopping us from contracting the toxin?” Matt asked. He knew if he came back with involuntary motor functions Foggy would never forgive him.
“Shield is working on a preventive medical option, but they sent over high-tech Hazmat suits for the meantime.”
“The more you talk the more I regret showing up,” Matt informed the group.
“How ‘bout you, Lone Wolf, what’s your 5 cents?” Sam asked, the direction of his voice telling Matt he was talking to Barnes.
“I’ve done worse,” He said, his voice low and guarded, clearly not wanting to say more. Matt couldn’t help the way his body tensed at the voice.
Clint turned to Matt, taping him on his arm to get his attention. His hands moved slowly, Matt could tell from the sound of skin rubbing on skin, and the way the air moved around his hands, that Clint was signing.
You think DP join?
Matt waved his hand to stop Clint. “Use your words,” he said. Clint chuckled. All other conversations in the room came to a blinding halt. Matt heard how the heartbeats in the room picked up slightly, how Roger’s breath caught in his chest.
“Excuse me?” Rogers asked. Matt turned to face them. “What did you just say?” Matt could feel how on edge everyone was, even without his heightened senses. The tension in the room was thick, crawling up his spine and burrowing into his skin.
“I didn’t say anything,” Matt responded. He sensed Clint was just as confused as he was.
“You did. You stopped Clint from signing,” Rogers said, his voice tense and readying for a fight. Matt has heard that tone of voice in people he finds on the street, people scared of being attacked but knowing they have to speak up. “You realize he’s deaf, right?”
“Yes, I am aware,” Matt answered, trying his best to ignore the anger he felt in his chest.
“You’ve known him long enough. He teaches everyone he meets sign language. Why did you stop him?” Rogers asked. Clint huffed out a chuckle and turned his body to face Matt, obviously waiting for him to respond. The asshole was enjoying Matt’s discomfort.
“I know the basics,” Matt said. Clint had tried to teach him signs, but without his sight, Matt had a hard time ‘seeing’ the movements. Only listening to his hands and feeling the way the air moved didn’t give him a lot to go on, thus it took a lot more concentration to understand the signs than what he was comfortable with. Plus, some signs were so similar Matt honestly believed Clint was just fucking with him and they were actually the same. He had to put his whole focus and concentration into noticing the tiny movements of the other person’s hands, forcing him to ignore everything else around him. Matt found that dangerous and off-putting. Matt and Clint came to the silent agreement that unless Clint didn’t have his hearing aids, the use of sign language would be kept to a minimum.
“If you know it then why did you stop him?” Widow was the one to ask this. Matt turned his face towards her.
“Because I find I have a hard time understanding what he’s saying,” Matt spoke slowly, every word cutting through the room with measured spaces.
“Do you cut people off if you don’t understand their language? Do you stop people from using wheelchairs? Do you harass people who need service animals” Matt found himself speechless at Steve’s words. His mind wasn’t moving fast enough to comprehend the situation he found himself in.
Clint sat up straighter, “now wait a minute-” he started, but wasn’t able to finish his thoughts.
“Are you calling me an ableist?” He asked. He was vaguely aware that Steve’s first example also claimed him to be racist, but he decided to focus on the more pressing concern. He heard Steve shift, his skin moving against each other, his shirt shifting against his form, his tendons and muscles stretching and contracting within his body as he crossed his arms.
“I don’t know, are you?” He asked. Matt felt defensive. He’s never been called an ableist, partially because he is disabled, and partially because he’s never given anyone else a reason to assume that of him. He felt the growing need to call Steve out on his idiocy, to explain how awful accusing him of being an ableist was, how he knows better than most how harmful those kinds of people can be.
“You know nothing about me, Captain,” He started, forcing himself to remember that none of these people aside from Clint knew he was blind. “And making assumptions based on one interaction between two known friends is naive and senseless.”
“Not when the interaction included a friend of mine and involved harmful actions towards their disability. I have every right to stand up for my companions when I believe someone is being toxic towards them.”
“I’ll reiterate, you know nothing about me or my life. Don’t assume you know what’s best when you don’t even know my real name,” Matt practically spit the words out. He was known as a calm person, not necessarily someone who thought through their actions, but someone who wasn’t prone to emotions easily. It’s what made him a good lawyer. Despite this, he couldn’t compress the anger he felt at the moment.
The door off to the side opened. Matt knew who it was the moment he heard their heartbeat from the other side of the building. Parker took in the tense room, his eyes scanning across the faces of everyone already inside.
“Sorry I’m late, what did I miss?” Peter asked.
“Your friend here is an ableist,” Stark said. Matt heard how Peter froze.
“Who?” Peter asked.
“Who do you think? Daredevil here just showed his true colors,” Steve huffed. Peter was quiet for a second, and Matt could practically hear the wheels turning in his head. Then, he started laughing.
“Are you kidding?” he gasped out.
“No kid, he said some shit about Clint signing,” Stark said. Peter sighed.
“If you guys would just listen-” Clint tried again but was cut off, this time by Steve.
“Are you completely prejudiced, or is it just against deaf people?” he asked. Matt shot to his feet, a roaring fire blazing in his chest that he had become quite familiar with. He recognized it to be the devil that lived in all the Murdocks, the same devil that pushed him to seek vengeance on those wronged and fix the world himself.
He started towards the window, fists clenched tightly at his side. His senses were muddled with the overwhelming sense of anger, and he knew if he didn’t leave now he would find himself with blood on his hands.
“D, wait,” Clint started, reaching out a hand to grab him but Matt moved out of the way.
“How about blind people, huh? Are you going to take their canes away because you don’t like the sound it makes on the ground?” Matt paused right before the window. His internal monologue consisted of Foggy’s voice telling him to let it go and leave it, while the devil of the Murdocks told him to burn the building to the floor. Foggy’s voice was becoming increasingly quieter as the devil grew louder.
“Steve, you idiot,” Peter bit out. It was so unlike Peter. He was sarcastic, sure, but his fear of being disrespectful to anyone he moderately admires was so engraved in the boy Matt honestly assumed he was physically unable to say anything mean. The shock of Peter’s insult rocked Matt enough that the Devil lost his footing and Foggy was able to speak some sense into him.
“Kid?” Stark asked, clearly also shocked by the progression of the situation.
“You’re so quick to jump to conclusions without knowing the facts,” Peter started. “You’re all aware of Team Red, yes?” There was a pause as Matt assumed people were nodding their heads. “2 out of the 3 members of Team Red are disabled. And since you are all aware I am not disabled, I’ll let you do the math.”
Due to his torture and frequent failed attempts on his life, Wade has permanent chronic pain in his entire body. Most of the time he handles it well, sometimes he has to break off from the group to go home and rest, and rarely do Peter and Matt need to help him get somewhere safe until the pain wears off, but it’s become something they’ve all accommodated. It was the same for the rest of them and Matt’s own disability. They often had to describe the appearances of things to him, or read written or typed notes aloud so he knew what was going on. They’ve even made excuses for Matt when a criminal got a little too close to realizing why Matt sometimes didn’t look straight at them. It was all part of their team dynamic, something they all got used to together and taught each other how to care for one another. It was the same thing Wade and Matt did for Peter when things got too much for the teen to handle.
Matt wasn’t sure how Wade would feel when he’s told the Avengers know he’s disabled, but he can’t imagine he’d care too much. In his mind, it didn’t matter so long as he didn't allow them to treat him any differently, and his personality does well to squash any hint of empathy from those who would feel concerned for him. Matt was a different story. At that moment, he didn’t know how he felt. He knew they didn’t know the specifics, they didn’t know how big the disability was, what things he could and couldn’t do, what support devices he might use, they just knew the word “disabled” related to him in some way. But then came the problem of them figuring it out.
Despite what he tries to believe, the others aren’t stupid. They know he’s disabled, and if they look too hard, watch him too carefully, dig too deeply, then it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to assume they’d figure out he’s vision impaired. And once that happens there’s no telling what they’ll do.
They don’t treat Clint differently, but he also has hearing aids and sign language that make him fully functioning without much risk of accidents when in the field of danger. But they might see Matt’s disability as too much of a risk, too much of an unknown to allow him to continue protecting the people of New York as Daredevil. Matt knows they have no say in what he does in Hell's Kitchen, but he also knows they are stubborn assholes who probably won’t leave him alone.
Then there’s also the chance that one of them might let it slip to the press. Having the Avengers find out about him is one thing, but he can’t have the world finding out about it too. It would put him and the people around him at too much of a risk. His enemies would try to take advantage of it and the public would have a field day of both defending him and tearing him to pieces.
And if one thing led to another, his own identity would also be at risk. There aren’t many legally blind people in Hell’s Kitchen.
During his internal panic, Peter wasn’t stopping. “Mr. Barton and Mr. D have known each other for about as long as I’ve known Mr. D himself. Their jokes include mutual banter about each other’s disabilities, but neither one of them think any differently about the other. D is the first one to switch to sign language when Barton’s aids die, and he’s the first person to kick someone’s teeth in if they try to test Barton about his ears. I don’t know exactly what D said, but I’m guessing it was something stupid,” Peter finished, staring down at the heroes in the room. Clint cleared his throat.
“When I started signing I knew he would dismiss me, just like I knew that if I needed to get his attention I just had to smack him again,” He said. It was quiet for a moment.
“Is this true, Daredevil?” Steve asked. Matt clenched his jaw and turned his face in the direction of the super-soldier. He raised his chin slightly, but no words were spoken. Soon Steve sighed. “Then I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions.”
That’s it? That’s all he has to say for accusing me of being an ableist? For harassing Clint? For jumping head first into an issue that he didn’t fully understand? The Devil in his head said. Even Foggy’s voice sounded pissed, but he was a lot more logical about the situation. Steve didn’t know about your disability, and if observed from an outsider's perspective then he was only trying to defend his friend. You can’t get mad at someone for trying to help, even if they were complete assholes about it.
Peter’s hand tightened on his shoulder. “Stay for the meeting,” He said. “To make it up to you I’ll buy pizza for Friday,” Team red always had pizza on Friday, and lately Clint has been invited since Deadpool grew fascinated by him.
Daredevil sat back down in his chair, knowing damn well he would not speak for the rest of the meeting unless it pertained to Hell’s Kitchen directly.
He was the last to arrive, and judging by the smell of pepperoni pizza in the air, he assumed Peter had already gotten the food.
He landed on the designated pizza roof, feeling Clint and Peter’s eyes on him as he sat down. Wade was the first one to speak. “So… Clinty here was just telling me a story,” He said. Matt leaned back on his hands. “It was quite something, actually. It involved you… and team Avengers…”
“Yes, Wade, I’m aware,” Matt interrupted. He was handed a slice of pizza from Peter.
“I only have one question, ok, bear with me here. Why the fuck didn’t you kick them right up their assholes?”
“They didn’t know.”
“Maybe not, but tasting your dirt-covered boot in the back of their throats is a quick way to learn!”
“That would only make them hate me more,” Matt said, “and now they know you’re disabled too, you should worry about yourself.”
“I don’t give two flying fucks what they think of me.” He paused, “But I know you’re probably worried about a whole variety of things. That’s just who you are, double D. But you’re part of Team Red, and we’ve watched each other's backs before, this isn’t any different.”
Peter chuckled, “That was surprisingly sweet coming from you,” He said.
“I’m pissed that I wasn’t invited to the party! I would have knocked every single one of their teeth out and made a tooth necklace!”
“You’re not exactly Avengers material,” Clint sighed.
“Hell no, if I’m X-men material, then I am definitely Avengers material! And to leave me out is just poor writing,” Wade said, looking off into the distance with a look on his face that he sometimes got after saying something confusing.
“Well, we didn’t find the HYDRA source the first time through, so if you want you can join us in the sewers next time. We could use all the help we could get,” Matt offered.
“Ummmmmmmm… I think I have plans,” He drew out, “With the X-men, they’re leveling me up to Rank Wheelchair.”
The rest of the night was quiet, and despite how anxious he was regarding the Avengers, he knew he had a good group of friends. Plus, he already had to listen to Foggy pace the living room of their apartment while cursing out Stark and Rogers for half an hour, sometimes he tried to accuse them of legal injustices that they both knew would not hold up in court. Regardless, he knew everything would work out.