liar, liar

ARTEMIS BELL was a liar.

Matt Murdock knew that for a fact. The other's change in heartbeat was slight, almost imperceptible (which was concerning in its own right), but there was no mistaking the skip whenever he lied. Which was often.

Even as he stood in front of him now, introducing himself to him and Foggy and Karen, Matt could hear the stutter in his heartbeat.

"Artemis Bell," he said, nodding with his hands clasped (Bum, ba-bum, bum). "I'd shake your hands, but, well."

To his credit, that was not a lie. Matt could smell something earthy on the taller man's hands. He smiled, hoping it didn't look like a grimace.

"That's alright," Karen replied for them, nodding. "Is that clay?"

Artemis hums. "Yes. I rent the studio next door, with—"

"Estelle, right?" Foggy interjected, and Matt could hear the grin in his friend's voice.

Artemis paused, head tilting to the side. "Yes, actually. How did you know?"

"Pssh, everybody knows Estelle," Foggy said, flapping his hand. "She gave us mugs as congratulations for getting our office."

Matt chose this moment to speak up. "You have an accent," he noted, furrowing his eyebrows together, adding to his harmless-blind-man act, ignoring Foggy as he elbowed him in the ribs. To his credit, he did, as imperceptible as it may be—the man seemed incapable of pronouncing the th, turning words like with or the into wiss and zhe.

Artemis blinked, and the stutter of his heart told him he was caught off guard. "I, uh, yeah," he said, smile back in place, albeit a little tighter. "I was born in Russia, but I grew up all over."

Bum, bum, bum.

Truth.

"I decided to move away a few years ago."

Bum, ba-bum, bum.

Lie.

Matt's grip on his cane tightened at the lie, but his friends were none the wiser.

"Well, what brought you to New York?" Karen asked.

Chuckling, Artemis rubbed the back of his neck. "I had a friend who used to live in New York; he told me I might like it here." He paused, amending, "Well, he was from Brooklyn, but I couldn't quite afford anything there."

Bum, bum, bum.

Truth.

"Brooklyn?" Foggy scoffed jokingly. "Your friend has some questionable choices there, buddy."

Artemis seemed to find the comment hilarious, bending over as he laughed. "I'll be sure to let him know," he said, straightening as Estelle neared the group. "It was lovely to meet you all," he said, still grinning. Matt wasn't sure if it was better or worse that he was telling the truth.

He offered a nod and a noncommittal hum, still tensely gripping his cane.

Estelle was, like Foggy said, well-known by most in Hell's Kitchen. Her family owned a pottery shop near the end of the block for as long as Matt could remember, but it was among the many buildings destroyed when the Avengers debuted. When Foggy and Matt were buying their office, Estelle had been in the process of finalizing her new shop space—right next door. She had, in fact, gifted them both a mug, with a small engraving of Lady Justice on the front, one hand gripping her scale. Matt liked Estelle; she was like a sister, which was why it only unnerved him further to see her wrap Artemis Bell in a brief hug.

"Careful," Bell joked, raising his hands to avoid touching her. "Don't wanna mess up your shirt."

"Ah, shut up," Estelle rolled her eyes, but an easy smile was on her lips regardless. "Help me with my new wares, would ya? I've got about five pieces ready to go into the shop."

Matt felt sick, the Devil climbing higher in his throat, begging to be set free. A hand on his shoulder made him flinch, and Foggy's voice entered his ears. "Well, we'd better get going," he said, shooting them a cheesy wink. "We're going to Josie's to celebrate—I'm milking this whole savior of Hell's Kitchen thing for as long as possible."

They bid them goodbye, and the trio began the short trek to the bar. As soon as they were there, Karen excused herself to the bathroom, and Foggy rounded on Matt.

"What the hell was that?"

Matt blinked, refusing to admit to anything. "What was what?"

"You know what," Foggy hissed, pointing at him (he had stopped holding back any physical emphasis after learning that Matt could hear it). "You looked like you wanted to deck Artemis!"

"Well, I wouldn't know," he retorted. Matt knew he was being obstinate on purpose, but he didn't want to have this talk now. Or ever, really.

Foggy said nothing, just fixing him with the most disappointed glare he could, arms crossed until Matt caved.

"He was lying, Foggy," he hissed finally.

Foggy remained unimpressed. "Yeah, people do that, Matt. We barely know the guy; I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't want to spill his whole life story right then and there."

Matt closed his eyes, breathing deeply to quell the frustration rising in his chest. "He was lying about practically everything, even his name."

A pause. Foggy blinked once. Twice. Three times. He breathed in through his nose, out through his mouth. "Okay, that might be a little weird."

"Thanks," Matt replied, smiling tightly.

"Don't give me that." Foggy rolled his eyes, offering his arm for Matt to take. Even after finding out about the Devil, Foggy still offered his arm to keep up appearances. Though he would never admit it, a small part of Matt appreciated the familiarity. "Well, whoever he is, just leave it alone for now."

"Foggy—"

"Don't 'Foggy' me," he shot back, no actual malice in his voice. "We just put Fisk away. I think the next life-threatening adventure can wait at least, like, a week or something."

"Y—"

"A week, Murdock." He repeated, faux sternly. They sat down at the bar, offering a brief greeting to Josie.

Karen joined them soon after, looking between them with a raised eyebrow. "Something up?"

Foggy scoffed jokingly before Matt could speak up. "I think he's jealous that Artemis's coming for his Hottest Guy title."

Karen burst out laughing, and Matt leaned back, a retort forming in his mind, any thoughts of lies pushed to the backburner.

♘

Artemis Bell was many things. A liar, sure. When he needed to be. Currently, though, all he was was tired. Estelle was undoubtedly kind enough to let him work for her in her shop and rent half her studio to him. Still, as he stood by a shelf of vases, watching her talk to a few students in her adult lessons class, his body felt heavier and heavier, as if the past years were finally catching up with him.

Sighing, he straightened, about to find something to pass the time when—

"Who're you?"

Artemis blinked, angling his head down to make eye contact with a young girl, her dark brown eyes fixing him with a suspicious gaze.

"I'm Artemis," he told her bluntly. "I work here. Who're you?" Kids, admittedly, had never been his strong suit. Not that he ever interacted with them much.

The girl's suspicion didn't waver. "I'm Kate," she said, still staring. "And if you work here, how come I've never seen you before? My mom comes here all the time." She raised her chin defiantly, seemingly determined to catch him in some sort-of lie.

He shrugged. "I'm new. This's my first day."

Kate stared at him, eyes still narrowed. Then, she relaxed, apparently satisfied. She hummed, her attention then diverted as her eyes darted all over, looking at the shelves. They were lined with vases, mugs, bowls, and more—all made by Estelle. All except for a smaller shelf near the back corner, where Artemis was slowly building his own collection of wares.

Artemis cleared his throat. "Do... you like pottery?"

Kate blinked like she wasn't expecting him to continue a conversation. "Not really," she admitted eventually. "But my mom takes us here all the time. She says it's good. Therapy, or something."

He hummed, walking toward an open table near the shop's center, where customers could sit and paint unfinished wares if they so chose. Kate trailed behind him, and the two sat. "That's fair," he told her, attempting a small smile. "'It's not for everyone. What do you like, then?"

She said nothing, and for a moment, he thought he pushed the kid too far when her eyes suddenly lit up. "Archery!" She said, beaming. "'Cause I wanna be like Hawkeye!"

Artemis blinked, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah!" Kate nodded vigorously, long dark hair moving with her head. "I saw him when the Avengers were saving New York! He was so cool—he didn't have any powers, but he took down all those aliens, and—" She paused, smile faltering. "Sorry. I talk a lot sometimes."

"Do not apologize for talking," Artemis told her faux-solemnly. "You're opinionated. That's good. Too many people are spineless wimps without a hill to die on."

There was a beat of silence, and Kate stared at him with wide eyes. Should he not have said that? Probably. He forgot that you had to be gentle with kids sometimes—

"You're right!" She said eagerly, grinning again. "I know a lot of wimps."

Artemis snorted, covering his mouth to hide his laughter.

Kate paid his reaction no mind, launching into an explanation of archery, the older listening with a vague curiosity.

By the time the girl's mother was done, Kate had told him nearly everything about the sport. He knew most of it, to be fair, but he played along, nodding and adding a comment every so often.

"Kate, let's go," her mother said, patting her hands dry on her black dress pants. Almost as an afterthought, she glanced at Artemis, a gracefully practiced smile adorning her lips. "And you must be the new hire. Eleanor Bishop, nice to meet you."

Artemis blinked, tilting his head as he smoothly took the woman's proffered hand, shaking it once, twice, before releasing it. "Artemis Bell, I'm—"

"—My business partner, actually," Estelle interrupted, inserting herself between the two. "We rent the studio together, and he's my new child's lesson teacher."

Artemis fixed her with wide eyes—I'm your what?—but said nothing as she ushered the Bishops out of the shop, Kate chattering the whole way.

"I would've loved to know when that decision was made," he quipped as the door shut with the chime of the bell.

Estelle turned back, grinning slyly. "Just now, actually." She sat at the center table, across from him. "Bishop's been dragging her kid with her to all her lessons for the past year. That's the first time I've seen her look actually happy to be here."

Artemis rolled his eyes, wishing he had grabbed that extra cup of coffee from his apartment that morning. "That's one kid, Stella," he reminded her. "I will do it; I do owe you, but I don't think I have ever been put in charge of kids. For good reasons, typically."

Estelle raised an eyebrow, waving an unbothered hand. "You don't owe me. This was all Damien cashing in his favor—if anything, you owe him. Besides, there's no better time to learn like the present, and if you can get through to Kate, you can get through to any kid."

Artemis was still uncertain, biting his bottom lip. "You say that now..."

"Listen, Damien told me some things," Estelle told him sternly. "Not everything, but enough. We can both agree that you're a fucked up guy on a bunch of different levels, but I think you can handle this much."

"Okay, okay, I will try it," he said, letting himself laugh a little. Maybe there was some truth to her words. He kind of hoped there was, anyway. It was a nice thought, after all.

(Deep down, he knew better.)

He batted those thoughts away, forcing his body to move, helping Estelle close up for the night.

♘

Artemis Bell had lied before. Depending on what you looked at, he was lying now. He would lie again.

It wasn't like he liked lying. If he were to be completely honest, he hated it. Secrets were messy things; they tore apart families, friends, lives. He would know; he'd witness the destruction of all three at the cold, far-reaching hands of lies.

Artemis sighed, shutting the door of his new studio apartment and turning the lock until it clicked. Satisfied, he dropped his bag, making a beeline for the kitchen and, more importantly, the wine. Boxes were scattered aimlessly throughout the apartment, filled with his still-unpacked belongings. He fished one of his only wine glasses out of the box on the kitchen counter. Reaching into the cupboard, he pulled out a solitary bottle of wine, a housewarming gift.

A paper tag was taped to the foil wrapped around the bottle's top, Damien's looping cursive visible.

Consider my debt paid. Hope you settle well. Call if you need anything.

—D. T.

"Charming as ever," he muttered to himself, a small chuckle leaving his lips. Gently, he pulled the paper note off, setting it to the side before opening the bottle and pouring himself a generous cup. Taking a sip, he moved to the window, opening it with his free hand and settling himself on the fire escape, hissing slightly as his sore back made contact with the brick wall behind him.

Sure, Artemis Bell was a liar. He knew that. He'd lied about all sorts of things; he'd probably spend the rest of his life lying.

He just hoped that one day, he'd believe his lies, too.

♘

wc: 2.3k
status: edited

here's chapter one!! i hope you guys like it!! and if you're curious about damien, there's a separate story for him in the works that i'm going to publish once i get further with hellhound.

let me know what you think, and i'll see you next time !