𝙖 𝙛𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙖𝙧 𝙨𝙤𝙧𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜

Quick note: I edited like two words for continuity's sake. I also took out one of the graphics I made because I decided Artemis's character made more sense gay rather than bi (he and Estelle are a perfect example of gay/lesbian solidarity). Okay, that's all. Read on!

♘

The following day, Artemis jolted awake, nearly falling off his bed, to the sound of someone pounding on his door. He leaped up, immediately alert, tugging on presentable clothes in record time, and raced for the door. Without looking, Artemis ripped the door open, ignoring the bolt of pain in his arm and the loud thudding noise from the door colliding with the wall, most definitely damaging the drywall. Standing in front of him, looking impatient and wholly unimpressed, was Estelle.

"God, took you long enough," she said, stepping under his arm and into the apartment.  

Though she couldn't see it, Artemis stuck out his tongue as he shut the door. "I didn't realize so many people would come unannounced," he muttered, moving to dig through the kitchen drawers—his heating pad had to be somewhere. "Is this a New York thing? Do all New Yorkers do this?"

Estelle gave him a pointed look with her hands on her hips. "Or you're just forgetful. I'm driving you to pick up your medication, remember? And then we're meeting Foggy, Matt, and Karen for lunch." Pausing, she looked down to see a large, ginger cat wound between her legs. "And when the fuck did this happen? I thought your building didn't allow pets."

"They do," Artemis hummed. "I just have to pay a deposit. Found him in an alley last night, all alone, and he followed me home." He rubbed the cat's head, lips quirking up slightly when he began to purr.

♘

Only one block out from the complex, he heard shuffling in the alley nearby, and his curiosity quickly got the best of him. Squinting, he peered into the alleyway, wincing as a twinge of pain shot up his neck.

"Hello?" He called, stepping further into the alley. No response, only more shuffling, followed by a muffled thump. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the alley, he noticed a collection of boxes piled high—almost to his head—where the sounds appeared to be coming from.

Cautiously, Artemis crept closer to the boxes. "Are you... alright?" He asked, keeping his voice level.

"Mrow."

He blinked, stopping short. Is that a—?

Before he could move any closer, a large cat leaped out of one of the lower boxes. It eyed Artemis warily, ears pinned back. The man slowly crouched down, ignoring the creaking and pain in his knees as he reached out a careful hand.

"'s alright," he murmured, voice soft. "I would not hurt you."

The cat regarded him carefully, golden eyes staring back at him. Its fur was long and dirty; what must have originally been orange was closer to brown from the dirt and grime covering it.

Reaching his hand closer, the cat met him the rest of the way, giving him a tentative sniff before leaning up to bump its head against his hand. "Хороший кот¹," he mumbled, smiling a little when the cat leaned into his palm.

♘

The cat certainly looked better than the previous night—his fur was significantly cleaner, and he was much more active with some food in his stomach.

He let out a few warbled meows as Estelle rubbed his head. "What's its name?"

That gave Artemis pause. He hadn't really considered a name; he'd just been calling it cat in his head. "... Kotik."

Estelle looked up at him, squinting. "Isn't that just 'Cat' or something?"

Shrugging, he watched as Kotik wound around his legs, purring. "He doesn't seem to have a problem with it." He leaned down, scooping Kotik into his arms, almost regretting it when his right arm twinged, pain crawling from his forearm to his spine, his grip loosening before he tightened it again. If Kotik noticed, he didn't react, letting out a contented meow as he settled into the man's arms.

"Anyway," Estelle said, turning her gaze back on Artemis and adjusting her heavy, fur-lined coat. "Let's get going—we're on a tight schedule today." At the other's silence, she raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you forgot."

Artemis scoffed. "I didn't forget. I just see no point in going."

Eyes widening, Estelle looked like she wanted to throttle him. "No point—are you kidding me? This medication is important; it could really help you!"

"I've gone this long without it."

She stood to her full height—just under Artemis's own with her heels— scowling at him. "This is non-negotiable, Bell," she said sternly. "I'll drag you if I have to, but one way or another, you're getting in my car, and we're going to fucking Walgreens."

After setting Kotik down, who protested quite loudly, Estelle all but dragged Artemis into her car, parking on the street outside a Walgreens just outside of Hell's Kitchen. Unfortunately, the aches from prior did not fade; instead, Artemis was left with a lingering pain down his arms and back as they entered the store. If he didn't do something soon, he knew it would spread to his hips, and he would be out of commission for the rest of the day.

As they made their way to the back of the store, he snagged a few boxes of heat patches to use for later—even though he had unpacked weeks ago, he still couldn't find his heating pad. Estelle said nothing but shot him a look as if saying I told you so.

The process of getting his medication was more tedious than he would have preferred—it was almost as if they didn't want him to have it in the first place. Yet, by the end of their visit, Artemis walked out, pill bottle in one hand and an informational pamphlet in the other, like he didn't know what he was doing. He climbed back into the passenger seat of Estelle's beat-up sedan, drumming his fingers on the center console.

"You alright?" She asked, sparing him a quick glance as she drove.

"I think so," he replied, forcing his hands to still, clasping them together tightly. "It's been so—so quiet, and—"

"You aren't used to the quiet."

Artemis blinked. "Yes. Exactly."

Estelle offered him a mirthless smile. "I get it. After Damien helped me settle, I was so scared all the time; I was constantly waiting for it all to go wrong."

"... and?" He asked, his voice soft, like he was scared of the answer.

"It still hits me from time to time," Estelle admitted, her smile softening ever so slightly, reaching one hand to rub the sleeve of her coat. "The nerves—the paranoia. But it gets better, I promise."

He offered her a tentative smile in return, letting his body relax into the seat. "... okay."

♘

Matthew Murdock was blind.

Objectively, Artemis knew this.

However, sitting across from him at some local restaurant, he couldn't help feeling that he was staring him down behind those red sunglasses.

"I've been trying to show him around, but he's such a hermit," Estelle was saying, and she poked him to punctuate her sentence.

"Really?" Foggy squinted, scrutinizing him. "You seem pretty outgoing to me."

Offering what he hoped was a convincing smile, Artemis shrugged. "Guess I'm just a good actor." He pretended not to notice the way Matthew's grip on his cup tightened until he was white-knuckling it.

"Besides, I've only been here a week. Give me some time," he said, tilting his head toward Estelle. "This is... different from other places I've lived. It's a lot to take in."

Understatement of the year.

Foggy perked up as if he were waiting for this conversation to happen. "We could show him around! Gotta give you the Hell's Kitchen Native tour. No offense, Stelle."

Estelle grinned, and Artemis could tell she was expecting this. "None taken—that sounds like a great idea!"

"Oh, I don't know," Karen said, wincing apologetically. "I think we're pretty busy—"

"We have time," Matthew interrupted smoothly, folding his hands together. Once again, his sightless gaze seemed to pin Artemis down, and he tilted his head. "Does later today work?"

In lieu of an answer, Artemis glanced at Estelle, silently pleading for help.

Estelle's grin widened as she nodded at the trio across from them. "His lessons end at four-thirty. After that, he's all yours."

Matthew and Foggy shared a grin that, frankly, did not bode well with Artemis. Sighing, he shoved the last bite of noodles into his mouth. He had a long day ahead.

♘

"Huh, you're still here."

Squinting, Artemis peered down at one Kate Bishop, who was eyeing him with just as much scrutiny. "Were you... expecting me to not be here?"

Relaxing, Kate offered him a shrug. "I dunno—you just looked super lost last time, so I figured you might've got scared and quit."

"That was a week ago!" He protested, rightfully affronted.

"And?" Kate shrugged again, but she was grinning now, barely suppressing her laughter. "Maybe you're a procrastinating coward."

Rolling his eyes, Artemis relents, letting a small smile grow. "Whatever you want to hear. Now go sit down, shoo!" He ushered her to a stool, going to take his seat at the front.

Pushing up his sleeves, he looked at all the children in the room, varying ages from twelve to seventeen. He sat at the wheel with a grunt, having already prepped.

"Okay, let's get started, shall we?"

The lesson itself seemed to go by quickly. Artemis found the children surprisingly competent in their own right, and he didn't mind answering their questions (though the boy who needed help throwing five different times had begun working on his nerves). Before long, he was tossing rags around, having already wiped down his own wheel.

"Estelle's got you teaching the gremlins, huh?" Foggy said, grinning as he poked his head through the door. Standing just over his shoulder, like some kind of guard dog, was Matthew, arms crossed.

Artemis shrugged, waving to Kate as she zipped out to meet her mother, shouting a quick Bye, Mr. Bell! over her shoulder. "It's not so bad," he said, wiping his hands on his apron. "They're surprisingly good listeners."

Matthew raised an eyebrow, but he graced Artemis with a rare smirk. "Venting to the kids, are we?"

Grinning, Artemis went along with the jab. "Where else am I to go?" He draped his arm across his forehead dramatically and leaned back, catching himself when his back did not agree with that. "No one wants to hear my woes."

"Okay, okay," Foggy interrupted, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. "You can tell us all about your 'woes' outside. Now let's get going; if we hurry, we'll be done by sunset." He clapped Artemis on the back, not noticing how he stiffened when pain radiated out.

"Yes, of course."

♘

Matt tilted his head, fighting a grimace as the three men walked down the busy sidewalk. He and Foggy were on either side of Artemis, the latter talking animatedly about the different sights.

Artemis hummed and nodded every so often, but from his fidgeting to the sound of his eyes moving restlessly about, it was clear he was only partly paying attention.

His heart rate was steady, but he seemed to walk almost stiffly like his entire body was causing discomfort.

"—right, Matt?"

Matt blinked, turning his head in Foggy's direction. He had been saying something about a restaurant, and he shrugged. "I may not know much about the visuals, but the food's pretty good."

Artemis hummed again, his clothes rustling as he placed his hands in his pockets. His back was stiff and seemed to throb in some kind of pain, but that didn't make sense. Matt couldn't smell copper in the air; he couldn't hear blood rushing in broken capillaries or bones grinding—nothing to suggest an injury. He furrowed his eyebrows, tilting his head as he turned his ear toward the younger.

"Sounds good," he said. "I hadn't been to many bakeries growing up, but I've been told I've got a sweet tooth."

Curiously, nothing about that was a lie.

Foggy led them down the street toward their destination, which was a small café on the corner. They had opened recently, and though Matt hadn't had the chance to go, he noted the pleasant smell wafting from the open door.

Stepping ahead, Artemis held the door open, leaning his back against it, and Foggy relayed that to Matt quietly, ushering him forward with a hand on his arm. Matt nodded in the younger's direction, hoping his smile looked genuine (Artemis's tilted head and raised brow didn't fill him with confidence).

Once inside the bakery, the man behind the counter turned in their direction. "Welcome!" His gaze seemed to immediately settle on Artemis, the tendons in his neck moving as he followed the man's path. "Foggy, I see you brought some friends with you."

Foggy scoffed. "Of course—I can't be friends with someone who's never been here before!"

"Wow," Matt said, smirking as he gripped his cane with both hands. "All those years of friendship meant nothing to you, huh?"

Artemis let out a snort, quickly covering it with a cough, as he confidently (albeit stiffly) walked over to the counter. Foggy followed closely behind, and Matt brought up the rear, listening curiously as the cashier... flirted? With Artemis.

"I've never seen you around before." The cashier said, leaning his elbows on the counter and tilting his head at the taller man.

Artemis's face stretched into a slight grin. "You got me," he said, shifting his weight as he seemed to hold back another wince. "Moved in a week ago."

Matt heard the cashier's lips form its own grin, much wider than Artemis's own. "Ooh, so mysterious," he joked. "Well, Mister Tall-and-Handsome, what can I get you today?"

He blinked like he hadn't expected that sort of response. Clearing his throat, he found his footing quickly. "A hot latte, with an extra shot, please."

Humming, the cashier reached behind him to grab a cup, his head not turning from where it was facing Artemis. "And can I get a name for that?" The question itself was innocent, but Matt found the cadence anything but.

If Artemis noticed, he didn't let on. "Artemis is fine, thank you." He stepped back from the counter, barely missing Matt's shoulder with his own. He inclined his head toward Foggy, seeming to silently say, Your turn.

Things moved quicker after that; they received their orders and made it out the door, Foggy gripping a pastry bag and coffee, Matt balancing his food, coffee, and cane, and Artemis holding his coffee with both hands, humming as he took a swig.

As Matt adjusted his grip on his coffee, he noted the smell of permanent marker on the sides of all three of their cups, but Artemis's especially smelled. He wrinkled his nose, sipping his own drink to combat the smell.

"Artemis, dude, Alan was flirting with you," Foggy said, muscles in his face contracting as he squinted at the taller, pausing to take a bite of his pastry. "You know that right?"

Artemis paused briefly, blinking at Foggy. "Huh, that explains this, then." He shifted his cup in his hand, letting the smell of permanent marker grow stronger. Tilting his head toward Matt, he said as an aside, "He wrote his number down."

Grinning, Foggy waved his hand in a go on motion. "Well? You should call him—start up a cute little romance!" He paused. "I mean if you like guys. If not, then, uh—"

"Relax," Artemis said after a moment. "You are, uh, correct." He swallowed, shifting his weight as his head tilted down toward the cup in his hands. "I'm gay; I like men."

"I knew it!" Foggy cheered. "And Estelle says my gaydar is bullshit."

The trio had paused, waiting to cross the street, and Artemis shifted from foot to foot. He seemed more uncomfortable than before and shifted his grip on his cup. "Ah, I—y-yes."

Matt tilted his head, brows furrowing at the abnormal spike in the younger's pulse. He sighed, reaching out and purposefully swiping the air once before his hand found Artemis's shoulder. "Don't worry about it—Foggy figured out I was bisexual before I even said a word."

Artemis blinked again, but before he could say a word, Foggy slung his arms around both of them, moving them down the street. "Like recognizes like, Murdock; you know this. Anyway, we'd better get Arty here home in one piece."

"Arty?" Artemis spluttered, distracted by the nickname. Matt noted that his pulse had slowed back to its typical, almost-slow-enough-to-be-concerning pace, and his gait (though still a little stiff) had lost most of its tenseness.

"Oh, yeah," Foggy said, and Matt could hear the grin in his voice. "I've been thinking of a good nickname; you're stuck with it now, Arty."

"Yeah, but why's it always that?" Artemis mumbled under his breath. Matt raised an eyebrow but said nothing, keeping silent as he and Foggy chattered back and forth until they reached the younger's apartment. As Artemis stepped ahead to grab his keys tied around his neck, Matt stiffened. He could hear someone breathing, pacing behind the door.

Artemis definitely lived alone. Someone broke in.

The unknown intruder's entire body seemed to thrum despite their otherwise calm pulse, and Matt subtly stepped in front of Foggy, gripping his cane tightly. He listened with bated breath as Artemis turned the key, unlocking the door. The younger immediately noticed the intruder, evident as his pulse spiked before slowing.

"Damien," he said, sighing the way a parent might at a disobedient child. "What are you doing?"

Damien—the man from the phone call the other day, Matt realized—paused, tilting his head as he adjusted his shirt sleeves. He noted that his clothes smelled impeccably clean, and metal rings adorned his fingers. Underneath the rings, the skin throbbed, slightly irritated.

"Art—" Damien paused, clearing his throat. "Artemis. I've been waiting for you."

Artemis huffed, stepping into the apartment, Matt and Foggy following suit. He listened as the younger began bustling around, picking up dishes and papers as though he were incapable of standing still.

"What, and you couldn't call?" Artemis asked, tossing his now-empty coffee cup into the trash. "Just because you have a key doesn't mean you can come unannounced. This is the third time in a week I have had unexpected visitors." Pausing, he turned his head toward Matt and Foggy. "Is this normal for Americans?"

"Only twice," Damien interjected, crossing his arms. "Estelle and I both reminded you about her visit; that's on you."

The younger scoffed, entirely at ease with this man. "Semantics."

Damien shifted, his stoic attention settling on Foggy and Matt, the tendons and muscles in his neck creaking. "And who are these?"

"Matthew Murdock," he introduced himself, offering his hand slightly to the side of where he knew the man to be standing. "My partner and friend is Foggy. And you are?" They shook hands, the other's grip loose but calloused, and Matt could tell he was holding back.

Damien hummed, signifying faint interest even if his facial muscles remained slack. "Damien Thornton. I'm an old friend of Artemis and Estelle."

"Ooh," Foggy spoke up. "Do you work with pottery, too?"

"No," Damien chuckled, fiddling with his rings. "I'm... between jobs at the moment."

Matt hummed, tilting his head. Seemed like he had two people to keep his eye on now.

♘

"You have a habit of going out late at night?"

Artemis Bell craned his neck as Daredevil landed smoothly in front of him. He could hear the throbbing in his shoulders as the younger shrugged, his hands in his pockets. "What can I say?" He asked nonchalantly, leaning against the brick wall of the alleyway. "I'm practicing to be a damsel in distress. Do you have a habit of talking up random civilians?"

The Devil grunted, crossing his arms. "Only the ones that put themselves in danger every night."

Artemis bit out a laugh, hunching over. "I assure you, Mister Devil, I am in no danger."

"You're new, aren't you?" He phrased it more like a statement than a question. "I wouldn't say that so soon."

Lips stretching into a grin, Artemis leaned forward. "Oh, you don't have to worry about me. I can take care of myself."

Grimacing, Matt leaned back. This was a little different from the Artemis flustered by the barista. "Don't be so cocky," he said, adding a growl to his voice.

Falling back against the wall with a thud and a poorly concealed wince, Artemis rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, whatever you say." He slid down the wall, landing on the cold concrete with a grunt, and leaned his head back with his eyes shut.

He opened a single eye, and it flitted up and down, giving Matt a once-over. "Well, I assume you have more important things to attend to than me."

The Devil grit his teeth, wanting to argue, but someone cried out in the distance, and he turned toward the sound. Pausing, he turned his head toward Artemis over his shoulder. "Don't do anything stupid," he warned him.

As he left, he heard the younger mutter, "Easier said than done, Mister Devil."

¹: Good cat.

♘

wc: 3.5k
status: edited

fun fact: one of artemis's favorite bands is abba.

i wanted to clarify that while this does primarily follow the mcu's depiction of daredevil and co., i'm also partially going off the comics and my own interpretation of the characters. this is my fanwork, and i have the freedom to write and portray the characters as i see fit.

earlier when i was planning artemis's character, i thought to myself, ah, yes, he will be So Suave and Charismatic. now i've realized he's just a flustered guy good at acting. sorry arty.

anyway, i'm trying not to speed things along and simultaneously not move too slowly. hopefully i've found a happy medium. this was mostly a filler chapter, but let me know what you thought of this chapter, and i'll see you next time!