The Invisible String: Matt Murdock/ Daredevil

14

Foggy tilted his head. "You know, I've known Matt for years. I've seen him take punches from guys twice his size, seen him walk into courtrooms with blood under his collar. But I've never seen him trust someone the way he does you."

She looked at him. "I didn't ask him to."

"I know." Foggy leaned forward slightly. "That's what makes it real."

There was a long beat of silence before he added, voice quieter, "I'm just trying to wrap my head around all this. I mean... 'the empath'? You died? Came back? That's not exactly résumé material."

Annalise offered a small smile. It didn't quite reach her eyes. "No, it's not. And I don't talk about it for a reason."

"I get that. I'm just..." Foggy hesitated. "Did you really die?"

She let out a short laugh. "I'm not sure, when I lived there I was thrown into wires. The lady 'taking care of us' thought I was dead and threw me outside. That's when i made my way to the church where we both grew up."

Foggy sighed, "I'm sorry, that's a crap"

They sat there in comfortable silence, sharing a past memory so relevant led to the beginning of a good friendship.

3 Hours Later,

The apartment was dim, shadows stretching long across the floor. Foggy had stopped pacing an hour ago. Now he sat cross-legged on the floor, back against the couch, arms draped over his knees. Annalise leaned against the wall near the window, eyes half-closed, her focus somewhere else entirely.

The air in the room shifted.

Not the kind you could see or hear—but she felt it. A faint ripple in the current. The kind that passed through your bones before it ever reached your skin.

She turned her head a split second before the lock clicked.

Matt entered.

But he wasn't alone.

He stepped inside, silent as ever, and held out a carefully wrapped bundle of black cloth and plating, folded cleanly over his arm. It looked like some kind of combat suit—sleek, armored at the chest and along the ribs, but light enough not to weigh someone down. Even the texture was different—not standard leather.

It almost... hummed.

"I told you I'd get you something fancy, been getting some things arranged since you said you weren't backing away" Matt said. His voice was calm, but there was pride under it.

Annalise pushed off the wall and stepped forward, her fingertips grazing the edge of the material. She stopped cold.

Her brows lifted slightly.

"...What is this made of?"

"Custom blend. Micro-layered reactive fiber, insulated with static-absorbent mesh." He tilted his head, sensing her heartbeat quicken. "It reads the ambient current. Catches it. Holds it. Less friction against the flow of energy—you'll stay more centered in high-charge environments. Less overload."

Foggy blinked. "That means something to her, right?"

"Oh yeah," Annalise murmured, still focused on the suit. "It means I'm never taking this shit off"

Matt gave her a small smile. "I've know how your ability works, when you track things before they move. This won't dull it. It'll enhance it."

She looked up sharply, searching his face. "You had this made in advance?"

"I had ideas from years ago. A few years after you were taken I had it set up for when you came back. The rest came from a person who owed me a favor."

She nodded, jaw tight, holding back the sudden burn of emotion in her throat. "It's perfect."

Later, after Matt stepped into the other room to make a secure call, Foggy spoke up.

"You feel everything all the time, don't you? Like Matt?"

Annalise sat back on the arm of the couch, arms crossed loosely. "Not everything. Not all at once, like his. But it's like..." She paused, searching for words. "Imagine living in a room full of wires. Thousands of them. Most people only feel the ones that zap them. I feel all of them. The way they move, pulse, ripple. Emotions. Intent. Pressure. Pain. Even before it happens—I feel the build."

Foggy sat up straighter. "You can feel it before it happens?"

"It's not time travel," she said with a slight smirk. "It's more like... when someone's about to punch you, the energy leaves their body before their arm does. Same thing with movement. Aggression. Panic. I read it. I feel it. And as we all now know... I can touch it. Push it back."

"You can take pain, right?"

"Take it. Channel it. Redirect it. If I draw it through the energy lines, I can carry it off someone, or throw it right back, like what I did with you and Matt."

Foggy blinked. "You're like a damn lightning rod."

She smiled faintly. "That's one way to put it."

"And the perfect aim thing, with the bottle on the roof, that's not training?"

"Part training. But mostly instinct. I can see how things are going to move, even if they haven't started yet. Feel the air pressure shift. Electricity in muscles. Vectors. Tension. Gravity." She held up her hand and mimed flicking something. "When I throw, I'm not guessing—I already know."

Foggy let out a low whistle. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."

"You never could," she said. "You're too loud. I'd hear the guilt coming from a mile away."

He laughed softly, then shook his head. "Fisk really picked the wrong person to drag into this."

Her smile faded. "Or the right one. Depends how you look at it."

Foggy was quiet a moment. Then: "Are you scared?"

Annalise looked out the window, the city buzzing quietly below.

"No," she said softly. "I'm ready."