The Invisible String: Matt Murdock/ Daredevil

21

Karen hesitated, searching Matt's face, but his head was tipped back against the couch, lips pressed thin in frustration. Finally, she nodded. Foggy gave one last uncertain glance before following her out.

When the door clicked shut, silence stretched heavy in the room.

Matt exhaled slowly, dragging a hand over his face. "...That's cheating."

"You're injured," Annalise reminded him calmly. "Sit still."

He let out a long held breath, shaking his head. "You realize if they get hurt I'll never forgive myself? I cant live with that Anne."

"And we'll be sitting here listening, and feeling, their every move." Her tone softened as she sat on the arm of the couch, her hand brushing over his shoulder. "But you scared them. You scared me the other night. We worry about you as well Matt."

He tilted his head toward her voice, lips twitching faintly. "...I liked you better before you figured out how to out-stubborn me."

She smiled, leaning down just enough to press her forehead against his for a fleeting moment. "Not possible."

___

Karen tugged her jacket tighter against the early afternoon chill as she and Foggy stepped out into the street. The neighborhood wasn't glamorous—chipped paint on storefronts, a couple of flickering neon signs, and the faint smell of bread drifting from the bakery on the corner—but compared to what they'd been through, it was practically paradise.

"So," Foggy said, consulting the crumpled paper Annalise had scribbled an address on. "Option number one: loft above a bakery. Option number two: small walk-up a few streets over. And option number three..." He squinted at the paper. "Oh no."

Karen glanced at him. "Oh no what?"

"Option three is cheap. Too cheap. Which means there's a catch." He waggled his eyebrows dramatically. "My money's on ghosts."

Karen rolled her eyes but smiled despite herself. "Foggy, this is Hell's Kitchen. The only ghosts here are angry landlords and broken plumbing."

"Ha," he muttered. "Laugh all you want, but I'm telling you—I can smell haunted apartments a mile away."

"You can smell... haunted apartments."

"Yes. Drafty hallways, mysterious stains on the ceiling, neighbors who 'don't like to talk about it'—it's a sixth sense." He tapped his temple. "The Nelson Haunt Radar. Patented."

Karen gave him a sidelong look, biting back a laugh. "You're unbelievable."

"And yet—" He spread his arms as they stopped in front of a narrow brick building with peeling white trim. "Behold. Haunted."

The sign outside read FOR RENT – Cheap, Flexible Lease. The windows on the second floor were dark, one curtain drooping half off its rod.

Karen sighed. "We'll just look. If it's awful, we cross it off."

Inside, the landlady was an older woman with too much rouge on her cheeks and a perfume cloud so thick Foggy swore he could taste it.

She led them up a creaky staircase, chattering all the while. "Second floor's been empty for quite a while. Lovely space. High ceilings. Hardwood floors. Very... atmospheric."

"Atmospheric," Foggy echoed, shooting Karen a look.

Karen elbowed him lightly. "Don't start."

The landlady unlocked the door, and they stepped inside.

At first glance, it wasn't terrible. The space was large enough for two bedrooms, with windows overlooking the street. But the wallpaper was faded, the radiator hissed like an angry cat, and there was definitely a draft even though all the windows were closed.

"Spacious," Karen said diplomatically.

"Drafty," Foggy countered. He moved to the far corner, staring at a dark stain spreading across the ceiling. "...Drippy."

Karen crossed her arms, trying to stifle a laugh.

The landlady beamed. "And the rent is a steal. Practically giving it away."

"Because it's haunted," Foggy muttered under his breath.

Karen smacked his arm. "Stop."

But the landlady leaned in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Well... the last tenants did complain about odd noises. Banging in the walls. Whispers at night. Doors opening by themselves. But I always say, it's just the plumbing!"

Foggy's eyes widened theatrically. "Oh sure. Classic plumbing. The kind that whispers at you."

Karen snorted, clapping a hand over her mouth too late.

The landlady gave them a pointed smile. "Of course, if you're not superstitious, it's quite a bargain."

Karen coughed into her hand. "We'll think about it."

Outside, Foggy groaned dramatically. "Karen. We cannot make Matt Murdock live in a haunted apartment. The man already has enough demons."

She burst out laughing, clutching her sides. "Foggy Nelson, you're ridiculous." Karen bit her lip, trying not to laugh.

But as they moved through the apartment, something shifted in Karen's chest. The space was worn, yes, but it had potential. It was hidden enough to stay off Fisk's radar. And after weeks of running, fighting, hiding, bleeding—what they needed most was space. Somewhere to breathe.

She turned slowly in the living room, imagining furniture, curtains, laughter echoing off the walls.

"I kind of like it," she said finally.

Foggy whipped around. "You what?"

"It's big enough for all of us. It's cheap. And come on, Foggy—what's scarier, a ghost or Fisk?"

He opened his mouth. Shut it again. "...Okay, fair point."

Karen grinned. "So that's settled, then."

Foggy groaned, running a hand over his face. "Great. I'm going to die in a haunted apartment."

"Not haunted," she corrected, squeezing his arm as they headed out. "Atmospheric."

_____

Back at Annalise's, Matt was stretched out on the couch, scowling faintly as Annalise hovered over him. When the door opened, both of them looked up quickly.

"Well?" Annalise asked.

Karen's face lit up. "We found it. Two bedrooms, decent location, cheap, and—"

"—haunted," Foggy cut in, flopping dramatically into a chair. "Don't let her sugarcoat it. Definitely haunted."

Annalise's eyebrows rose. "...Haunted?"

Karen waved him off. "Not really. Just old. Drafty. Noisy pipes. It's perfect."

Matt tilted his head, lips twitching with the ghost of a smile. "Drafty and haunted. Sounds cozy."

"Yeah, laugh it up," Foggy muttered. "When the ghost drags me into the radiator at 3 a.m., don't say I didn't warn you."

Karen snorted, tossing her coat over a chair. "It's a good place. Safe. And right now, that's what matters."

Matt nodded slowly, settling back against the cushions. "Then it's home."

For the first time in days, the four of them allowed themselves to exhale. Haunted or not, it was theirs.