trustinthedevil | (no subject)

(no subject)

Who:

brutalize
What: Following this.

Was it the smoothest text Matt had ever sent? Definitely not. Did it work? Yes. More or less. He's not entirely sure if it was his natural charm (unlikely) or the pull of the Keurig (probably), but the point is, Frank's coming over. And that's honestly the highlight of Matt's life these days. He's already done his sweep of the kitchen for the night, anyway.

There's not much to do while he waits. Sitting on his couch in his sweats and socks and t-shirt, he decides to go over some things in the never-ending effort to get his firm back off the ground.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Thank for that, Frank."

Matt deadpans at him, then hauls himself out of bed. "It's all yours. I need to figure out -" Everything. Well, while Frank's going to the bathroom, Matt can find a suit to wear. He passes his hand over each jacket, even though he knows by count what each one is, he rubs the fabric between his thumbs. The process is repeated with shirts and ties, all of which get laid out on the bed so Matt can clean himself up. He figures he can shower in ... Two minutes. Maybe four. That's good.

"If you wanted to be nice, you could take those papers on the table out there and put them in my bag."

Frank locates his belt from the floor first, once he's done in the bathroom, and then heads to the living room to scoop the papers into Matt's bag. When the devil comes back out of the shower, dressed and ready barely a handful of minutes after hopping in, Frank has gotten himself a fourth cup of coffee from the Keurig and pulled the ingredients out of the fridge (which he probably put there in the first place) to make ham sandwiches. He wraps one in a paper towel and hands it to Matt, trying not to sound as amused by the hapless mess as he is.

Explains quite a bit about his own trial if this is an average sort of morning for Matt Murdock. "Need a ride?"

Yeah, but doesn't he look good? His hair is maybe still too damp but he thinks it'll dry by the time he has his meeting. As for that ham sandwich, well, it doesn't last long.

"Huh?" He's finding his shoes, sitting down to put them on. "That would be great. Really. Thanks."

Matt slings his bag over his shoulder and collects his glasses from the coffee table. His cane is nearby and he grabs that, too, then does a mental check. Yep. Good to go.

Frank puts everything back into the fridge, grabs his keys off the counter, and goes hunting for his discarded boots. He offers Matt an elbow as they head down towards the street. "This happen to you a lot, Red?" His hustle in springing from being asleep to being more or less ready to go was kinda impressive for anybody not used to the mad scramble of daily Reveille.

"It's not uncommon."

He laughs, but his head ducks, almost embarrassed by it. Almost. Matt gives Frank's elbow a squeeze. "Normally my distractions aren't so nice, though." He flashes Frank a smile and climbs into the van, absently toying with his hair to make it do ... Something. The trip is quick, even with Manhattan afternoon traffic - the office had to be relatively close, after all.

It's all fine until Matt gets there. It's a strange thing, being there without Foggy. He feels likes the Nelson and Murdock sign is judging him and it makes him hustle up into the office. Which is still judgy but less so. The bag gets set on the desk and Matt starts organizing his papers.

Edited (more awake lolol) 2016-06-23 14:54 (UTC)

Frank hustles far less, taking his time glancing around and making sure no one but Matt is around to see him slipping into the office a minute or two later.

It's. Definitely not what Frank imagined.

He picks up the lid of the prehistoric looking scanner, staring into the bed of it dubiously as it cranks to life slowly. Shit is so outdated it would be at home in a Naval outpost somewhere.

"You weren't kidding about needing a new office," he says, letting it flop back into place. (He swears a dust cloud billows up when it does. What the heck, Matt.)

Matt laughs in his self depricating way, shrugging a shoulder. He knows it's a shitty office. He doesn't need to have sight to know that. But it's his office, with his name on it, and what's more important is the work that comes out of it.

"I need money, first. I'm funneling what's left of my savings into keeping the electricity on and paying the rent. Then maybe I can think about a renovation."

At least some paint. If he can find a painter he trusts. "Maybe I should hire someone to clean it."

"Cleaners cost money," Frank reasons, and based on the shabby space he's dubiously glancing around at, more money than Matt can afford right now.

A peek through the kitchenette spots him the coffee-maker, and he can't help a small smile. Alright, so maybe it's not a completely hopeless place after all...

"I thought lawyers were supposed to be rich, huh?" he throws over his shoulder, reluctantly moving on to inspect the extra office space off to the right. Paint would help. A fire would probably help more.

Edited 2016-06-24 08:44 (UTC)

"That is a common misconception. Lawyers with clients who win cases tend to do pretty well, though."

Also lawyers who work for real money and not bananas. Matt follows the sound of Frank moving, lingering in the door. He's glad Frank's here, it keeps Matt from thinking too much about the people who aren't. He shrugs.

"It'll work out in the end."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only