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Daredevil hadn’t actually meant to start working with the Avengers. It had been a case-by-case type of thing, which all parties knew. But, there came a point where you weren’t just outside backup anymore, and giving Daredevil auxiliary membership to the Avengers just made sense.
Daredevil only begrudgingly agreed.
Peter was honestly thrilled that he agreed, at all (and perfectly aware that his wheedling had, in part, worn him down to the point of agreement).
So, Daredevil (and Deadpool) got shiny new Avengers auxiliary memberships. And maybe it was the Avengers’ willingness to officiate Deadpool’s auxiliary membership that also had some part in wearing Daredevil down until he was willing to agree. All of Team Red: official Avengers! In an auxiliary, and partially probationary, capacity.
“You won’t regret this,” Peter grinned.
“I already do,” Daredevil muttered.
Peter laughed, even though he could tell it wasn’t actually a joke, then turned to Deadpool. “Excited, Wade?”
“Hell yeah, Spidey,” Deadpool bounced on his toes, humming pleasantly. “Does membership include snacks? Movie nights?! Bonding?! Oh my god, Spidey! Bonding! I bet there’s group hugs and secret handshakes and—”
And Peter nodded along, only half paying attention.
--
Auxiliary membership to the Avengers’ team did have its perks, of course. A room at the Tower, if anyone ever needed it. Food, on Stark’s bill. WiFi, cable, and streaming services, also on Stark’s bill. State-of-the-art exercise equipment and training rooms. Companionship with people that understood the hero lifestyle and the sacrifices you had to make when you were living it...
But it also came with a few caveats. Monthly team meetings, for one (though conferencing in, via phone or video, was an option). Monthly team-building/team-training things, for another (they had one each week, but asked that each Avenger, when they were in the area and able, do at least one a month). Stuff like that.
And the resources.
Peter remembered going through all the resources. It was kind of a lot (and some of it was dry as coarse-grain sandpaper and twice as abrasive – someone should definitely rewrite that shit). The resources weren’t necessarily mandatory, but everyone was kind of expected to go through at least the big stuff: the mental health and burnout resources, the diversity and accessibility resources, and at least the basic crisis-management stuff.
Daredevil, though...
Peter didn’t think Daredevil read any of it. Nor did it seem like he ever intended to, from the blank way he accepted the resources from Cap.
Which was.
Well.
It was fine, right?
Yeah, it was fine. They weren’t mandatory resources or anything. But, you know. Peter had depression, anxiety, and ADHD, and was bisexual as fuck, and Daredevil had always seemed considerate of all of that, and kind enough to be an ear if Peter didn’t have anyone else (which, admittedly, wasn’t often). Daredevil was also one of the few people that tolerated Deadpool and all of his. Deadpool-ness. Yeah, he was begrudging about it, but Wade was a lot to handle, so Peter understood.
Basically, Peter had assumed that Daredevil would be a bit more open to the resources and such. He was surprised to be proved wrong.
“That’s just how it is, sometimes,” Tony shrugged, arms crossed.
“But he’s usually, like, good about it.”
“I’m glad, kid—”
Peter rolled his eyes, he was twenty-three and Tony still insisted on calling him “kid.”
“I’m glad,” Tony repeated. “But tolerating something because it’s your friend isn’t the same as being an Ally or caring about the overall issue. I wouldn’t look too deep into it. But if he’s ever insensitive, kid, it’s okay to call him on it. Or to tell someone. Tell me, in fact. We don’t need someone who’s actively intolerant on the team—”
“It’s not like that!” Peter rushed to say. “He just doesn’t seem interested in the resources. I think he’s very tolerant! Probably. I mean. Yeah? Yeah.”
“Okay, kid,” Tony said. He shrugged again.
But it was a bug in Peter’s ear. Was Daredevil casually ableist or homophobic? Was that why he didn’t care for the resources?
--
One of the effects of being an auxiliary member of the Avengers was that Daredevil ended up working with them even more.
“It would probably benefit you if you learned sign. I mean, you might know ASL, but our sign is a bid different – coded n’ shit,” Tony was saying.
Daredevil’s expression remained neutral and his gaze drifted off a bit to the side. “I... don’t,” he said.
“Know ASL? Cool, cool. Might make it easier to just learn ours, you know?” Tony grinned.
Daredevil frowned. “I have to go.”
Tony’s grin fell away to confusion, for a moment, then offense. “I suppose maybe you haven’t noticed,” he said. “But Clint – Hawkeye – is deaf. Like, not entirely—no, doesn’t matter. Doesn’t matter! What matters is that—”
“I really have to go,” Daredevil interrupted. And... he practically fled.
Peter was. Disappointed, to say the least.
--
So, Peter brought up the incident the next week, when it was just Team Red, chasing down a lead. It was a slow-going project, interspersed with Daredevil standing stock-still for minutes on end, almost as if he were listening for something, and then suggesting their next move.
During one of those lulls where Daredevil just stood there, Peter decided to give the conversation a go.
“So. Sign,” Peter said.
Daredevil might have glanced his way. Peter wasn’t sure. He took it as acknowledgement, though.
“I hear Tony sent you, like, videos and stuff, right? So you can learn it easier?”
Daredevil glanced away again.
“Clint’s deaf. He can lip-read n’ stuff, too, but sign is a lot easier. And we’ve had incidents where, like, we didn’t want to be speaking out loud. Or where something happened to Clint’s hearing aids. You know? It’s just a useful thing, the Avengers’ coded sign stuff. You probably didn’t know Clint was deaf, though, huh?”
“I know he uses hearing aids,” Daredevil disagreed.
“What?” Peter tried not to give a reproachful look, but he satisfied himself that the look was shrouded by his mask. “Then why did you act so—”
“It’s not worth it,” Daredevil interrupted.
Peter gaped at him. “What do you mean it’s not worth it? DD, come on, you sound... that’s kind of awful to say.”
“What?” Daredevil frowned at him. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“How did you mean it?” Peter demanded.
Wade returned in that tense moments, an armful of tacos in hand. “Stakeout munchies!” he crowed.
“How. Did you mean it? Come on, DD.” Peter crossed his arms.
Daredevil opened his mouth to respond, then snapped his head toward another direction. ”South. Four blocks. One of the dealers is making a sale. We might be able to get the sample off him, then get that to Stark for a chemical analysis—”
“DD,” Peter threw his hands up, exasperated.
“He’ll get away if we don’t go now,” Daredevil ran for the edge of the roof and jumped. Because of course he did.
It was too convenient, yeah, but they did manage to reach the dealer and get the sample, so maybe Peter was judging too harshly. But then they were in Avengers Tower and Peter didn’t want to risk one of the others overhearing him trying to confront Daredevil about his casual ableism.
--
If there was one thing Peter hated, it was trying to fight Punisher.
He was a normal guy! Allegedly. Peter couldn’t for the life of him figure out why Frank Castle was so hard to beat. Though maybe it was his willpower alone.
So, anyway, Peter was going toe-to-toe with Punisher, trying to keep Castle from shooting out some mobster’s brains, or whatever. The whole thing was kind of unfulfilling, considering how much Peter didn’t even want to help the mobster. If that mobster weren’t involved in the drug case from the previous week, Peter would be more than a bit tempted to just let Castle at him. Much like how he turned a blind eye if Deadpool needed a moment to deal with a predator that they all knew would otherwise get away with it.
Castle got in a lucky hit.
Lucky, because Peter’s Spidey Sense may have warned him about the blow, but Castle had a quick follow-up already mid-motion, when Peter dodged the first blow.
“Fuck,” Peter muttered. His nose felt broken. He could deal with it later.
“Frank.”
Punisher stopped, right in the middle of going at Peter again, while he was still mid-stumble. Castle turned, slightly. “Red.”
Ah, Daredevil. Peter had been, low-key, trying to avoid Daredevil for a bit, until he knew how to address the ableist elephant in the room. Clint was, after all, a friend. He couldn’t have someone, especially another friend, mistreating him for something he couldn’t help.
“Stop beating on the kid,” Daredevil dropped down into the alley.
“Jus’ tryin’ to take out the trash, Red,” Castle said. He did draw back, however.
“I’m not a kid!” Spidey protested. Albeit weakly.
“We need your mark for a case,” Daredevil said.
“Really?” Frank asked flatly.
“Yeah,” Daredevil tilted his head, ever so slightly, toward the unconscious mobster. “Do you think I’d speak up for him, otherwise?”
“Of course you would, Altar Boy,” Frank scoffed.
Peter mouthed the words to himself, a bit confused.
“No, I wouldn’t,” Daredevil disagreed. “I’ve been staying out of your business, haven’t I?”
“And I’ve been shooting out knees instead of brains when we go on our little field-trips,” Frank muttered. “Yeah, I see the pattern. Fuck. Fine, Red. But you owe me.”
Daredevil, showing significantly more personality than Peter usually saw him show, gave a full-body eye roll in response. “I might have something or other you’d be interested in,” he said. “Some out-of-reach mob contacts that the system hasn’t been able to touch—”
“Not the kind of owing I was thinking.”
Peter could have sworn that Frank Castle, the big bad Punisher, himself, winked at Daredevil.
Daredevil frowned back at him.
“See you around, Red.”
“Right,” Daredevil said.
And then Castle was gone.
“That’s it?” Peter asked.
“What?” Daredevil turned to him.
“You can just... talk him out of killing people, now?” Peter threw his hands in the air.
“We’ve been working on compromises,” Daredevil sighed.
Peter’s frown deepened. “So, you’ll compromise for a mass murderer, but you won’t learn sign for an ally?”
“What?”
Peter waved him off. “Never mind. I’m gonna go.”
--
Next time Peter saw Daredevil, it was strictly for business reasons. Another drug-case adjacent thing. But he’d have Wade for a buffer, so he wouldn’t have to deal directly with Daredevil if he didn’t want to. And boy did he not want to. There was just... something really discouraging about learning that someone you considered a friend was ableist.
Peter showed up a bit early to the agreed-upon roof and—
“Okay, so. Some of these I recognize. Bit dated, but military.” That was Punisher.
“I didn’t ask for a—” that was Daredevil.
“And some of it is ASL,” Punisher interrupted. “Or a bit left of ASL. The letters are all ASL, anyway. The rest is either intuitive or just a clever conservation of movement without sacrificing meaning, visually.”
“Right,” Daredevil sighed.
Peter was tempted to creep closer, but Daredevil was always wickedly good at picking out other presences nearby, so he held his breath and listened, instead. And, yeah, Aunt May had told him that eavesdropping was bad and all—but he was curious! Sue him!
“So, this...” Punisher paused, “...means that you can’t speak.”
“This is pointless,” Daredevil huffed. Peter could swear he could hear Daredevil jump to his feet, teeth grinding. “It’s too close to the signs you showed me, before. I won’t be able to tell from a distance—”
“Sit the fuck down, Matthew,” Castle said.
Peter startled enough to, apparently, make a noise, because Daredevil and Castle both stopped making noise. But... that was a name. Punisher knew Daredevil’s name? Or... or had a name picked out for him? Why?
Peter’s Spidey Sense went off and he swung ‘round to find Castle, right there, gun aimed at his center mass.
“Shit, kid,” Punisher put the safety on.
“You’re early,” Daredevil said, from above.
Peter glanced up at the roof of the... roof access to find the Devil himself adjusting his cowl, like he’d just put it on, in a hurry. Did the Punisher actually know who was under Daredevil’s mask?
Before Peter could check his ADHD and not say something he’d regret, he spat out a: “Are you two dating?” Which was probably the stupidest jump of logic he’d ever made in his... okay, wait. Actually, Daredevil turned about as red as his suit, at the question. Peter frowned and turned to Castle, who had a carefully neutral look on his face. “No way,” Peter muttered.
Castle didn’t react much, but glanced at Daredevil and offered a nod. “See ya ‘round, Red.”
Daredevil didn’t respond.
Castle seemed to get what he wanted out of the interaction, anyway, and melted back into the depth of the shadows.
Peter was still shell-shocked.
--
Later, Peter was thinking about the stuff he’d heard, before Castle had his gun pointed at him, and realized that the Punisher was... helping Daredevil learn sign? Or something to that effect. But that had the disturbing implication of Punisher knowing what the Avengers might be signing at each other.
Peter resolved to maybe... not bring that up to Tony. It wasn’t a for sure thing, anyway.
--
Until it was a for sure thing.
Punisher, in full daylight, traipsed his way into an Avengers battle, right on the streets of New York, and not far behind Daredevil when Daredevil joined in.
Peter heard what he thought was Italian – Francis Castiglione, right, Frank was Italian, and his birth surname was brought up during those infamous trials a few years back – but Peter heard what he thought was Italian, coming from the Punisher. And they sounded like translations of the hand signs the Avengers were coordinating with.
Peter saw the exact moment Hawkeye realized that Castle knew the signs. And then the exact moment that Castle knew Hawkeye knew, and started responding to signs from across the battlefield.
So, yeah.
Apparently Daredevil let a very dangerous, mass-murdering fugitive in on the coded sign that the Avengers used. But still hadn’t bothered to learn it, himself, given that Castle was literally translating the signs for him, but in Italian (ostensibly to keep the enemy wrong-footed and ignorant to the next thing the Avengers were going to do).
Granted, the Punisher had a personal standard and a set of morals, and was probably more rigid with them than Deadpool was, so maybe Peter shouldn’t judge too much—
But the fact remained that Daredevil seemed to be outsourcing the Avengers’ private code to someone, without even warning the Avengers in advance. And the Avengers all started to notice, until everyone was stewing with the knowledge by the end of the fight. Punisher and Daredevil, both, disappeared before there could be a confrontation, however.
--
“I know you trust him, Pete,” Tony sighed over his latest project. “But he keeps doing things that aren’t exactly trust inspiring, you know?”
“Yeah,” Peter muttered. He leaned up against Tony’s work station, arms crossed. “I didn’t... know he’d done that. For long, anyway. And I wasn’t sure until I saw, you know, Frank Castle signing at Hawkeye.”
“Yeah, what is the deal, there?” Tony shook his head.
“He was translating the signs for DD,” Peter continued.
“Was he?” Tony glanced sideways at Peter.
“Yeah, in Italian. I know some Italian, and more Spanish. What I could make out was, you know, the stuff we were signing back and forth. I mean, not me. My hands were kind of busy. But the rest of you, the big brains making the plans n’ stuff,” Peter shrugged weakly.
“Wonder what’s up with that,” Tony got thoughtful.
Peter suddenly got the distinct feeling that Tony held more benefit of doubt than he himself did, which was kind of an uncomfortable thought, given that Tony was suspicious of Daredevil before Peter ever was, and Peter was friends with Daredevil where Tony barely had contact with him. Or. Had been friends. Peter wasn’t even sure where he stood with the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, lately, given the debacle that was Daredevil’s apparent reluctance to accommodate Clint, if nothing else.
Tony glanced at Peter. “Maybe we should ask.”
“I think you were right, before. About, like, him being cool with stuff because it was me, his friend. And not being okay with... disability n’ stuff on a whole.” Peter kicked at the floor, eyes downcast.
“Let’s not jump the gun, Pete,” Tony murmured.
“I’m trying not to.”
“I know, kid. I know.”
--
Next time Team Red had a meet up, Peter intentionally showed up much earlier, hoping to catch Daredevil as soon as he arrived so that he could have a relatively private chat with him, about the whole thing. He wasn’t sure where Tony was getting his benefit of the doubt shit, but he was... he hoped Tony was right, this time, and that they were maybe missing something.
However, it seemed that Peter, though he’d shown up maybe an hour ahead of their little meeting, hadn’t shown up before Daredevil.
He eased himself onto the meeting roof and listened—
“Like this,” Castle said.
“I don’t—” Daredevil tried to say.
“Like this , Red,” Castle said, a bit more forcefully. “It’s okay to touch if you need the guide.”
“I don’t need it,” Daredevil muttered, almost too quiet for Peter.
“If you want the guide,” Castle amended. “C’mon, we’ve done worse to each other. There, the sign is like this, and it goes... here. Yeah. A bit higher or lower doesn’t matter too much, the meaning should come across—that’s my nose.”
“I like your nose.”
“I’m trying to show you the sign they have for ‘enemies ahead,’ Red,” Castle sounded fond, if a bit frustrated.
“What’s the point? I won’t be able to tell this sign from ‘enemies behind’ or ‘enemies above,’” they’re all too similar. I’ll just catch ‘enemies,’ out of it, if I don’t confuse that with one of the other signs—”
“Sure, but you’ll be able to sign at them, anyway.”
Peter crept closer. Daredevil must have been focused in on Castle, because Peter didn’t seem to be on his radar at all.
“Okay,” Castle said. “Keep your hand on mine, I’ll show you how the signs ‘re different. Yeah? Enemies ahead. Enemies behind. Enemies above.”
“What about below?”
“Just point at the ground, I dunno. That’s not in this video,” Castle said. “I’ll look through the others and tell you, later, if you need it.”
“I don’t need it. I still don’t think there’s a point—”
Peter managed to get to the corner around which he’d almost certainly be able to see Daredevil and his unexpected study partner. Already, though, he was starting to get a bit of an understanding of what Daredevil’s issue was. Somehow it was the videos, themselves? Like, he needed Castle to show him what the signs on the videos were, for some reason.
Peter glanced around the corner.
Daredevil sat with his back to Peter, across from a cross-legged Castle. The Daredevil cowl thing sat next to him. As far as Peter could tell, Daredevil’s hair was a rusty orange-red that stood up in shocks of helmet-hair disarray.
Castle’s guns were set to either side, along with a laptop, and Frank was leaning in, toward Daredevil, so that Daredevil could keep a hand over Castle’s as Castle shifted through the signs he was saying. It was... an odd teaching method, sure.
“Now you try,” Castle leaned back.
Daredevil immediately mixed the signs up.
“No, this,” Castle said.
Daredevil huffed and dropped his hands into his lap. “There’s no point,” he said.
“You’re close, Red. Don’t give in to that frustration,” Castle’s encouragement was steely and gruff, but somehow still seemed to bolster Daredevil, a bit.
“What’s the point—”
“C’mon, Red. You won’t get it if you don’t try.”
Castle repeated the hand sign and accompanying motion.
“I don’t—” Daredevil huffed and leaned back on his hands. “I’m not going to get it.”
“Not if you don’t try,” Castle agreed. He scooted a bit closer and took one of Daredevil’s hands (ungloved, Peter noted). “Here.” Castle set Daredevil’s hand back on top of his own, then formed the sign that he was trying to get Daredevil to attempt, “It’s not that difficult, you’re letting the frustration get to you.”
“It’s confusing.” Daredevil curled his hand around Castle’s, less to learn and more to just to hold.
“Happens, doesn’t it? Hard enough when you can see, Red,” Frank chuckled.
And—
And that made sense, didn’t it?
That answered a lot.
And Peter felt like a horrible person for not giving Daredevil more benefit of doubt.
Daredevil tilted his head a bit more, then, listening. Really listening, in fact. Peter felt like a bit of an idiot for not realizing that that was how Daredevil was collecting leads, all through the case Team Red was doing. And all the cases before that, come to think of it.
“Spider-Man,” Daredevil said.
Punisher stiffened. “How long’s he been there?”
“I... wasn’t paying attention.” Daredevil picked up his cowl and put it back on, then turned to pick out Peter’s hiding spot.
“Aw, shucks, Red. You were giving me all your attention?” Castle teased.
Daredevil laughed, briefly, his frown melting away. “Shut up, Frank.”
Peter abashedly left his hiding spot to approach. “So. You can’t see?” he asked.
Castle swore, colourfully and in Italian. “Sorry, Red.”
“It’s fine, Frank.” Daredevil still had his head tilted. Still listening, as if trying to pick up on anything he might have missed when the Punisher was the center of his attention.
“Why didn’t you just... say that?” Peter asked.
“He didn’t owe your little club that,” Castle scoffed.
“I... I guess you’re right.”
“I’m. Private about my life,” Daredevil said, carefully. Exception being Punisher, for whatever reason, apparently.
“You let us all think you weren’t interested in-in. You know. In being more accessible for Clint, or cooperating with the team. You let us give you a bunch of brochures and papers and you just. You never said anything,” Peter bounced his leg, more and more irritated with himself.
“What people think of me doesn’t matter,” Daredevil said philosophically.
“And then you went out of your way to ask, uh, Mr. Castle for help?”
“I offered,” Castle corrected gruffly. “Saw his brochures and knew he couldn’t read the damn things. Asked ‘bout them. Offered to help.”
“Okay,” Peter said slowly. The implication of Castle having been in, what?, the implication of Castle having been in Daredevil’s home didn’t go over Peter’s head. He filed that information for later, albeit with a flustered confusion that made his leg-bouncing worse. “And we were, like, worried that you were giving Avengers stuff to-to-to...”
“A killer,” Castle offered, deadpan.
“The Punisher,” Peter shook his head. “Lots of the Avengers have had to kill. I-I-I mean. Thor’s not exactly opposed, and Clint and Nat are both—”
“Relax, kid,” Castle said. He turned to Daredevil. “I’m gonna head out.”
Daredevil turned. “I’ll see you.”
“No, you won’t,” Frank scoffed. He stood and gathered his weapons and laptop.
After Frank left, whatever wind was left in Peter’s metaphorical sails just. Stagnated. Left. He didn’t know what to do or say. So, he awkwardly geared the rest of his thought and actions towards the case, and keeping Wade on task for the case.
--
And then it occurred to Peter, later, when he was talking to Tony again, that Daredevil’s secrets weren’t his to tell.
Unfortunately, for him, he realized this mid-sentence, where the sentence’s natural conclusion would have probably been about how badly he’d misjudged Daredevil, and how so. But he couldn’t just drop the other vigilante’s secrets like that, even if it was to someone he trusted, like Tony.
Tony who glanced at him with raised eyebrows. “Well?”
“No, uh. Never mind.” Peter dropped his gaze. “Um, just—” he shrugged again.
“Just?” Tony prodded.
“I think I—may have jumped the gun on judging Daredevil,” he settled on.
“Mm.”
Peter shrugged.
“And, seeing how you’ve quit the thought twice, I assume you’re not keen on telling me why, huh?”
“It’s not that, Mr. Stark!” Peter glanced up, eyes wide. “It’s not that at all, I just—!”
“Relax, kid,” Tony reached over to pick up his bag of trail mix. “Want some?”
“No, thanks.”
“Relax,” Tony repeated. “You’re not exactly obligated to tell me everything, are you? Sure, we had a few rough spots and miscommunications, especially back when you were younger and all, but you’re kind of entitled to your space. Your secrets, yeah?”
“Okay,” Peter still felt his shoulders slump, disappointed in himself.
“You obviously feel that it’s important, whatever it is you don’t want to tell,” Tony said. “Go with your gut, kid. Not everything needs to be publicly aired. And, well, seems like there’s a third party involved, hm? Our mutual friend, there? Protecting other people, especially if it’s not a secret actively hurting anyone, isn’t necessarily a bad thing, Pete.”
“I know.”
“You don’t look like you know.”
“I’ll get there,” Peter offered him a smile. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. Now quit your moping and help me take another look at these designs. I’m losing power somewhere and it’s pissing me off. I want a tighter circuit, less wasted energy, but I’m not seeing where I can do that—”
--
Peter started on his new, self-assigned personal quest: get Daredevil to bring the Punisher to an Avengers meeting.
There were a few holes in the plan.
Namely, the Avengers were leery of Daredevil and his issues with the signs they were using. And that the Avengers absolutely didn’t trust the Punisher. But, hey! If they could accept Deadpool into their ranks, however semi-officially, they could probably stand to spend a bit of time around Frank Castle.
As was becoming habit, though, he showed up early to the next case-related meet, in order to try and catch Daredevil for a word or two, alone, before Deadpool was around. Not because he didn’t trust Wade, of course – he trusted Wade with his life, for sure – but because he wanted to try and respect Daredevil’s privacy. He’d said, himself, that he was a private guy, after all.
As with the other two times, Peter also happened to show up and find the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen practicing his signing with Castle.
“Hey,” Peter called. “It’s me!”
Castle sighed and sat back on his hands.
Daredevil dropped his own hands, to the cowl in his lap, and put the mask back on, then turned in Peter’s direction. “Not eavesdropping, this time?”
Peter felt very warm under his mask of a sudden, “Nope,” he agreed.
“Big of you,” Castle scoffed.
“Be nice,” Daredevil turned partway back to Castle, smirking.
“Or what?” Castle smirked back, if only for a moment.
“So! I was thinking,” Peter approached. He was tempted to stick his hands in pockets – jeans or hoodie – but he wasn’t wearing either, so he managed to reign the motion in and just prop his hands on his hips, instead. “Why don’t you bring Mr. Castle around?”
“Around?” Daredevil’s smile slipped into confusion.
“You know! To the Tower.”
“Bad idea,” Castle rolled his eyes, like that was obvious.
“There’s warrants out for his arrest, Spider-Man,” Daredevil said. He managed not to sound patronizing while saying it, though. Like he wanted to make sure Peter knew that, not that he thought Peter was dumb for possibly not having knowing that.
“I know,” Peter said. “But, like, we’ve got a great rec room.” He turned to Castle. “And the range is amazing. Widow and Hawkeye both use it a lot, to Mr. Stark has it up to spec and then some! We’ve also got some cool equipment for the gym, brand new stuff because, ya know, the super-soldiers can’t seem to contain themselves, sometimes—”
“Are you trying to sell me on a field trip?” Castle blinked at him in confusion, head tilted. He must have gotten that from the way Daredevil was always tilting his head.
“I mean, a friend of Daredevil’s probably trustworthy—I mean. I trust his judgement,” Peter said. He shifted his weight back and forth a bit, eternally unable to stand perfectly still, then added: “There’s also a literal arcade! Pinball machines and all. It’s really cool.”
“Kid, what part of ‘bad idea’ aren’t you getting?” Castle asked.
Peter pouted, and he didn’t think the mask was enough to hide the fact that he was pouting. “I just think it might be nice. You’re helping Daredevil, right?”
“Why, you talkin’ bout me, kid?”
Peter shook his head, quickly. “No! I mean, I wish I could? But that doesn’t seem fair, talking behind someone’s back like that.” He could feel the urge to babble pressing down on him, but he held his tongue. Literally, biting down on his tongue to keep from letting the waterfall of only barely related topics spill out.
Castle regarded him with a critical eye, then scoffed, rolled his eyes, and went to gather up his things before leaving.
“Frank isn’t really a people person,” Daredevil said. He probably didn’t mean it to sound so fond.
Peter turned to him. “I wanted to apologize to you.”
“For what?” Daredevil frowned.
“For thinking the worst of you after all we’d been though, you know? I know you’re a good person, but I saw how hesitant you were about learning sign, and I saw how you never seemed to want to talk about it, and I...”
Daredevil waved him off. “You didn’t know.”
“Yeah, but I could have at least asked. Given you the benefit of the doubt.” Peter sighed and dropped his gaze to the bit of rooftop between his feet. “I jumped to all sorts of unkind conclusions. That wasn’t good at all, really.”
“You really don’t have to apologize,” Daredevil said, softer.
“I want to.”
Daredevil was quiet for a one moment, then nodded. “Thank you.”
Frank then clapped Daredevil on the shoulder, which didn’t even startle the man – though it did startle Peter. He grinned, a fierce light in his eyes. “It’s good of him to apologize, Red. Gotta acknowledge when you fuck up. Keeps kneecaps in-tact.”
Peter gaped at him.
“You wouldn’t, Frank. He’s a kid,” Daredevil was definitely glaring at Frank, though his cowl didn’t show much change in his expression, except for the downward curve of his mouth.
“He woulda lived,” Frank absently kissed the side of Daredevil’s head, on the cowl, then turned to walk away.
Peter waited until he was out of sight before clearing his throat. “He’s scary.”
“Ignore him, he’s just trying to be intimidating. He only shoots people who deserve it,” Daredevil waved him off.
--
The next few days were a blur of activity as Peter buckled down to complete weekly college assignments and the drug-and-mob-stuff case finally reached a sort of conclusion. Granted, it was the sort of conclusion that had Peter going through SHIELD to pass on information to the FBI (because Daredevil and Deadpool, both, didn’t trust SHIELD or have contacts within it). But it was a busy few days, even with offloading the case to the FBI.
Frankly, Peter completely forgot about inviting the Punisher to Avengers’ Tower. He also completely forgot to at least warn Tony, and the other Avengers, that he’d done exactly that.
Granted, Peter hadn’t really thought anything would come of inviting the Punisher, himself, to the Tower. But, man, assumptions could really backfire. Like the moment JARVIS was alerting Peter to a lockdown of all floors, and a quiet “drill” to get people out of the building.
“What?” Peter asked.
JARVIS repeated the information, a bit snidely.
“What happened?” Peter asked.
“The Punisher, Francis Castiglione, alias Frank Castle, has been spotted on the premises—” JARVIS started.
Peter swore colourfully. “Cancel the thing, JARVIS! Cancel it, It's not an emergency!”
“You do not have the security clearance necessary to cancel an emergency contingency or lockdown,” JARVIS informed him.
“Where’s Tony then? Or Cap? Or someone with the security clearance needed? Because it’s not an emergency and this is gonna look really bad...!” Peter whined and tugged at his hair, regretting his own lack of proactivity. He’d just... gotten so wrapped up in his homework, and the assumption that it didn’t matter because Frank Castle wouldn’t be tempted by the invitation.
“Mr. Stark is in his lab. Mr. Rogers is in the lounge. Thor is in the gym—” JARVIS said. He continued listing off the Avengers with the security clearance required to turn off the alarms and contingency plans, but Peter was already skidding out of his room. He was on the right floor to access the lounge, and if all the floors were locking down, that meant it’d be a hell of a lot easier to get to the lounge than to Tony’s lab, about four floor below all the Avengers accommodations.
“Thanks, JARVIS!” Peter called.
“Would it be more efficient to put in a call?” JARVIS asked.
And, uh, yeah.
Yeah, JARVIS was probably right, but Peter was already committed to the lounge plan and talking face-to-face with Steve. He was also already skidding around the corner into the lounge – basically an open concept kitchen, dining room, and sitting or TV room – where Steve was all business, conferring with Tony and Bruce about the trespassing of Frank Castle.
“Cap!” Peter said. He skidded into a wall, very gracefully. “Oh, ow. Cap!” He pushed away from the wall and swung towards Steve.
Steve blinked at him a few times.
Right, Peter didn’t usually hang around the Tower, or the Avengers in general, unless he was in uniform. He cleared his throat and straightened out his sweatshirt. He resisted the urge to try and fix his hair (it was beyond help, anyway – just another fact of life). “Cap, hey. Uh,” Peter shoved his hands into the kangaroo pocket of his sweatshirt, almost forgetting the reason he was even there. “Oh! You should turn the alarms off!”
“Who—you’re Spider-Man, right? I mean. I really hope you are, otherwise I have no idea who you are or how you got up here—”
“Yeah, I’m Spider-Man, want me to stick to a wall or something?” Peter gave a nervous laugh. “Seriously, you should turn the alarms off and call off the lockdown.”
“The Punisher is in the building. He has a long history of intense and unnecessary violence. We’re not going to risk the people in this building by letting up on the lockdown until everyone who needs to be removed from a potentially dangerous situation have been removed—”
“I invited him!”
“What?”
“Yeah, I invited him,” Peter said. He flushed high on his cheekbones and resisted the urge to look away. Steve was pretty old-school. Respect was easiest to convey to him through eye contact and, god, Peter wasn’t sure what else. And eye contact wasn’t too-too hard. Peter could handle eye contact. Most of the time.
“Why would you invite a murderer—” Steve cut himself off with a self-aware grimace.
“He’s a friend! And it’s not like he kills good people—” Oh, shoot, that was a bad argument, for the older Avengers members, actually. They weren’t as morally flexible as the second-generation heroes tended to be. Except Thor. Thor understood flexible moralities and having a different standard than your comrades might have.
Steve narrowed his eyes at Peter for a long minute, then sighed. “JARVIS? Turn off lockdown. It’s a false alarm.”
“I assure you, the Punisher is certainly on the premises. Therefore, it is not a false alarm,” JARVIS said. Even so, he lifted the lockdown measures and silenced the (already silent) alarms. “Shall I inform Mr. Stark of the change in status?”
“Of course,” Steve said. He turned back to Peter. “I hope I won’t regret this.”
“Yeah, me too.” Peter skidded his way back out of the lounge. Which was about when he realized he was shoeless, actually. That explained a lot. He backtracked to his room, where his homework lay completely abandoned on the desk, and where his sneakers sat innocently beside his bed. Peter shoved his feet into his sneakers, not bothering to untie them first, then bolted to the elevator.
He really hoped that none of the other Avengers got to Castle and Daredevil, first.
--
Apparently, it was too much to hope that no one would get to Castle first. Then again, Punisher was pretty dangerous, right? Of course the Avengers would be leery of his presence, and want to find out why he was there.
So, of course Natasha and Clint were there, both looking prickly and suspicious.
Castle glanced up as Peter stepped off the elevator, then sighed and turned back to Natasha. “I already told you, Itsy Bitsy invited me.”
“Spider-Man,” Daredevil corrected.
“I did!” Peter trotted over, then cleared his throat. “I mean, yeah, it was me. I invited him, Nat. I-I-I mean Ms. Romanova.”
Natasha, Castle, Daredevil, and Clint all looked at Peter like he’d grown a second head. Or maybe like he’d just showed his face to a grand total of four people he’d never shown his face to.
Peter blinked back at them.
“You’ve got red hair?” Clint asked.
It was, objectively, the least important part of the whole situation, and for that Peter was grateful. “Redheads have higher pain tolerance,” Peter said. A bit nonsensically. He gave it a beat, then decided to source his ridiculous observation. “MythBusters says so.”
Another silence fell on the small group.
Castle broke it with a snort, eyeing Daredevil. “Makes sense.”
Daredevil did one of his full-body eyerolls and shoved Castle.
“Catholic redhead, it’s no wonder you can take a beating,” Castle muttered. Peter only barely caught it.
Daredevil cracked a smile. “Maybe.”
“So, Spidey,” Clint said, still a bit perturbed. “What brings you downstairs, no mask and dressed in your oversized depression hoodie?”
“It’s not that bad,” Peter looked down at his hoodie. And, okay, maybe it was a bit worse for the wear. “I was studying. JARVIS told me about the situation.” He glanced back up. “And it’s kinda my fault, because I forgot to tell anyone about inviting him, so...”
A theatrical gasp broke into the conversation. “Spidey?!”
Peter instinctually braced for the crash of affection and exuberance that Deadpool usually brought to the party. He still released a huff of air in surprise when Wade crashed into him and hugged him so hard that it lifted him off the ground. “Hey... Wade,” Peter managed.
“I haven’t seen you in civvies for months!” Wade cooed.
Peter laughed, though with some measure of effort since Wade was still doing his best to crush Peter’s ribs. “Kind of in the middle of something, DP.”
Wade set him back down, but didn’t let go of his waist. He lay his head on Peter’s shoulder. “Doesn’t Petey have the cutest little face?” Wade asked.
“Anyway,” Peter reached up to push at Wade’s face, albeit a bit halfheartedly. He didn’t mind, honestly. “I invited Mr. Punisher because—” did he just call Castle ‘Mr. Punisher?’ “Um. I invited him because, you know, he’s DD’s friend and I’m trying this new thing where I actually trust my friends and not assume the worst, just because something looks maybe not-great.”
“Mr. Punisher,” Clint snickered.
“Shut up,” Peter shot him an embarrassed smile.
“This about the sign thing?” Castle asked.
Clint and Natasha turned to him sharply.
Peter shrugged weakly, though. “I feel bad for assuming Daredevil was, I dunno, purposely not learning the signs. Purposely ignoring the resources and all that. And I know better, now, so...”
“Oh? News to me,” Clint said. Granted, he said it with a bit of amusement. Out of the Avengers, he was probably the least offended by Daredevil’s perceived sleights against his handicap.
On the other hand, Natasha was one of the most offended, taking on the offense Clint wasn’t taking on. She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at Punisher, then Daredevil, then Peter, himself. “Oh, is it not on purpose now? Sounds like it wasn’t just the invite you forgot to pass on, Little Spider.”
Peter smiled and shrugged,
Movement from Daredevil, slow and careful, pulled Peter’s attention back over to him, as well as everyone else’s. Except Deadpool’s, but Deadpool was still embracing Peter and cooing into his shoulder about how cute his face was, or something.
Daredevil reached up, though, and took his cowl off.
“Oh,” Clint said.
“Oh,” Nat echoed.
“Aw, Red, you don’t need to prove anything to them,” Frank scoffed.
“I have trouble with the signing resources,” Daredevil said. Though, with his cowl off, it was pretty obvious why the resources weren’t cutting it for him. “Luckily, Frank has been helping me learn the signs. I’m afraid I’m going to probably have trouble telling some of them apart from a distance, but I should be able to communicate, myself...”
“Seriously?” Clint interrupted.
“Uh,” Daredevil shuffled a bit and turned toward Clint. “Yes?”
There was a long beat of silence. And then Clint made the single most important observation: “You’re a lawyer!” Okay, maybe not the single most important observation.
Peter, though, felt his jaw drop. “Oh shit, wait, you’re right—” he could remember the Punisher case. So he could just about recognize the redhead standing there, Daredevil cowl in hand. Matthew M. Murdock, attorney at law.
And then Peter felt really dumb, because he’d definitely heard Castle call him Matt and Matthew, both. He probably should’ve been able to put it together, especially once he knew Daredevil was blind.
“Actually, guys, I’m more focused on him being blind,” Natasha deadpanned. “Is no one seeing the irony of trying to get a blind guy to learn sign language? Seriously?”
