Work Text:
It’s just after one in the afternoon when Matt’s phone starts ringing in his suit jacket pocket as he makes his way back to the office from the restaurant where he just had a work lunch. He moves as far right as he can on the sidewalk, hopefully out of the way of other pedestrians as he pauses beside a brick wall. He answers his phone and is immediately surprised to hear Jessica on the line.
“Hello?”
“Murdock, what are you doing right now?” He is equally surprised at how harried she sounds.
“Hey Jess. Nothing important. To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?”
She huffs and he can visualize her matching eye-roll.
“Look, I, uh … I need a favor.”
Matt’s eyebrows nearly graze his hairline.
“Really? What do you need?”
A silent beat passes before she answers him. “Can you come get me?” He doesn’t think he’s imagining the embarrassment in her tone.
“Uhhh, sure, I guess. Where are you?” he asks, more and more curious about the situation with each word she speaks.
Jessica clears her throat. “I’m … at my apartment. Or, well … the alley behind it,” she says.
Matt frowns in confusion. “Okay, well, do you need me to bring you something, or–”
“No, I just need you to get here and help me home,” she says, cutting him off.
“Well, what happened? Are you hurt?” he asks, brows furrowed with concern.
“Ugh, just get here and stop asking questions!” she snaps.
“Okay, yeah. I can do that,” he says with skepticism. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” he says, reorienting himself in the direction of her apartment on the sidewalk.
“Fine. By–,” she says, cutting herself off as she hangs up.
“Bye,” he says to the dead line. Matt shakes his head as he takes the phone away from his ear and returns it to his pocket. He knows his day is about to get a lot more interesting.
—
About fifteen minutes later Matt turns into the alley behind Jessica’s apartment building and carefully makes his way toward where he can hear her heart beating, his cane clacking against the pavement. When he approaches, she is sitting on an overturned crate, leg propped out in front of her. She speaks before he has the chance to.
“Finally. You took your time getting here.”
He smirks at her. “Hello to you too, Jessica.” The tip of his cane grazes her foot on its final arc as he comes to stand in front of her. She recoils instantly, a curse on her lips.
“Shit. Watch it,” she spits.
“Sorry, my mistake,” he answers, giving her a concerned look which she ignores. He plants his cane directly in front of himself and stacks his hands on top of the handle. “So, how can I help you?”
She sighs and looks down. “It’s just what I said. I need you to help me to my apartment.”
He purses his lips and does a quick scan of her internal body systems but finds no internal bleeding or anything else concerning. He cocks his head. “Okay. Nevermind why. How, exactly, do you want me to do that?” he asks with an edge of exasperation.
She reaches up for his arm as she moves to stand. “Just stand there and help me,” she says through gritted teeth.
He notices she doesn’t put any weight on her left leg, the one he grazed with his cane, and the picture of her ailment begins to coalesce in his mind. “So it’s your ankle?” he asks as he offers her his other arm to stabilize her balance.
“No shit, Sherlock,” she grumbles. Once she is steady, she attempts another step, but as soon as she even considers putting any weight on her left leg, she hisses in pain and adjusts her weight to her right leg. “Fuck, I don’t know how we’re going to manage this.”
Matt thinks for a moment, then cracks a smile at her and shrugs. “Well, I could always give you a piggyback ride.”
She scoffs at him. “Are you fucking kidding me? I’m not five.”
“No, you’re not. But I don’t see how we’re going to get you home otherwise. It’s not like I can pick you up and carry you bridal style.”
“Why not?” she shoots back. “Isn’t that the easiest way?”
He gestures to his cane. “Can’t exactly be seen in public not using this.”
A beat passes as she considers his point. She finally sighs and shakes her head. “Dammit, you’re right. Fine.”
Matt suppresses a laugh but allows himself a knowing smirk as he turns and presents his back to her. She wraps her arms around his neck and jumps up on his back. He wraps his left arm around her left leg and she locks her right leg around his torso. With his cane in his right hand, he gingerly takes a step, trying not to jostle her too much. It’s awkward but somehow they make it work, and he continues on his trek toward the street.
A moment of silence passes between them before his curiosity gets the better of him. “So, uh, what happened?” he asks.
She huffs against the back of his head and hesitates for a moment. He waits her out, though, continuing to walk forward. Eventually she responds.
“I had been on the roof doing some investigating and taking some pictures for one of my neighbors, and I went to jump down to the alley here to follow my mark but I wasn’t paying close enough attention to where I was going and I landed wrong. I came down too close to the dumpster and there was a bottle that I landed on with the left half of my foot but not the right and I turned my ankle.”
“Ah,” he says, nodding his head. “Well, I’m sorry. That sucks.”
“Whatever,” she says. “It will be healed by day after tomorrow, but for now I just can’t put weight on it.”
By now they have come out on the sidewalk, and Matt continues around the side of the building toward the front door. He continues using the cane but finds people are giving them an extra wide berth on the sidewalk. He hears a few murmured remarks of surprise as people pass by and wonders what kind of a picture they make for the random passerby.
“Well, I’m glad I could help you,” he says, turning his head to speak over his shoulder.
“Don’t get excited,” she snarks. “You were hardly my first choice. But Malcolm and I are no longer on speaking terms and none of my other neighbors were home.”
He chuckles at her as he adjusts his grip of her left leg.
“Trish?” he offers next.
He feels her tense on his back. “At the Raft,” she finally says.
Matt’s face falls. “Right, sorry, I forgot.” He lets a beat pass, then tries again. “Luke?”
“Busy,” she says, shaking her head.
He pauses for a moment, as though deep in thought. “Danny?”
“Yeah, I totally called Danny to ask for his help,” she drawls, sarcasm dripping from her voice.
Smirking, he chuckles. “Well, at least I can be glad I come before him on the list.”
“Uh huh. Because that says soooo much,” she says in a sardonic tone.
They reach the apartment lobby and she helps him open the doors as they move inside. Once inside the elevator, he clears his throat. “But seriously, thank you for asking me for help. I know I’m bad at that myself, so I imagine it wasn’t easy.”
She scoffs at him. “I should be thanking you. You’re the one actually doing the helping. But … yeah, thanks,” she says softly.
The elevator doors open, breaking the tension of the last moment and Matt sets off down the hallway toward Jessica’s apartment. The clacking of his cane on the tiled floor is the only sound to be heard as they continue on their path.
Once at the door, Jessica fishes her keys out of her pocket and hands them to Matt. He opens the door and walks a few steps inside before she wriggles down and leans on one of the chairs facing her desk.
“Well, thanks for the taxi service, but I think I’m good,” she says.
“Are you sure? Can I get you anything or help you set anything up before I leave?” he asks, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
She hobbles to her desk and bends down to open a drawer, retrieving some whiskey. “No, I’m fine right here,” she says, sitting down at her desk and propping her feet up on the desktop as she opens the bottle and takes a big swig.
“Alright, well, I guess I’ll be on my way then,” he says as he backs toward the door. When he reaches the threshold, he waves and turns to reach for the doorknob.
Just as he is about to open the door, Jessica calls out to him. “Hey Matt … thanks. Really, I … just thanks.”
A small but genuine smile breaks across his face as he turns back to face her. “You’re welcome, Jess. Just know that you can call me first next time you need something.”
“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” she says with a chuckle. She takes another swig of whiskey, then wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “Thanks for the offer, though,” she says as she twists the cap on and sets it down beside her on the desk.
“Anytime,” he says. He lets a beat pass, then turns to the door and lets himself out. As he makes his way to the elevator, he laughs to himself and wonders what exactly it would take for her to take him up on that offer before he decides maybe he doesn’t actually want to know.