Chapter Text
Elliott was pissed.
She’d promised herself a night off, well-deserved after a week with a whopping total of ten hours of sleep, but then she’d made the colossally stupid decision of turning on her stolen police scanner – just for a quick check-in, she’d told herself. And now – well, now she was on her way to Hell’s Kitchen, fuming with anger at both her own stupidity and the fucking idiot who had decided to rob a bank at ten o’clock on a fucking Sunday evening.
She looked around, making sure no one was watching, before she broke into a run and leapt, landing smoothly on the roof of the nearest building. Her ankle, which she’d twisted sometime last week while chasing a would-be rapist, smarted uncomfortably but she ignored it; she’d had far worse since she’d started going out and beating up dirt-bags at night.
It didn’t take her long to get to the bank in question; leaping from roof to roof tended to be much faster than using the streets. Except, when she got there, she wasn’t the first.
Goddamned Daredevil was perched on the edge of a building, head cocked to the side like he was listening. She’d seen him in passing a few times before, but this was the first time she’d come close to him, and it only confirmed her opinion that his costume was ridiculous. Seriously, why had he thought the horns were a good idea? She preferred the simple black scarf thing he’d had going on before, though she wasn’t sure how he’d been able to see through that thing.
He turned around before she’d even landed on his rooftop, when he realistically shouldn’t have been able to hear her yet. Elliott filed that information away somewhere in the recesses of her brain with a little note attached. Enhanced?
“Well, hello there.” she said as soon she was within a normal person’s earshot. “Seems like I got beaten to the punch.”
Daredevil stared at her from those strange opaque eyes of his, silent for a long moment. Finally he said: “Gravity. I wondered when I would finally run into you.”
Elliott cringed. The name had been coined by a reporter who had seen her in action a few months ago, and while it wasn’t technically entirely inaccurate it was just so… lame. It was just a stupid, descriptive noun, not even remotely as cool as Iron Man or Captain America or Daredevil.
Nevertheless she nodded, grimacing under the balaclava she used to cover her face. “That’s me.” she said. “Gravity.”
Daredevil looked almost amused for a moment, but it vanished so quickly Elliott could convince herself she’d imagined it. “Nice to meet you.” he said, his voice ridiculously low and gravelly.
She grinned at him. “Likewise. But before we get to the awkward small talk, we should probably deal with that idiot bank robber down there.”
“There’s two, actually.” he said. “One guarding the door, and one in the back with the manager. He was still here doing some paperwork; they probably cased out the bank.”
Elliott whistled through her teeth. “Not bad.” she said. “How’d you figure all that out?”
He paused for too long, causing her to mark the possibly-enhanced information in her brain with a large, red exclamation mark. Her guess was on some kind of heightened sense of hearing, or possibly x-ray vision or something of the like – whatever it was, probably something way cooler than her own gravity manipulation thing.
“I’ve been watching them for a while.” he said after a moment. Elliott didn’t believe him for a second, but she also didn’t feel like hashing that out right this moment; from what she’d heard about him he seemed like a decent enough guy, and besides temporarily partnering up with him was probably the surest way of getting back home as quickly as possible.
“Alright then.” she said. “I know you’re usual more of a one-man show, but this’ll probably go much faster if we team up. I’m too fucking tired for this already.”
Again Daredevil seemed like he was fighting a laugh for a moment – most likely at her, but she was kind of used to that by now, so she didn’t mind too much – but his face, or what was visible of it, morphed back into an expressionless mask almost immediately. “I agree.” he said. “There’s an open second-floor window. If we go in through there, we can split up and take both of them out at the same time.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Elliott agreed. “Let’s go, then.”
She didn’t wait for Daredevil; instead she ran and leapt, landing gracefully on the roof of the bank. Surprisingly, when she turned he was right behind her; apparently incredible parkour skills without the aid of turning off gravity were also in his repertoire. Of course every single vigilante out there is cooler than me, she thought resignedly.
“Over there.” Daredevil said, pointing. “Gotcha.” Elliott replied. “We should probably keep quiet once inside, surprise effect yadda yadda, so do you want the asshole in front or the other asshole?”
“I’ll take the back asshole.” he said dryly, and she grinned at him. “Well then.” she said. “Let’s hurry up and do this. I’ve got a pile of pillows and a bad romcom waiting for me.”
The bank-robbing, weekend-ruining asshole was easy; he dropped his gun when a flick of her finger made it too heavy for him, and then he himself dropped after a well-placed kick to the head. Elliott could already see a chill evening of doing absolutely nothing within her reach, only when she came into the back after tying up the guy she’d just taken down she found a bloodied second bank robber and a Daredevil with his scary level turned all the way up, holding said bank robber up by the neck.
“Tell me what you’ve got to do with the Hand.” he snarled, and damn, Elliott could really see now why people called him the devil of Hell’s Kitchen. “You’ve got three seconds before I break another one of your bones.”
“Whoa, slow down.” Elliott said, sighing inwardly as she half-jogged to Daredevil’s side, because apparently she just could not keep out of situations that promised nothing but trouble. “Maybe hold off the bone-breaking for just a moment. What the hell is going on?”
Daredevil didn’t even look at her. “This is not your fight, Gravity.” he growled, his voice somehow even lower than before. “Go home. I can handle it from here.”
Elliott grimaced. While going home was exactly what she wanted right now, she had also, unfortunately, been cursed with somewhat of a moral compass. There was a rumor that Daredevil never killed anyone, sure, but she’d seen how some of those who crossed him ended up; the thought of leaving the bank robber alone with him while he was so obviously enraged made her feel vaguely sick.
Cursing her own disgustingly idealistic self, she said: “I’m sure you can. Is the torture really necessary, though?”
Daredevil’s head whipped around, and Elliott had to force herself to not step back on instinct. He looked seriously pissed, and she had no illusions she could take on him if he chose to attack her. “Go. Home.” he repeated, his voice ridiculously low and gravelly. “I know what I’m doing.”
Elliott bristled at the implication that she, in contrast, did not. The indignation was enough to override her nervousness, which was probably part of the reason she tended to end up in so many shitty situations to start with, but right now she was grateful for it, because it enabled her to raise her chin and say: “So do I. And I tend to view breaking bones for information as more of a last resort thing. I get that you need him to talk, but maybe try some good old-fashioned persuasion first?”
Daredevil’s free hand clenched and unclenched at his side. A muscle in his jaw twitched, and then, to her surprise, he loosened his grip on the bank robber’s neck, letting the man slump, whimpering, against the wall. “Fine.” he snapped. “You have two minutes to try your way.”
Feeling more than a bit triumphant, Elliott stepped forward. Never mind the fact that she wasn’t actually very persuasive or charming or even knew what kind of information Daredevil needed from this guy; for now it pleased her enormously that she had managed to get scary, angry Devil-guy to actually listen to her.
The bank robber, who had pushed himself up into a sitting position and was clutching his left hand to his chest, glance up at her with his expression full of spite. “I’m not falling for your good cop bad cop spiel.” he said, spitting out blood. “I won’t tell you anything. They’ll kill me.”
Elliott opened her mouth and shut it again immediately. Her gaze had settled on a gash in the man’s sleeve, where a tattoo was showing through the torn fabric. It was a word – the name Nicole, wrapping around his bicep in cursive letters.
She hesitated, then internally went fuck it, and decided to go for it. It was not like she had anything to lose.
“They might.” she agreed, though he had no idea who the bank-robber was even talking about beyond the fact that Daredevil had mentioned something called the Hand “But we are very good at keeping our mouths shut about that sort of thing, so they won’t ever have to find out you told us anything. If, however, you decide not to answer our questions…”
She smiled sweetly. “Then I am afraid we would have pay Nicole a visit, to see if she would prove more cooperative.”
Panic twisted the man’s expression. “You wouldn’t… you don’t…”
Elliott smiled even wider. “Oh, we most certainly would. And I don’t think she would enjoy the acquaintance very much. Do you?”
Conflicting emotions flashed over the man’s face. Then, after a moment that felt like a small eternity, he slumped down again, defeated. “Fine.” he said. “Fine. I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”
Elliott hung around while Daredevil asked the man a series of question that all seemed to center around the mysterious organization called the Hand. He couldn’t answer most of them, but some of his replies seemed to please Daredevil; he did, at least, leave without further torture when they heard police sirens approach.
From a nearby rooftop, they watched police officers arrest both robbers and deposit them into the back of a police car. Elliott was slowly coming down off her adrenaline high and felt all the week’s tiredness again; she was so out of it that she had almost forgotten about Daredevil behind her when he spoke.
“That wasn’t bad.”
She turned and gave him a tired grin. “I’m known to be charming.” she lied, then asked: “Are you going to tell me what all that was about?”
Daredevil hesitated visibly. “You don’t want to know.” he said finally. “Getting involved with the Hand’s business is never a good idea.”
Curiosity and tiredness fought a battle inside of Elliott. At last the latter, combined with her admittedly faulty self-preservation instinct, won out and she shrugged. “Fine then.” she said. “Don’t tell me.”
She straightened herself. “Anyway, it was surprisingly alright working with you. See you around?”
Daredevil’s lips twitched again in that sort-of-amused way. “See you around.” he agreed.