memezilla | Rain Meme

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Rain Meme

the rain meme

Ah, rain—the precipitation that the whole world has a love/hate affair with. It waters the garden for free and ruins baseball games. It cools you off in the summer and it causes more ice and sleet to appear in the winter. Sometimes it is lovely and falls at a decent pace for a few hours, other times, it blasts the whole eastern seaboard away.

Poems and songs have been written about it, people have danced in it, others have cursed its entire existence, and still more refuse to go out and drive in it.

Now it’s time to roll some dice and see what the weather will have in store for you today.

directions

1. Comment with your character, series, preferences, etc in the subject.
2. Roll a number between 1-5 with the RGN for an intensity, or choose one you like best
3. Roll 1-15 with the RGN for a situation, or choose one you like best
4. Reply to other comments and play the scenario out!
5. Don’t catch a cold!

intensity

1. DRIZZLE ☂ It’s not too heavy or too light of a downpour, just enough to wash away stuff in the air, water the ground, and clean up the streets.

2. MONSOON ☂ It’s horrible and awful! Rain is coming down in buckets, no one can get anywhere, the wind is whipping everything about, and now the cable is out.

3. SHOWER ☂ Reminds you of early spring, doesn’t it? A nice shower to make everything all green and smell fresh again. Lovely.

4. FLOOD ☂ While rain is good, it can sometimes be bad. Grab a boat!

5. CATS & DOGS ☂ You’re lucky with this one. It’s not the worst storm in the world, but it’s still pretty heavy. Be careful when driving!

prompts

1. A DARK, STORMY NIGHT ☂ You know all those stories that start off with a stormy night before something goes wrong: a murder, an attack by ninjas, a crime. It is one of the best known clichés in the world, and you’re stuck in the middle of it.

2. HUMIDITY ☂ It’s that time of the year again when the humidity rises and the rain has two options: make it worse or make it go away. Good luck getting the latter.

3. GRAY RAIN OF DEPRESSION ☂ We all know this one. Stuck in the middle of no where, or right after an argument, or something that leads to angst, the rain decides to express someone’s feelings in a physical form, serious or over the top.

4. QUIET MORNING ☂ Nothing to do, nowhere to be… sometimes the rain is a welcomed addition to a quiet day. Gives you an excuse to stay in, curl up in a warm blanket and a book, maybe a loved one or a cup of hot chocolate. With sprinkles.

5. PUDDLES ☂ After it rains, what is the number one thing you have to do? Go put on some rubber boots and splash around of course!

6. SUDDEN STORM ☂ It might have been predicted, but sometimes storms just sweep in and do their thing with little to no warning. Hope you’re not outside.

7. THUNDER & LIGHTNING ☂ Loud, surprising, scary, ominous, comforting, fantastic to watch or listen to… some like thunder and lightning, others not so much. Of course, if this happens before a big confrontation, the universe is telling you something.

8. CAN’T GET WORSE ☂ You did not say that. You did not just say that. How many times does this need to be seen in movies and books before anyone learns?

9. STUCK ☂ No, no, no, no. This cannot be happening. What happened to the ten percent chance of rain? You forgot your umbrella and now you’re stuck in it!

10. RUINED PLANS ☂ You had all these wonderful plans to go outside, have some fun in the sunshine, do some errands, maybe a date… and the weather goes against them.

11. DANCING ☂ Sometimes rain is a cause for celebration, or you just feel like doing something spontaneous. Grab someone to join you and get wet!

12. RAIN BATTLE ☂ The most intense, important battles happen in the rain. Verbal spars, punching someone in the guts; it’s all dramatic and climatic. And no one slips.

13. DATE ☂ Aww, don’t let the weather ruin your date! It can be really romantic, being out in the rain, and it’s always fun to go with the flow.

14. A DAY INSIDE ☂ Sometimes, it’s just better to stay inside and enjoy something simple and easy like board games or catching up on TV shows, or maybe the bills.

15. WILD CARD ☂ Was there something I missed? Did you want to roll again or choose your own adventure? Go for it!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Sometimes, Matt really was not as clever as he thought given that the way he'd frankly unconsciously allowed for situations to appear in way for Karen to arise to yet another ridiculous notion. Hearing it from her, though, it was helping. It hurt, but it helped. Getting a better grasp on what her perception of all the events of late was, that was important and more than he could ask for.

He looked shocked though, lines of his face deepening that she'd thought he was a drunk. An alcoholic, cheating, asshole. Awesome: Matthew Murdock, you've really outdone yourself.

Thoughts of what how he could reply danced through his mind, yet he let her go on, glad to have done so. For, she gave a blunt and frank declaration of her assessment, one that pained him more, but with pain came clarity, and clarity was everything.

"It's a reasonable conclusion," he said, voice and heart feeling lame as he ran his teeth gently against his bottom lip, not repeating that what Karen had thought didn't truly reflect reality.

And with those brief words, he let her keep going, not interjecting even when he thought about how he didn't want to lie to her anymore, omission of the truth being just as much of a lie. That he knew he chose what he was doing in the city, with Elektra, over her and Foggy, the trial, his very job. Yet he wouldn't have changed his mind. It was important at the time, and as he pondered how to express that multitude of feelings that he knew would sound awful with actual words, Karen's voice broke again and she asked that.

It made his jaw tighten, mouth jutting over to the side as he tried to hold back the emotion over that idea. "God, Karen, it was always important. With you, and Foggy, I would never write either of you off," because he had no qualms with continuing to include Foggy in the conversation, considering that it simply made sense. "But I didn't know if it was right, it I should tell, or how to tell you..." Then, well, his hand with a mind of its own had trailed up higher to the top of her shoulder before he bridged what little distance there was between them, to move in and embrace her, hands going up to the top of her back, near her shoulder blades, to hug against her, in spite of not having enough words. Even with having left her with pain, with so many unanswered questions.

He didn't know if she'd pull away, and if she did - if she fled away from him, well, he'd let her go. Matt always let people go. Knowing how desperate an action it was, he let his face go in toward her neck, awkwardly not making contact, though he wanted to bury his face there, feels her form against his. "I'm sorry, Karen. I've always wanted to let you in." To every part of himself.

He should have. Had the faith to know that she could protect herself more than he realized; that, even if he had saved her that first night, he wasn't the crowning glory of all safety and protection that he wanted to believe Daredevil could be. She was capable, and he could trust her.

Voice low, eyes closed, he held onto her, hands against her back. "I should've tried, given you the chance." Of course he wanted her to hug back, and in a familiarly desperate tone, added the words, "Can you let me try to prove to you how important it is to me, to be able to try, now? Please."

She knew it wasn't fair. It wasn't his fault that Foggy had told her what he had. It wasn't his fault that she'd basically fallen into their lives, and she was dealing with all that she hadn't seen through, and hadn't realized, and what all she couldn't envision not having told her and yet knowing now.

His words struck her deep, pained and yet wanting to hear them. She wanted to know that he hadn't just hid things and accepted what she had been through as acceptable. She needed to know he knew how she felt, and what she was going through. She didn't want to lose him and Foggy. She didn't want to lose the man that she'd thought about dates with and sharing nights, and working together and talking and all that they could share but now it felt all of that was gone too.

So when he pulled her to him, she didn't resist. Nothing in her wanted to run, wanted to rant and try and get away. Instead she moved into that hold, sliding her hands around his waist and holding him tight to her. She wasn't thinking of those kisses then. Only about how she had thought she would never have this again, never share with him, never have him hold her and care for her as she had thought he did.

"Then you should have," she whispered, choking on the words, "And you still have to tell me more," she said, meaning it. "There isn't enough, and there's things you haven't told me and..." She sniffed, making a soft sound. "And there's things I need to tell you Matt. If... If we're going to try..."

And there it was, allowing that they could, indeed, try. She wasn't sure where they could get, but if they could even just reclaim their friendship, then maybe that could be enough.

Matt wasn't the best at knowing what to say to suggest in reclaiming, starting anew oftentimes, in friendships when they went awry. No qualms about putting in the effort to do so, the starting point tended to throw him. That he and Foggy did so after the latter first found out the mask and suit Matt donned, sure came from willing parties, but it almost felt like it was meant to fall into place.

That was how he felt about his friendship with Karen too. They were meant to be friends and as troublesome a thought it was to let her into the darkest side of his life, he'd chosen to take that risk and wasn't going to back away from it.

A heavy sigh, full of relief, left him when she didn't stop the embrace, holding tightly onto her too. All he thought as she softly spoke back words, still so full of emotion, was agreement as she went on. Whatever she might have to tell him? Perhaps foolishly, or because of how much all of what they spoke of truly had to do with himself and Daredevil, he didn't think into it. Just that she had other things to express to him. It wasn't selfish, he was just too engrossed with aiming to patch up what he'd erroneously done, to help pave a way to having something akin to what they had before.

Face shifting farther in toward her neck when she'd choked on her words, he pulled away just so, though maintained a deeper level of calm in his stance, at least, given how relieved he was that she was letting them stay as he'd encouraged them toward.

"Ask. Anything. I mean it, Karen. I'll tell you whatever you want to know." Totally sincere in that. "Full disclosure." Thinking that what she might need to tell him had to do with, well, what they were discussing? He let those words answer for all she'd said.

Hands pressing against her, cheek almost brushing up against hers, he whispered, "I want a shot, to be your friend again. A real friend." Which was entirely true as well. He felt the pang of regret over losing what they'd had, as far as the dates and kisses and other unspoken ideas had gone, yet it was a fleeting thought. Focusing on their friendship, rebuilding it, that's what mattered.

"We can talk, however long you want. Here. Or, somewhere to get coffee." With a light click of his teeth as he paused, voice still quiet, pondering whether or not to make his next thought aloud. "I can always break into your building if you want back in there too." Well, it was true.

It all felt like madness, that life had fallen apart and left them both scattered into tiny pieces over the entirity of Hell's Kitchen. Yet standing there in the rain, feeling the soft drops hit her skin, sliding through her hair and down the back of her neck, all of it would become a reminder of this moment. A reminder of feeling Matt's arms around her, so strong in that hold and knowing just how strong he truly was. It would make her think about feeling the tiny pieces starting to once more fuse back together. Just those first tiny bits but it was a start.

Her fingers caught the back of his shirt, balling up in the fabric as if fearing he would try to pull away, not willing to let him go. Despite knowing he was still in Hell's Kitchen, still technically in her life, but this was different. This was learning that just because he was Daredevil, it didn't mean they couldn't, maybe just maybe, still have them as well.

And she would just seek friendship, knowing that she had to have that... but it didn't mean she wouldn't think about what else they could have had, how much more she would love to have with him. Her heart would recover, but not having him in her life at all, she wouldn't make it then.

When he shifted, she tugged at his shirt, pulling him back in close with her. "Don't go. Please. Matt." She wanted to almost beg, to plead even though she knew he wasn't leaving, and he wasn't going to go away. Not yet.

Despite the pain, she laughed when he talked about breaking into her place. It shouldn't have been funny, but it would have been before, even now.

"Well, I have coffee at my place and less people listening but, if you would feel better somewhere open," she murmured, not wanting him to feel trapped if they went back to her place, but some of the things she knew they needed to talk about were not things they needed others to overhear as well.

Perhaps chaos followed Matt throughout his whole life, maybe even Karen's too, who knew. That was certainly how it seemed for the former, in his own experiences. The longer she stayed with him, not pulling away to push him further outside the realm of possibility for rebuilding what'd been lost, the less he focused on all of the consequences of having been outright welcoming to that chaos into his world. That somewhat easier to deal with emotion, relief, it would be temporary, lasting only as long as it took for them to get somewhere out of the rain.

Inhaling a bit sharply when she clutched at his shirt, one hand smoothed down until it nestled in the curve of the small of her back, flicker of a clenched smile passing over his face at just how she really wasn't walking away from him.

Touch always did bring him much closer to someone, shaping a greater connection than what the sight he'd been left with amounted to. Matt had certainly thought it, but he wasn't sure if he'd said so aloud: that he needed her, however he could have her, in his life. Everything fell apart on him, at once really, it felt like. He never would have pushed her into re-accepting him as a friend, if that's what they were doing there with the pattering of rain all around and on top of them.

He shifted his arms in place around her, hands urging her closer in a tug to a tighter hug, words whispered. "I'm not gonna go anywhere, Karen."

He did have the habit of speaking phrases that could be construed as jokes in the strangest of circumstances, so he couldn't help but let a quirk of a smile out when she laughed. It was a pretty laugh, even in spite of the strain in any sound she made, pain of tears still radiating between them.

Hesitating for a moment, he nodded, shifting away just enough to create a tiny space between them, gaze cast much in the same way it generally was. Slightly toward her, mostly away. "I'd prefer something more private, if that's okay with you," came out his reply in a still soft voice, hoping his words conveyed how deeply he didn't want to intrude in the personal space of her apartment, of her life.

That that privacy came with the option of her openly yelling at him depending on how he might explain certain areas too, well, that wasn't lost on him. It wouldn't be the first time he'd been yelled at for keeping so much a secret, so he would risk it. For them, for her.

She didn't want to let go. There was that fear there that if she let go, he would be gone again. Maybe none of this would be real. It was a small thought, something in the back of her head, but she wanted to hold to this as long as she could.

When he left the office that night, she had wondered if she would ever see him again. Would this be like Frank, but so much worse, someone she cared about, and cared for, and suddenly they were gone from her life and she would have to learn to live without them.

Except this was that glimmer of hope that she wasn't going to have to. Especially with those words from Matt.

"Just making sure," she said, twisting her fingers a bit against the fabric. "Private works though. I think I can trust you," she said, again giving a small joke. Yet there was so much in those words, meaning it. She could trust him, and planned not to lose that.

"Though try and not break the door, okay? I can't afford to replace that. I'm being paid by the word," she added, though that wasn't true either but jokes were easier than emotions, right? "I have to let go, don't I?"

It wasn't like they could go anywhere unless she let him go.

Matt had lost too much recently to not try to grip back onto something, someone, who he didn't want to live without.

Karen could trust him, though the fact that he'd given her reasons to see him as being untrustworthy of late wasn't lost. So, he gave a little laugh, not letting the nagging thought of if she really did trust him into his reaction. It wasn't a lie, he knew that, not in the context she'd meant.

He chuckled lightly at her telling him not to break the door, lips pressing together a tiny bit when she mentioned her new job. Maybe it was all a new path they needed to be on, without Nelson and Murdock being present. There were other matters pressing on him, on them, so he wasn't going to let his sadness and regret over that weigh down on him at present.

"Yeah you gotta let go," he answered with a perk to his smile, bringing one hand down off her back and to reach to slide his fingers against hers, to try to weave their hands together to hold hers. "At least like this." A small nod down at how they were still standing; holding onto one another for dear life in the easy fall of rain.

He'd let her start to move away first, smoothly going along with her to step away, holding her hand as they went if she allowed, staying close to her, if she let him do that too.

Before they left the alley, he added, "I wasn't planning on necessarily using the front door either. I was thinking more -- higher." Why not go around leaping around on elevated surfaces, ladders and the like to get onto roofs, if you could. Her apartment must have access to the roof, and if not, well...then he'd casually break through the front door. Or a window. There were options!

She was so good at being a reporter. She had the drive, and she knew that Ben would be proud of her. That didn't change how much, some days, she wanted her life back where she wasn't actually being paid, but was definitely eating well.

And she was happy.

His fingers slotting against hers was good. Better than maybe it should have been. Part of her thought she should pull away, take more time, try and figure this all out without letting her emotions win out. Except her emotions, her heart, was all she wanted to listen to.

So her fingers curled against his, as she stepped away, chest aching at that moment and not wanting to do that. Not at all, yet she moved easily at his side. That felt right, familiar, and that alone made her eyes sting once more. She was glad for the rain to cover the slow, needy tears that traced her cheeks, unable to stop them from dampening her lashes.

"Right. Higher," she said, glancing at him. That hurt a bit, not that he wanted to, but that was still a reminder, trying to cope with that and what that meant to her life now, and could mean to them in the future.

"So what? I should stand here and wait for you?"

She wouldn't admit how much that scared her, that he would ascend to the roof and then how long would it be before she saw him again. Her fingers loosened on his though. "The roof access door is on the left.

What Matt wanted for Foggy or Karen, as far their jobs went, well that didn't really matter. He'd made his bed, and he needed to lie in it, and if she was happy being a reporter? He'd be happy for her. He'd also be watching closely to be sure that no one fucked around with trying to hurt her, because he knew just how deeper she might go into trouble to get the true details of a story. He wouldn't let her get hurt, if he could stop it.

He was glad for their hands staying held together, grounding them both. He could feel it, the brief hesitance and then submission to what physically felt nice. There was no great harm in holding hands, though he could feel how much it brought them together, and why that could feel somewhat dangerous to give into so quickly. Still, he had no plans on doing anything else, just wanted to hold her hand, to keep her close.

He wished that he could stop her crying, his own chest tight as he kept any other tears at bay, not thinking just yet how they wouldn't have the veil from the rain to hide them once they were inside. And inside, certainly, there would be more tears.

Saying openly how he planned to use the roof to get inside, it was but a comment to slip into speaking about the other side of his life. He didn't want to bring her any discomfort in knowing more about that reality, and he smiled in spite of thinking that he heard a hint of hurt in her tone.

"That'd be easier," he replied, definitely feeling her nerves and wishing he could erase those too. He'd nodded when she told him where the access door was. "I'll be fast, though, and I'll be able to hear down here, if anything happens. Just, go stand by the front door, and I'll be down in just a minute, okay?" He squeezed her hand, trying to be reassuring, tone confident as he gave a little smile. Then, he let go and looked over toward the door that lead her apartment building, waiting for her to settle beside it before he went.

Finding his way up via fire escape ladders, he found that the door atop the roof was actually already ajar, scoffing down at it and shutting the damned thing. Really, the security there. Seriously. Then, quick as could be, dashing right down the stairs, actually looking out of breath (on purpose, okay? what? sometimes he could be a dork too) by the time he got to door, he was smiling, actually grinning for a moment, opening it for Karen to step inside.

"See? No property damages at all." Another joke in the midst of pained hearts, but it was the truth?

Karen wanted what she couldn't have, an she knew it. She wanted life back as it had been. The three amigos together, close, sharing everything.

Except that had been a lie. She had been blind to the truth, Foggy and Matt were lying to her, and she wasn't sure what to make of all of that. Could she understand why? Yes. Did that make it okay? She wasn't sure if it did or not. That was part of this.

So she moved to the door, standing there in the drizzle, hands clasped before her and waiting. Trying not to count the second, or to think about what was going to happen once they got upstairs. She wanted to make accusations, and she wanted to demand answers, and she was terrified that if she did either, he would disappear. How much did she need to hold within to ensure she would see him again? That was what was going through her mind when the door opened.

Forcing a smile then, and a chuckle. "I appreciate that, since I'm pretty sure I'm on my last leg with the landlord," she said. It was a joke, certainly? Wouldn't that be the case? "Come on," she said, moving for the stairs, holding out her hand to him, trusting he would sense that and know, and not have to play. Or, perhaps, she was checking to see how much he could truly sense. "I have beer in the fridge."

Damn but she needed a drink.

Matt had listened as best he could, focus angled outside the front steps, while he made his way downstairs. Enough to determine that no one was messing with her, that she was safe, rather than to analyze what her emotions may be.

He let her go inside before shutting the door behind them both, letting the grin slide off his face once she spoke, but trying to keep a pleasant enough expression. The adrenaline from jumping up, then running down the stairs, left him with a bit of a high. Then, though, the reality of what they were headed into rolled back into his chest, and he breathed out in the second her back was to him.

"I'll be sure not to break your door, either," he added, referencing the actual door into her specific apartment unit, since he assumed that that door would be locked as well. That she didn't have any of her keys.

He reached to take her hand and walk along with her, already feeling the shift in air now that they were inside, out of the rain. He didn't work to hide the self-sufficiency he actually possessed, not wanting to hide that part of himself from her anymore. Maybe it would be gentler to slowly do so, but what was the point? He'd just leaped up to a roof in ways a man shouldn't be able to.

"That'd be nice," he said, feeling like his voice fell flat, even if it hadn't. Beer sure sounded great, but it didn't make anything any better at all. Not really.

Once at her door, he looked over to her for the go-ahead to get it open as needed, which he did, smoothly and with minimal shattering of any wood at its edges, sound from getting it open loud, all the same. Then, he stepped aside to let her go in first, since it was her apartment and all, nodding just a tiny bit, smiling weakly at her.

It wasn't easy. None of it was. Yet Karen felt better than she had hours earlier about her and her life, about Matt. She had been trying not to think about never seeing him again, about what would happen if he just disappeared from her life. He hadn't, and that left her shaking and yet caught between her emotions as if it was a storm buffering her from the inside.

She waited, watching as he opened the door. "Where were you when I wanted to key my ex's car," she teased, jokes making life easier. At least she thought, even if they were lame.

"I may tell the landlord someone tried to break in tonight," she noted. "Get him to fix it for me," she said, heading for the kitchen area. The wall still showed signs of the shooting that had tried to kill her, the wall covered with pieces of plywood. "Because you can see they've been so quick on repairing the other problems," she said, coming back with two bottles.

Her eyes were red, the rim of her nose red. She looked pale and was trying to smile.

"I really...I really did think I wouldn't ever see you again," she finally whispered. "I know I didn't handle you telling me well, but I was shocked and still so confused, and..." And it had been Christmas, and she spent it alone and it had all been so much.

Matt knew he was being given an opening into the chance of really letting Karen know more of who he was, of being truthful and honest. That opportunity alone left him feeling some relief, better about the situation, though he didn't expect that feeling to last once certain questions were asked, ideas expressed.

He'd laughed at her joke about the keying of an ex's car, always glad for humor. That was definitely something they shared, thinking that jokes made the path of life easier. Even the lamest ones. Hell, especially those kind.

Stepping inside after her, shutting the door and locking it, deadbolt and all, his eyes scanned over the room, taking in some of its details. He watched her go toward the fridge, unable to not let his senses reach out to see, feel, how she was feeling. About like he expected her too, but going through pain with her was part of owning the mistakes he'd made in how he'd handled the two very different parts of his life.

Taking a bottle, smiling gently, he thanked her and moved over to sit at one of the chairs at the dining table. The couch would've been more comfortable, but felt a little too much like being pushy. He didn't expect for a lot of smiles and kind words once she started asking questions again, if that was what she planned to do.

Brows furrowing a tiny bit, his head just barely shook at those quiet words. "It felt like what I needed to finally do." A beat, tongue licking just so over his bottom lip. "Be completely open, just lay it down like it is. I'm sorry, that it took you by such surprise." Another pause. "But, I never would have just...not come to see you, or reached out to you, Karen. I could never do that."

Maybe none of those words helped, but were explanatory and true and felt like ones that he should say in the moment.

It was awkward. There was no other word for it. The apartment was a mess, even if he couldn't entirely see it, she was teary eyed, and if she didn't hold tight enough to the bottle, she was afraid she was going to shake so hard to drop and break it.

So she settled in at the table, not across from him but beside, turning her chair to face him more fully, dragging it along the floor to do so. Letting him speak, considering her words as she twisted the bottle on the table, making circles with it just to try and have a focus and not panic.

"You walked away before, Matt," she said, her voice soft, fighitng to not make it accusatory but a statement of fact. Which was how she saw it. "You... you made choices, and I don't ... I can't see how they were ever supposed to be better for me. I get maybe it was easier for you that I didn't know. Then you didn't have to worry about me worrying like Foggy was, and he did, and how much he panicked with all the things with Castle and Daredevil," she said, speaking it out, trying to let him know how she felt without attacking.

"But it did nothing to help me, Matt. I thought you were an alcoholic. I thought you chose that over Foggy and me. I thought..." She stopped, voice cracking. I statements. That how they said to do it, right? NOt accusing but sharing.

Matt's chin tilted forward slightly when Karen moved the chair, sound of its feet scraping along the floor, bottom of his bottle resting on the table, fingers loosely around its body.

"You're right, I have -- " a beat and very soft exhale, "walked away," he answered back, affirming her words as a way to take responsibility for them, to help her see that he wasn't denying it. Letting go off the bottle then, he rested one elbow on the table's surface and leaned a little closer to her. "I didn't handle my other responsibilities in a way that I should have...I can see that. Now. A lot was going on, blinded me to what all I was really...doing." He spoke slow, quietly, having thought of how he could say all of this to her, so was able to at least speak them without falling totally apart.

It cut as this heart that she thought he was ever an alcoholic, but he wasn't going to focus on that. She was just explaining what she thought. Had thought. He could prove to her who he really was, reaffirm that he was the good guy she used to think he was. Or, hopefully still did, but was hurt by. It only took one huge mistake or lie to really break someone's trust.

Her voice cracking didn't mean it was time to make a joke, not at all, and yet, he'd paused after his words of explanation, nudging the bottle farther away from him with his elbow as he brought his arm down so it rested on the table, parallel with the edge.

"But I'd really like to give the 'Worst Friend of the Year' award back to someone else anytime, really, so." It wasn't funny, at all, and yet...he smiled a tiny bit. "Can I prove it to you, how I really feel? What I wished I had done for both of you?"

Karen didn't have Matt's senses, and she didn't have the strengths that he did. The reason though that she was so good at the new job she had taken though was that she was observant. Not enough to put together Matt was Daredevil, but she caught what he was doing with the bottle. And why.

Setting her own down, she took his hand, brought the bottle over and put his hand on the bottle. "Matt, I thought you were. Foggy let me believe that to explain why you were missing appointments and why you were always bruised and beat up," she said. "I don't think you are now, and I get why the lie worked," she said. "But you don't have to pretend now, and you don't have to deny a beer. Besides coffee, what else do we drink together?"

The three of them, always. It was a thing. They might not always have money for food, but they had a tab. Had.

"How is that then, Matt? How do you feel? What do you wish you had done?"

She couldn't say it would be okay. Not until she knew what he had to say. What he intended to do now.

Well shit, that explained that. Hell, it was a damn good lie, though the blunt reality of just how he'd made his own best friend lie for him made Matt work his jaw a little, glancing over to the bottle while Karen continued to speak.

Then, as she finished, mentioned the bare minimums of what all they could drink together, he let his fingers slid away from hers and back onto the bottle, sliding it back over to in front of where he sat again. "Good point, about what else besides coffee," he said lamely, both grateful and pained at hearing the true and full explanation as to why she'd ever thought he was an alcoholic.

Plus, why the hell would she have given him a beer if that was what she'd still thought? God, he needed to clear his head and focus on his friends again for once, actually and truly.

He looked down into his lap for a moment after she asked, pressing his lips together before he gave a quick exhale. You could never truly rehearse an explanation for what he needed to say, so didn't rely on any time he'd tried to do that at home. This, telling her, needed to be completely organic.

"Told you the truth. Sooner. About being the Devil of Hell's Kitchen." Lips twitching, jaw tight for a second, he knew it sounded so obvious and lame, yet it was the truth. "It would've prevented you from getting hurt, running into what you have, because of me, and...I don't know how all it makes you feel," to know that he was Daredevil, which was partly a lie since he could sense her physical reactions to it and assess accordingly, but he meant it on a much deeper level than just that. Thankfully, he wasn't additionally an actual mind-reader. "but I should've given you the chance to know more. If you wanted to."

A hard swallow and pause as he took a long drink of his beer, grateful to have it. As he lowered it, he shook his head just slightly. "When Foggy found out, it wasn't on purpose," which, hey, he still felt like shit about, okay?, "and, I think it made me block up that part of myself that thought it could be okay to try explaining it someone else, but I was wrong. It was a mistake, and...it really is, all on me. I wish I'd given you the chance to know earlier, Karen."

Karen's fingers toyed with her bottle, wanting to down it and afraid to take a drink just for that reason. "I'm sorry I believed it," she said, meaning it. "I shouldn't have... I mean, I know you and I shouldn't have believed that about you."

Except it made sense. It answered the questions that needed answering and made more sense than a blind man, and her sweet, tender, caring boss, being the Devil of Hell's Kitchen.

Now though her mind was putting everything together, making better sense of it all, and leaving her with a million questions, not all of which she could get answers for.

Shifting as she crossed her legs, bending forward slightly, not withdrawing from Matt as she might have in the last few weeks.

"Okay, to begin with. What I have run into because of you? Is because of me being here with you and Foggy," she said, meaning it. "Don't you dare. All we've been through, Fisk and Castle and everything in between and beyond, that was my choice to be part of since the moment you and Foggy came into that room at the precinct," she said, not willing to have him make it sound like he had dragged her along. In truth, she had dragged him and Foggy into things with Fisk, and she had gotten Ben killed, and could have gotten them killed to. She wasn't letting Matt's Catholic guilt turn this into her being entirely the innocent party in this.

"And leaving us? What was that about? Why were those other people more important than Foggy and I?" Us versus them. She couldn't help it. He had turned his back and left them for all intents and purposes. "We needed you too, Matt. Foggy needed you in that courtroom. I've..." She stopped, closing her eyes and curling her hands in together, white knuckled. "I don't want to lose you, Matt. I need you. I need you both. I can't be kept out though. I can't be expected to pretend and hide and act like... like the girl you met. I'm not her anymore, Matt. None of us are."

Sensing her hesitance, the slip of her fingers over the glass of the bottle, Matt imagined what could be on her mind before Karen spoke, gaze falling down as his lips twitched in nearly a smile. "You don't have anything to be sorry for, Karen," she really didn't, at all, "it made sense, and even if it wasn't reality, I'm glad you at least had a reason, at the time, for why I was being an ass."

Which he really had been, even if his intentions to the cause of fighting crime in the city had been pure. They weren't, though he'd felt like they had been.

He edged in a little closer to her, not thinking about it, only happy to have her approaching him rather than the opposite.

His face stayed turned to her when she began explaining, already hearing the wealth of comments she intended to include in her sentences. That was good, honestly. He needed to hear them; she needed to speak them.

His jaw did go tight when she told him not to cut her out of what was essentially blame for the situations she'd gotten into too. He didn't like what she was saying, but he couldn't deny it. It was simple, easier, for him to shoulder blame and work his ideas around that. Still. She knew what he was thinking, even if he didn't realize it. He was fine, blaming himself, and apparently, she wasn't going to let that fly.

Even he could be grateful for that, with his eyes that wanted to press further on that so much more could have been prevented, if only. If. He wasn't going to get hung up on the word, nodding lightly after she finished those thoughts.

Then, she was asking for more clarification. He was happy to give that to her too. She deserved to know the big whys.

With his free hand, he waved out into the air a little, though his arm was low and near his body anyway, the gesture small. "Not all of it would've happened the same way if I'd let you both in sooner." Okay, one tiny 'if' statement. He'd needed to say it at least, since that was largely what he'd meant.

As for her questions, his lips pressed together before he continued, taking another drink before went on. "I know, I know he did, you did, Castle did." He wasn't so sure what all would have been different if he'd been there during the court proceedings, but still, "I should have been there. I know that."

With a hard press of his teeth together, he honed in on those last words she'd spoken, rewinding to them enough to really see how her hands were so tight together. If some key events in the past several months had gone differently, then he could've reached out for her hand, but instead, he touched fingers against her shoulder for a few seconds. "I don't think any of us are the same either, Karen, but we're still us. And I never want you to hide, or to pretend to be anyone, anything, never." A weak, lopsided little smile before his expression turned serious again.

"Those people?" The ones whose names she likely didn't know, probably didn't care to know, Stick and Elektra. He was glad she couldn't hear his heart, guilty for even thinking so in that moment, because it skipped a beat when his chest tightened at the thought of the woman who had decided to be good in the very end. She hadn't deserved to die. "They're not more important. I was tied up in business. With her, stuff I couldn't talk to you about at the time because I'd made the choice not to tell you about everything yet, and then that business exploded into," a heavy breath, a shake of his head, "what could've been a literal hell in our part of the city, and I needed to do what I could to stop it. But, Karen -- I wanted to do both, tried to, I mean it I really," a pause, more tightness in his chest as he blew air out, "I thought I could do both." Obviously, he'd been wrong. "I'd never meant to not be there for Foggy, for you, the case."

"A dumb reason," she said, sighing. "And I should have had more faith in you. Or done more to help you, but I was hurt, and upset." She hadn't tried to get him help for his alcohol problem. She had ignored it and been snarky and hurt. "I did nothing for you."

And that was a realization that hurt. Even if it hadn't been true, she hadn't done anything for him. What did that say about her in all of it as well.

Yet she was letting it all out, good and bad, and so much bad, but she wasn't going to stop herself. She had been holding things back, and she needed to put it all out on the table. From both sides, and pray they could come out on the other side at least as friends.

She knew Matt would take all the blame. He was Catholic born and raised. He was a man that had put the brunt of the damage in his world on his shoulders for a long time. She was not going to be any part of that though. Not for all of their sake. It might not be easy, but she needed that.

Yet she considered that, head canting, peering at him a moment. "I will let you have that," she said. "Though, you can't know for sure, except..." She paused. Could she say this? "Maybe we wouldn't have all lost one another if you had. But we can't know that either, Matt. We just can't."

Which was when she shook her head, making a sound of protest for his sake. "Matt, you owe those words to Foggy. He was the one that was let down, he was the one that was amazing and strong, and everything I knew he could be, but he didn't want to. He had to." She would fight for Foggy will before herself. Always.

She let him talk though, quiet and listening. Watching him for a long time without a word.

"I won't stand for it again," she said at length, her voice so soft even as she put her foot down. "I can't. I can't..." Her voice cracked and she closed her eyes, holding her breath to try and pull herself back together. "We're not still us, Matt. We're not an us, and I hate that. I hate that it feels like I've lost you both. And you're not the only one who thinks they should just ... leave, pretend, not be there because of what they could cause to others. You're not the only one, Matt. If any of Castle's unit is still alive, they might know my face. I was a huge part of that trial and seen with him if anyone from the gangs come from him and..."

And then she couldn't. She couldn't do this. She had to though.

"I know who killed James Wesley, and one day Fisk is going to figure that out as well," she said in a rush, not saying it directly, not sure if she could.

"You didn't..." he sighed, knowing immediately that it wasn't right to tell her that she didn't need to do anything for him. Matt didn't think she did; and yet, how long was the solo act of dealing with every area of his life going to work? It hadn't panned out all that well at all, as evidenced. With a weak smile, he shook his head. "I do want to let you in. I've just not really ever done that before, with anyone, and I know I need to let you, people close to me," her and Foggy, since he had no one else, "say stuff like that without me interjecting."

Words, words, so many of them, all to get one basic idea out: that he acknowledged and would accept that she felt guilt over not having done more for him. He hadn't exactly relied on anyone else before though, so bear with him, Karen.

Inwardly, he may never fully let her shoulder any of the blame, but he'd listen, really listen, to what she said and not dismiss her. Being dismissive wouldn't work, not if they were going to be friends. Especially ones who didn't keep huge secrets. He couldn't completely alter the way that his heart processed guilt, blame, but he could try. For her, himself, for happiness.

Peering over, lips parted slightly, he shut them as he nodded with how they couldn't know what could have been given several what ifs. "I never like living in the figurative, so yeah. We can't know."

His hand tightened around his beer again, staring down at the table as Karen brought up how he should tell Foggy these words. Once she finished that statement, he pressed his lips together, shoulders a little rigid. "I'll try, but I don't know how far I'm gonna get with him anymore." He knew it sounded defeatist. He knew that it would make her sad, but it was his reality. He didn't even know how to approach big stuff with his best friend any longer, if he could call Foggy his best friend still. "I want too, though. To be able to tell him."

His hand dropped down from the bottle when her voice cracked, his focus hyper-sensitively on her, fingers bending, tips of them sliding in place back and forth along the table's top. Listening, to all that she said, he knew she had more to say at the tail end of her words. Jaw dropped, the movements of his hand stilled immediately when she said that.

"Who?" A single whispered word. There were several ways she could know this information, some including her recent job switch, yet he wasn't going to guess on the reasoning. He wanted to hear her answer, no guessing, no analysis. Just the truth.

He couldn't reply to what else she said, not after that bomb of a statement. He had feelings on the other words, of course. He hated that they weren't their usual selves too. Sometimes he wondered if he even truly knew who he actually was anymore, yet he felt grounded speaking with Karen, talking things out with her. He felt significantly less so now that Wesley, Fisk, had been brought up, but that was to be expected.

He stared at her before reaching over, aim to take one of her hands in his, hearing the rush and anxiety in her voice.

"I did just walk out, Matt, and not give you a chance. I did believe Foggy and didn't come over here and give you what for." Both of which she should have done. He had been good enough to her, important enough to her, that she should have done both. Or either. "You're always going to blame yourself, Matt. I know that. Trust me," she said, giving hima pointed look. "I know that. Doesn't mean I'm going to let you shoulder the blame on your own. So interject, Matt. You're still going to hear what I have to say."

She'd walked away once, and he'd come for her. She wasn't going to do it again, and she wasn't going to be driven away. If that was how it was going to end, he wouldn't be sitting there now, and they both wouldn't be drenched from clinging to one another in the rain.

"Matt, it's Foggy. He's your best friend. He loves you. He's working for one of the biggest firms in the city and if I know him even a tiny bit, with enough talking he'll be back to working for enchiladas. Literally," she said, smiling wanly at him. "If you want, I can stage an intervention for you both. Lure him in so you can talk. I can honeypot this,' she teased, trying to make him smile, to make light of what was going to become a very bad situation.

Her fingers curled around his instantly, as much needing that anchor as fearing he might try and leave. All he had done to avoid killing people as Daredevil and she had to tell him the truth. If they were revealing secrets, they all had to come out.

"He grabbed me, and told me I had to tell everyone that I was wrong, that Fisk did nothing, that everything was okay. I told him he could shoot me then and there," she admitted, glancing sidelong at Matt, hating the thought of what his reaction might be. "Instead he talked about killing you, Foggy, Ben, everyone I love and care for. He laid the gun down on the table between his. Then his phone rang."

She paused there, knowing that Matt could figure it out from there. Yet she had to be honest.

"He said I wouldn't do it. In that he was wrong," she said, lifting her gaze, staring directly at Matt. "I was okay with dying," she said, panting softly, trying not to cry. "But I wasn't letting him kill everyone I loved. I couldn't let him do that, and I knew he would."

They both knew exactly how events transpired, such was fact. What they garnered from them, how they felt about each individual element of recent times, wasn't quite the same. Karen likely knew that just as well as Matt did. Jaw working forward a tiny bit, lips closed, he breathed out through his nose in a nearly silent sigh. One she could likely still hear given how little sound there was other than their own voices, the occasional scrape or bump of chairs, bottles, moving about. It wasn't of annoyance, but of resignation. He wouldn't fight her on it, on that notion of her taking some of the blame. It didn't change his mind, all the same, but she had every right and as much a need to speak her mind as he did.

He didn't need her to shoulder any of the blame to have felt a sincere need to go to her. He'd done that all with the way his heart currently felt, still weighed down with the mistakes he'd made. Honestly, he wasn't sure if it could lighten, but he wanted to be in her life, and part of him was hopeful that the guilt could fade with time merely from her presence. Not from her taking any of the blame, but just her being in his life once more. Fully, rather than them both being on the sidelines of one another's business and time.

Then she kept wanting to talk about Foggy. Hell, he shouldn't be surprised. She had a huge heart. Hearing the edge to her smile, he almost smiled back at the literal wage of enchiladas Foggy may end up taking. "Yeah," he said simply, not at all convinced that it could work. "He...probably needs time. Away from me. I haven't exactly been...the best best friend." A beat, another sigh. "I'm not wanting to change how I feel about him, Karen. But, I just don't know if he'd want to do that right now. An intervention." All very defeatist, yes, but he honestly wondered if Foggy shouldn't continue to be off, flying free and soaring in life, without the weight of being the best friend of Daredevil.

He smiled down at their hands when she took hold of his, listening, gears working in his mind as she explained. The pieces clicked together quicker than she may have assumed they would. At first, he didn't want to believe it, lips parted as he started over at her. Hand staying tight with hers, he was glad when the hold didn't falter, sensing the increase of tension, of actual salt in the air with perspiration and tears that threatened to spill from her eyes.

A couple of seconds passed, yet his reply was quick. "You could have told me," he said simply, quietly, not wanting to hurt her, but desperately wishing to have her know exactly what was in his heart. Leaning in closer to her, holding even tighter onto her hand, he added, "You...Karen. You know I would never fault you for self-defense, don't you?" The words could have sounded selfish, his brain bouncing to his perception of her struggle. Yet, it was a reality that she'd waited to tell him, and he was confident that he knew why. Because Daredevil wouldn't kill, and he and Karen had had conversations about this. Killing. Whether or not it should be done out of necessity at times or not. Like the way that Castle killed.

Chair scraping along the floor, he edged in even closer to her, knee bumping against and settling there by her leg. "I'm so sorry, Karen. That you went through that. I --" no, then wasn't the time to state how much he wished he had been there to protect her. "You're...so strong." Which, yes, honestly took him by surprise. Not that she was mentally, physically, strong, but that she possessed the power of will to have done what she did, to be recounting those details there. To a man she knew was so against murder. Except, it wasn't that. Self-defense was, always would be, different.

They could fight forever over the blame in this. In the end, Karen believed, they had all made mistakes and they all risked losing one another. Now though they had a chance to save one another, to save what they had and what they had for themselves. All of them. This, in her mind, was them starting to get back what the Punisher case had taken from them. One another.

But she could keep her mouth closed about the possibility of guilt on her part. Because it only made Matt want to further pull the guilt onto his own shoulders. Maybe if they let it go, for the time, then he might not think about his guilt and what he had done. Well, what he thought he had done.

She sighed softly at that comment about giving Foggy time, and she wasn't sure she agreed. She wasn't sure Foggy wanted the time, but maybe she would have to go see him and see what she might be able to find out from him, see what it was he might want in his life. If he wanted them back in his life.

But instead there was so much more they needed to talk about, and that confession, so far, wasn't lifting the weight in her chest and on her heart.

"Matt, I couldn't," she said, hating to say that to him, and knowing it might hurt him to hear that. "You are Matt Murdock, and you talked about the killings and how Daredevil didn't and..." And how could she tell him, not knowing he was Daredevil or not, that she had killed Fisk's dearest minion?

"No, you wouldn't fault me but... I thought you might want me to turn myself in," she admitted in a small, low voice. "And I don't know if I could have told you know." And now, she knew, he might still suggest she do just that. "I can't though, Matt. You have to know that. Fisk would know who did it then, and once he knows..."

She let the words hang there. She faced her death every night when she laid down to sleep, praying she wouldn't have nightmares of being hunted down and killed.

When he moved closer, she reached out to take his hand, holding one of his tight between both of hers. "Matt, I don't regret what I did. I had to. For you and Foggy and and everyone he was going to kill. But I got Ben killed. He went with me to see Fisk's mom and I know that's why he died," she whispered, biting back tears once more. "And I regret that every day, but I can't turn myself in. You have to know that."

When you processed guilt like Matt did, rationality didn't fully enter the picture. Karen knew just what trying to dwell on them equally taking blame where it was only fair would amount to, and who knew how Matt might grow over the next stage of his life. Where his mind was then? He didn't, wouldn't, believe that she should blamed for much at all, and he'd never be forced into claiming so, not with his current mindset.

He was stubborn as hell, taking after his old man in that area. Of course he wanted Foggy back in his life, yet he didn't think he deserved that, not unless his oldest friend wanted to be back in the same way as before. Maybe they could never go back, and only time would tell. Admitting defeat there, when it came to Foggy, hurt; yet, both lawyers had said that it was time to close up their shop together, and that they'd see one another around. Maybe, probably. Who knew. It was depressing, but reality often was.

"You never should have had to go through that alone," he offered up at first, peering down for a second when he felt her hands go tight around his.

Swallowing, keeping the sound from being as hard as it otherwise would've been, he took in all that she said, trying to keep his expression as even as possible. It wasn't easy, especially since it was Karen saying all of what fell from her lips.

Talk about having a bit of double standard for one of his best friends, for the woman he'd honestly wanted to take a path of deeper affections toward. He may not go around saying it, but he'd loved her as a friend for so long, and he'd wanted more. He knew, right away, how biased he'd be. Even so, there were facts about the whole of the circumstance. Ones that allowed for biases.

Swallowing again when she brought up Ben, when he smelled and heard those tears at her eyes, Matt scooted his chair in as close to hers as he could get, knowing how potentially obtrusive the closeness was, but needing to be there as any semblance of a rock for her, if he could be.

"Karen," he started, "I don't want you turning yourself in, not for anything like this. Fisk's a...if there were a category of people that don't deserve being around to cause chaos, he'd fit in that group, and so did Wesley. You didn't get anyone killed, Karen," which the hyprocrisy of the statement wouldn't be unknown to him if he thought of it for even a few moments. Matt was, indeed, the sort of person to take full responsibility for the death of another, even if it hadn't been his fault.

"He," Ben, "knew," a swallow, "what the risks were in his field. I know he did. Every good journalist does, when they're going around like he did."

After a few seconds of silence, his focus drawn entirely on her, he managed to ask, "Why would you think I want you to turn yourself in? What good could that even do?" What a loaded question. Asking it risked her being deeply upset, and he should have known better, should've pondered why she thought that. If he had, he could've come up with reasons, yet he was clinging to getting an answer directly from her.

After just a beat, and a roaring epiphany of what she'd just recently mentioned, lips parting and jaw holding open for a moment, he asked with a troubled expression, "It's not because of what I've said, about how there's always a way that doesn't include killing? That doesn't apply to this, Karen. You didn't have a choice, and I know that if you had, you would've taken it." His tone rose with heat, his words utterly firm.

Bringing his other hand up to hold over hers folded against his, he squeezed them, leaning in closer to her and adding, "If there were no other way to protect you, Foggy, anyone else I've loved before...Karen..." he shook his head, needing to admit to this to her, even if it seemed to defy all he ever stood for, "I wouldn't let anyone hurt or kill either of you, anyone I hold dear. Push came to shove, if I could have been in those exact shoes you were in, I would've done the same." Meaning that if he weren't capable of having injured Wesley and getting him into police custody, etc, and she hoped she knew that was what he meant. She knew what Daredevil was capable of, after all.

As for Wesley being allowed to live even after making threats against them all? Well, yeah, he would've let him, if it had been possible. He wasn't coming out and saying that, nor was he lying to Karen in anything he said.

The whole of the situation was so entirely different since it happened to Karen, and she must know that.

"I'll always be on your side," he added simply, meaning it completely. "I promise."

Rain Meme

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