Frank Castle was not made by God. (punishes) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2016-03-25 17:49:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, frank castle (the punisher), matt murdock (daredevil) |
Who: Matt Murdock daredevil and Frank Castle punishes
What: A chance meeting.
When: Recently.
Where: Fancy Coffee Shop
Rating/Warnings: Low / Frank hassles a guy / Nothing out of the ordinary.
Status: Complete when posted.
Blindness was considered a disability.
Matt Murdock thought 'stupidity' should be considered a disability. He'd been waiting in the line to order his espresso for over twenty minutes as customer after customer complained, customized, and criticized the baristas at the coffee bar. There had yet to be a reasonable argument placed ahead of him; the current disagreement over whether a latte had 'too much milk' was making his head pound.
The desire to turn around, head back to the door, leave, was strong, but Matt knew his chances of getting out of the line unscathed were little to none. It was much easier to walk a straight path which was familiar than try to navigate a winding road he'd never traveled before. He could feel the heat of the person behind him vanish as they did exactly what he wanted to do -turn around and leave- but then another person stepped up to fill the void, reminding him he was hardly alone in his wait.
"If I offer to pay for their drink, do you think they'll give up already?"
He was more musing aloud than talking to the man behind him. Matt didn't have his cane extended, but his dark glasses and the collapsed stick clearly indicated to others his vision was impaired. It could go either way with his new waiting line partner. The man might choose to ignore him out of either a lack of desire to talk to a stranger or out of discomfort at speaking with a disabled man. He might also choose to respond.
Matt never failed to be entertained by which option strangers chose.
~*~
Frank was, more or less, not the kind of guy to go out and buy coffee. Today was the exception. His coffee maker was busted and, while he planned on getting a new one, he still needed his daily regimen to get him through the day. Especially if he had to deal with sales associates. At least Frank had the sort of look about him that made people avoid him. It was a small blessing.
Here he was, though, walking into a coffee shop and he huffed under his breath as he got into line. It was obvious that the other patrons had been waiting. Their body language, their ever growing frowns, the under the breath muttering. Great, he thought. He figured he’d give it three minutes tops before either leaving or giving the guy at the front a lesson in manners from Frank Castle - but then the man in front of him was speaking.
Frank waited a moment. While there was no one else around, Frank had to assume the words were, in all likelihood, directed at him. He snorted. “Not fucking likely,” was the gruff reply. “Probably just set him off more.”
~*~
"I could also tell him -speaking from a legal standpoint as a lawyer with a track record untarnished by any losses- what he's currently doing is considered assault under the definition of the law. I'm willing to do the case pro bono if the barista wants to press charges. I could use the tax break and my headache will never go away until he shuts up."
Matt knew most people had a problem with lawyers. It was a given lawyers weren't respected so much as reviled by the general public. His own particular brand of law was even less appealing to people given he worked solidly for corporations to assist in mergers and acquisitions of foreign assets. International Law had spoken to Matt more than any other field. Some wanted to get involved in saving the planet, protecting human rights, doing their part to put criminals behind bars---Matt had wanted to stick to the definition of the law.
He worked best when he was dealing with definitive answers: yes or no. Black or white worked best for Matt because he tended to get a little too involved if he resorted to working within the gray areas of the world.
"I really wouldn't come here except the other coffee shop near enough to me to be convenient has the habit of hiring bleeding heart co-eds. They all seem to think I need them to speak more clearly, louder, and in smaller words. This makes me think I can handle being treated as if I'm mentally impaired better than I can manage being late. It's really a question of which is the lesser of the two evils."
~*~
Frank snorted. He wasn’t sure how, exactly, he ended up getting into a conversation with this guy, but it was happening. And while Frank was never a man of many words, he wasn’t an asshole - wasn’t much of one, anyway - and he didn’t have a whole lot better to do anyway.
“Right. Because obviously if you’re blind, then you can’t understand fucking English.” Honestly, what was wrong with people? Frank supposed that if the concern and sympathy came from a genuine place, it could be, in moderation, not terrible. But a lot of people were just being sympathetic because it made them look good. Gross.
Speaking of gross. Mr Latte’s voice was starting to grate on Frank’s nerves, and the young woman behind the til - who couldn’t have been a lot older than seventeen or eighteen - was starting to look like she was ready for a breakdown. Asshole, Frank thought. As people began to leave the line or stand there stupefied, he stepped out from his own place. Four quick strides was all it took to get Frank to the front of the line. One hand on the man’s shoulder, accompanied by raised eyebrows and the words “drink the fucking latte before I pour it down your throat myself” was all it took to get him to shut up.
Frank was sure that what he did was considered assault under the definition of the law. He didn’t really care. When he stepped back into his spot in line he shoved his hands in his pockets with a grunt.
“Can’t wait to replace my coffee maker,” he muttered.
~*~
No one seemed to know how to respond to the man's actions, but it did get rid of the bully holding things up. Matt couldn't help smiling. Sometimes it was good to be able to plead blindness as a reason why he couldn't assist with pressing charges in a criminal case. They had no reason to approach him anyway given the fact the line was moving without anyone speaking up for the rude customer.
"I take it you're more of the 'coffee, black' order than anything else?"
Matt didn't need the man to answer to know he was right. It was a fairly straightforward conclusion given the gruff demeanor of his fellow patron.
"Matt Murdock," he offered along with his hand as most people seemed comfortable with a handshake even one with a blind man.
He had mastered the art of shaking hands. Wait for the other person to take his hand, grip in equal measure to what they offered, release as soon as they began to release, let his hand fall to his side again. It was simple enough. Matt didn't flail around looking for the other person's hand. It wasn't as if he'd suddenly been struck blind after all; he'd been born that way. Matt appreciated people who didn't make a big thing about gripping his forearm like they were afraid he'd fall over if they didn't steady him.
Something told him this man? He wasn't the type to steady anyone else. He was the type to expect them to stand on their own two feet.
~*~
“Something like that.”
Frank ignored the looks from people. Somewhere someone was probably going to put it on the internet. What he did notice was the sudden offer of official introduction - a name, accompanied by a handshake. Apparently when one ventured out into the world, socializing was a thing that happened. Frank hadn’t had to introduce himself to anyone in a long while.
He took the offered hand. The shake was firm and brief. Done more out of politeness than any desire to be cordial, and he acknowledged Matt’s name by replying, “Frank. Castle.”
The line shuffled forward. Now that the troublemaker had been sent packing, everyone seemed eager to keep things running smoothly. “You’re next.”
~*~
"Has anyone ever told you, you've got a knack for making innocuous statements sound like threats, Frank?"
Matt smiled in the direction of the barista while he repeated his order to her as if he hadn't delivered the same way every time he came in for years. He was a creature of habit out of necessity rather than preference. The woman didn't care who he was though. It was likely she worked at the coffee shop because the job was convenient or all she could get, not because it was her life's dream.
He moved to the side to wait on his coffee to be delivered while giving Frank the space to move up to place his own order.
Positioning his hand on the counter with his fingers and thumb in the shape of an L, Matt waiting patiently for them to put the cup into his grip. It was a small courtesy, but it went a long way for him. There was nothing worse than having to explain a coffee burn to a colleague who already thought one feeble-minded due to the loss of one sense.
~*~
“Who says they aren’t?”
There may have been a bit of a smile on Frank’s face. Maybe Matt could hear that. Frank was no expert on blindness but he’d heard somewhere that you could tell when someone was smiling by their voice. Maybe it was a load of bullshit.
When he ordered his drink, black coffee, no frills, the barista tried to give it to him for free. The fight probably wasn’t worth it so he dropped his handful of money into the tip jar. He sipped at it, glancing at Matt. There was something about him that Frank couldn’t figure out, but he liked it. Or he didn’t dislike it.
“Have a good one.” A pause. “Not a threat.”
~*~
Emotions leaked out of people in more ways than mere visual cues. Matt had learned how to interpret quite a lot from the four senses he had at his disposal. There was a tone which indicated positivity. Matt tried to imagine it as the 'smiling voice'---he knew what a smile felt like even if he had never seen one. Frank sounded as if he were smiling. It was a nice sound coming from his gruff tones.
Something told Matt there weren't a lot of positive moments in Frank Castle's life.
He was glad to have been one, even if for a moment.
The barista slid the warm cup into Matt's hand and he nodded at her in thanks, turning to tap with his cane to see who had left their chair out as much as how far this time. He knew better than to expect a public coffee shop to keep things in order for him. Matt wasn't ashamed to use the cane. It wasn't an embarrassment to him. Sometimes it was a drastic inconvenience since the weather did affect how useful the cane could be to him. That couldn't be helped though, could it? It wasn't as if Matt had any choice about the matter. It was the cane or a dog and he'd never been the type to want a dog.
"Thank you, Frank. I'll try to do just that if you'll try to do the same."
Matt was comfortable following Frank out to the door where they would likely part ways, two ships passing on the same waters.
"Next time you're inconvenienced enough to get trapped in the line with me? You can at least have someone you know to pass the time with---the bright side. They tell me it's where we should all be looking always."
He didn't know about that but he did know he made it out the door without spilling his coffee or hitting anyone with his cane.
Matt considered his venture out for caffeine a success even if it was a moderate one.
~*~
“Guess we’ll see.”
Since Matt was following him, Frank held the door, standing aside until the other man went through. Now that he had a coffee in his hand he felt moderately better about things anyway. Routine was important. One small blip in a routine - a blip like, say, not having a morning cup of coffee because of a shitty coffee pot - could throw off an entire day. Balance was on the way to being moderately restored, and he got to work off a bit of aggression with some jackass. So that was bonus points, wasn’t it?
He regarded Matt one last time as they were about to part ways. Was this a coincidence? A happenstance, a chance encounter that would never be repeated again? Orange County was big. There were countless people all around them. But maybe they’d run into each other. Maybe, Frank thought, in some weird way he’d just made a legitimate friend, and it would be actually be the first one since moving to California. There. That was looking on the bright side.
“They may be full of shit. But I guess it’s worth trying. See you around, Matt.”
Frank sipped his coffee and took his leave, moving before Matt could move. There was nothing worse than saying goodbye only to find out you were going the same way. Besides, they both had places to be (he assumed Matt had places to be, he had that look about him). Best not to loiter.