[for Eduardo] The Devil Comes to Town

[hasnobullets]

From my sodden jacket, I retrieve my billy club. Running my fingers along the familiar aluminum, I briefly fumble with the mechanism that converts a weapon into a blind man's cane -- something harmless. The motions are instinctive, though, and I find the switch quickly enough. I've spent most of the last year denying my life as Daredevil to anyone

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[pointzerothree]

Between the sunglasses and the cane, the situation isn't too difficult to read. That doesn't stop Eduardo from pausing for just a moment, eyes going wide, before he approaches. He may have been heading in the opposite direction, but that doesn't matter; he can't just walk away without asking if the guy needs help. Given the state of his jacket, still drenched despite the customary heat, he almost has to wonder if he showed up this way, but that's not a conclusion he can just jump to.

"Hey, man," he says from a few feet off, not wanting to startle. "You alright?"

[hasnobullets]

I hear his approach before he says a word, but only just, the sound of his footsteps nearly masked by my own. Five minutes ago, I could've heard him breathing from a mile away. Combined with the change of environment, and it's not even a lie when I shake my head, brows furrowing even as I try to get a better read on my genuinely unexpected company.

Without my heightened senses, it's simpler said than done. Judging by the sound of his voice, we're about the same height, though his accent gives me pause. (American. But there's a hint of something-- Spanish? Portuguese?) If nothing else, he seems too friendly for a would-be kidnapper, but he could just be playing it safe if he suspects who I am. Used to be it would've made a difference if someone had grabbed me as Matt Murdock or Daredevil, but these days...

This would be easier if I could just hear his heartbeat. Search for any irregularities. But my life hasn't been described as easy for a good long while

[pointzerothree]

So he is new, then. Eduardo takes a deep breath, nodding to himself, before he steps closer. He's done this before, the night Olive arrived on the beach still one he remembers with startling clarity, but never with someone who couldn't see where they were. At least, he thinks, the weather is pretty distinctly tropical, nothing like the rain the soaked jacket suggests. It's a moment before he speaks, but only out of necessity, trying to figure out where best to start without the obvious visual aid.

"I'm guessing you mean you were somewhere else a minute ago, not that you took a wrong turn somewhere, right?" he asks, brows furrowing. Best to be sure, at least, with something like this; he doesn't need to go around offering an explanation on the off chance that he's been given one already.

[hasnobullets]

I wonder if I haven't been drugged. Wouldn't be the first time. Not to mention it'd explain a few things. Maybe my elevated heart rate isn't a symptom of barely suppressed panic. The heat could be a fever. My new friend a hallucination. For all I know, the feds caught up with me after my so-called ninja stunt, and now I'm in the back of the van, talking gibberish to myself. There's a thought. But on the off-chance this is all actually happening, even if I haven't the slightest idea how, I shake my head.

That he thinks to ask if I was somewhere else implies he might have some idea of what's going on. That he hasn't tried to hit me yet implies he might share that information willingly.

"Wrong turn? I was in New York," I say, a touch incredulous. "Hell's Kitchen. Which, despite the name, isn't actually known for this kind of weather. That's quite the wrong turn."