Alvin knew exactly who Matt Murdock was.
The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.
Every night, he pulled on a red-and-black suit and prowled the rooftops, hunting criminals and protecting anyone he could reach before it was too late.
In the comics, Daredevil was almost mythical.
Brilliant.
Fearless.
Seemingly unstoppable.
Reality was far less glamorous.
The man sitting across from Alvin wasn’t an invincible superhero.
He was an exhausted idealist held together by bruises, scars, and sheer determination.
Born and raised in Hell’s Kitchen, Matt couldn’t accept what his neighborhood had become.
In his mind, gangs and endless violence had poisoned the community, and if he could break those organizations apart, the city could heal.
The problem was simple.
Crime never truly disappeared.
Destroy one gang and another rushed in to claim the territory.
Matt was, at the end of the day, still human.
His hearing bordered on the supernatural, but everything else was flesh and blood.
Against desperate criminals with nothing left to lose, even he couldn’t avoid getting hurt.
Still…
Alvin admired him.
Anyone who devoted his life entirely to protecting strangers deserved respect.
He looked at Matt apologetically.
“I’m sorry.” “You know I have an agreement with Wilson Fisk.” “I can’t interfere outside the neighborhoods we’re responsible for.” Matt smiled weakly.
The expression carried more exhaustion than amusement.
“Alvin…” “We both want Hell’s Kitchen to become a better place.” He stared down into his beer.
“You’ve transformed three neighborhoods.” “I haven’t changed anything.” “People in every other district are still being robbed.” “They’re still being murdered.” “And there’s nothing I can do.” He rubbed his forehead.
“Sometimes I hate these abilities.” “Every night…” “I hear people crying for help.” “I try.” “I really do.” “But I can’t save everyone.” “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore.” Alvin silently poured him another beer.
Then he added two generous shots of whiskey before sliding the glass across the counter.
He tapped it lightly.
Matt took the hint.
Alvin continued.
“Changing a neighborhood has never been one person’s job.” He leaned against the counter.
“Do you know why the first thing I asked SHIELD for was better equipment for the police?” He didn’t wait for an answer.
“If officers like Michael and Scott have decent gear…” “They’ll patrol at night.” “Most criminals aren’t crazy enough to attack armed police.” “If officers are visible on the streets…” “The neighborhood gets safer.” Matt drank deeply before lowering the mug.
“But people are still getting hurt.” His voice was barely above a whisper.
“And I can’t stop it.” He removed his sunglasses.
His pale, unfocused eyes stared into nothing.
Running both hands over his face, he looked utterly defeated.
Alvin felt both frustrated and sympathetic.
“You’re not God.” “And even God can’t save everyone.” “You have to let yourself breathe once in a while.” He rested a hand on the counter.
“We all want this place to improve.” “So we improve it together.” “You spend every night playing vigilante.” “What if, instead…” “You spent some of that energy helping real police officers do their jobs?” He paused before continuing.
“I’ll talk to Fisk.” “I’ll make him keep his people away from ordinary civilians.” “And you…” “Stop throwing yourself at him.” “All you’re doing is getting yourself hurt.” He sighed.
“As long as Fisk stays in control…” “There’ll at least be some kind of order.” “Even if it’s only criminal order.” Matt finished the rest of his drink in one swallow.
“So he just walks free?” His frustration finally surfaced.
Alvin shook his head.
“Fisk isn’t the real problem.” “Hell’s Kitchen didn’t become this way because of him.” “Killing him would be easy.” He spread his hands.
“But then what?” “Hundreds of gangs suddenly lose the one person keeping them in line.” “What do you think happens next?” He answered his own question.
“Chaos.” “As long as Fisk is alive…” “There’s still a structure.” “Without him…” “Hell’s Kitchen burns.” Matt rested his head on the counter.
He looked lost.
Overwhelmed.
As though the weight of the entire neighborhood had settled onto his shoulders.
“I don’t know if you’re right.” His voice was quiet.
“But you’ve accomplished far more than I have.” He managed a tired smile.
“That doesn’t mean I’ll stop.” “I’ll keep going.” “Until I can’t anymore.” Alvin understood exactly what Matt meant.
Until I die.
He respected that conviction too much to argue.
Instead, he patted Matt on the shoulder.
“I support you.” “But promise me one thing.” “Take a break every now and then.” He poured another drink.
This time, it was straight whiskey.
It didn’t take long.
Matt was completely drunk.
While Foggy was busy entertaining half the restaurant with another exaggerated story, a thin crimson vine silently slipped from beneath Alvin’s sleeve.
It pierced the side of Matt’s calf so gently that he never noticed.
A faint red glow flowed through the vine.
Life energy.
The Corpse Vine had converted countless corpses into pure vitality, and Alvin carefully fed a portion of that stored energy into Matt’s battered body.
Bruises faded.
Tiny fractures mended.
Muscles torn from countless nights of fighting quietly healed.
Only when he judged Matt to be fully recovered did Alvin withdraw the vine.
No one had noticed.
He calmly poured himself another drink.
Raising the glass, he looked at the sleeping vigilante.
“To noble hearts.” “To stubborn determination.” He smiled softly.
“Cheers.” The celebration lasted until midnight.
Only then did Peace Restaurant finally close for the night.
Alvin asked JJ to drive Matt and Foggy home before heading upstairs himself.
His first stop was Nick’s bedroom.
The boy was already asleep.
Alvin smiled, tucked the blanket securely around him, turned off the light, and quietly closed the door.
As he turned into the hallway, someone was waiting.
Jessica leaned against the wall, watching him.
Alvin instinctively touched his face.
“What?” “Do I have something on me?” Jessica simply stared.
There was admiration in her eyes.
And something much shyer.
For a brief moment, Alvin felt strangely uncomfortable.
In his previous life, he’d been a thirty-five-year-old married man.
Being watched so intently by a nineteen-year-old girl felt…
awkward.
So he defaulted to humor.
“Jess.” He looked around theatrically.
“Did you leave something here?” She blinked.
Then slowly shook her head.
Alvin sighed dramatically.
“That’s a shame.” “I thought maybe you’d left your heart behind.” “And were waiting to take it back.” Jessica froze.
Color flooded her face so quickly it was almost visible.
Within seconds, she was scarlet from ears to neck.
Alvin suddenly became worried she might actually burst into flames.
Flustered beyond words, Jessica stamped one foot.
Crack!
The wooden floor exploded beneath her.
Her right leg punched straight through the second-story hallway.
Thrown off balance, she tipped backward.
The sudden movement made her already modest figure look even smaller.
For several long seconds…
Neither of them moved.
Alvin swore to himself that he was staring at the ruined floorboards.
Absolutely the ruined floorboards.
Jessica’s face went from bright red to deathly pale.
She finally looked down.
One leg had disappeared through the floor.
The other was awkwardly hooked over the splintered boards.
She didn’t dare imagine how ridiculous she looked.
Covering her face with both hands, she shoved herself upward.
She used far too much force.
Her trapped leg came free instantly.
Unfortunately…
The movement ripped one pant leg completely open from thigh to ankle, exposing one long, pale leg.
It also tore another section of flooring out with it.
Jessica let out a muffled squeak of absolute despair.
Then sprinted toward her bedroom.
Bang!
She slammed the door.
A heartbeat later…
The entire doorframe ripped free from the wall and crashed into the hallway opposite.
Alvin stared at the damage.
He sighed.
Serves me right.
Why was I teasing Jessica?
Especially a shy girl who could accidentally demolish half the house.
Tomorrow’s going to be expensive.
He carefully peeked through the now doorless doorway.
Jessica had buried her face beneath a pillow and was letting out muffled cries of embarrassment.
Years of married life whispered one piece of wisdom into Alvin’s ear.
Never bother a woman while she’s mortified.
He quietly picked the fallen door back up.
After wrestling the frame roughly into place, he noticed Nick peeking curiously out of his room.
“Caught you.” Alvin smiled.
“Back to bed.” Nick sheepishly retreated.
Finally, Alvin returned to his own room.
After a day like this…
Sleep sounded like the greatest luxury in the world.