Caring For Caretakers

July 03, 2018:

More HK refugees show up at Danny Rand's House.

Danny Rand's House

Wayward home for down-on-their-luck Defenders.


NPCs: None.


Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

Luke arrived back at the Rand compound sometime Saturday morning with Owen, and after a reunion with Jess and a quick bro hug to Danny, he disappeared into one of the Guest rooms to shower and rest. And hasn't surfaced again for days. Now the big man has decided to rejoin the land of the living, lumbering towards the coffee pot in his plaid pajama bottoms and tank, barefoot with no plans to leave the house again just yet. Having spent over 12 hours moving in and out of burning or crumbling buildings, he still has an occasional cough from breathing only god knows what. The term 'unbreakable' doesn't take into account his mucus membranes.

Caffeine in hand, Cage moves towards the stairs and climbs the flights slowly with lead laden feet up to the roof access where there is a garden. With a sigh, he leans against the tree and looks up through the gaps of surrounding buildings to see if there's any more smoke darkening the sky from the direction to Hell's Kitchen.


The roof doesn't get nearly as much action as Danny's basement. But on a beautiful summer day when perspective is needed (both to keep the scope of the tragedy in mind and to see the big picture) the roof is an ideal spot. He has, of course, built a small zen garden. Or maybe it was always there, and he's just made full use of it.

He's sitting by a small water feature, lotus pose, and still. His face is contorted into a decidedly un-zenlike mask. His shoulders are tense, fingers digging into his knees. The zen master seems to be trying to meditate - and failing. The truest test of his lack of focus is that Luke manages to get quite close before something tingles the edges of his senses and his eyes snap open. "Luke," he murmurs, turning his head slightly. "Hey man." He attempts a smile but it's forced.


With Emery Papsworth missing for days, Jessica Jones hasn't even thought about any of her cases.

Instead, she's been pretty on point for taking care of Kennis. Trying to keep her calm and happy. Waking up and making sure she's got breakfast, which means she's actually cooked. It's not Emery-level cooking but she's done it. Making sure she gets to her lessons. Playing with her in the evenings. Getting her to bed on time, with the exception of one My Little Pony marathon. If asked 'where's Da' Jess just said, "He's out helping some people," and left it at that. And tried not to sound too worried.

Throwing herself into this, like she throws herself into anything she decides to do.

But at this present time, the youngster is situated. This means she, too, is wandering up to the roof. If she's at all embarrassed about going all maternal it hasn't showed. She's currently in a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt with a little spiky red cartoon character on it that says Miss Scary. True to her word to Luke, she has not been down to Hell's Kitchen at all.

She flops down against Luke's tree next to him and props up one knee, staring out into the distance. The wave that gets tossed to both of them as she gets up there is pretty much her greeting.


"Bro." Luke greets Danny, resisting the urge to grab up the man from his lotus pose for a life-reassuring hug. "Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt, just wanted to get eyes on the city that didn't come from some news camera." His face screws up when he takes a sip of coffee, a bit of a sting left in the rawness of his throat. He thought it sucked after his bar exploded, and that was being exposed for just a matter of minutes. This time it was hours. Still, with his body healing faster than most, it's tolerable.

As the door to the roof access opens again, he looks at the woman joining them with fondness in his eyes, even if his lips stubbornly refuse to form a smile. The gravity of Friday has the corner of his mouth pulled downward. "Babe."


With this many guests at Danny's pad there's usually a hot meal being prepared or already prepared. There are however, still a healthy amount of leftovers from where Emery preps for days he may be unavailable. But, they are boring leftovers custom tailored for Danny. Lentils. Rice. Potatoes. Beans. Chicken Broth. Just in case he's in a 'meditating mood'.

But there's been no pancakes, no fresh squeezed orange juice, no hot chocolate, no adult grilled cheese sandwich. Just the ghost of the Little Butler who Cussed, haunting the kitchen with the distinct lack of fresh baked goods.

It has not been long enough for Kennis to throw a 'IWANTMYDA' fit but the kettle is definitely boiling, judging by her willingness to volunteer to take a nap and getting more and more quiet.

But where's Da is a brilliant question. In all the aftermath of the HK disasters, the Irishman had thrown himself into helping where he can, tapping on reserves that are only refilled after 'eating' souls or allowing his body to sleep. Something he tries not to do outside of controlled settings. But he can only take so much lifting, running, straining his vocal chords, ignoring cuts and light burns, taking on the pain of other people and smoke inhalation. Its the Car Thieves, his band of Tommy and 'his boys' who first find him, watching paramedics load the burn victim he was protecting onto a stretcher. They work carefully to lift his body and move him somewhere hidden. Dude might have warrants!

But when his body starts convulsing randomly, and he's sweating and occasionally grunting and jerking as if reacting from physical stimulus. They know they have to go get help, leaving his body behind to run and try to find 'That Nurse Lady'. Somewhere between them running for help, and then actually managing to get Claire…Emery's location has also been discovered by a lovely winged equine named 'Brightwind'.

All in all, shirtless with all of his tattoos, faded scarring and a better physique than any butler really should have exposed he is somehow draped over the back of a horse, still out of it and with hair so filled with ash and dirt, it looks grey. Its been a busy couple of days.


Danny unfolds himself slowly, but gracefully, and gets up to his (naturally, bare) feet. He straightens his t-shirt and takes a deep breath. "It seems like a stupid thing to ask, but how are you both doing? I…" whatever he was going to add gets forestalled by the Pre-Raphaelite painting in motion that is Emery draped over a flying horse. The man who has seen and fought a dragon just kind of stares. He pokes Luke as if to say, 'is this actually here?'

He's distracted (only momentarily) by a buzzing of his phone in his pocket. Normally he doesn't have it on him when he's meditating, but there's too much going on right now to fully disconnect. Frankly, that's probably why he wasn't able to meditate. He makes a face at the display that's a little hard to read but might be mild confusion. Then there's a look of understanding. He types something back, then flips over to an app that lets him unlock the new security system remotely. Which…kind of defeats the purpose of a high tech security system, but it DID point cameras at the door first.


A winged horse that lands right on the rooftop of Danny Rand's house with Butler, Valkyrie and Night Nurse astride him. The wing stallion just turns a bright blue eye upon the small gathering already there and snorts. Thankfully there won't be any need for horse charades as Danielle Moonstar says, "Hey, sorry for barging in unannounced like this." And while there should be some awkwardness from the Cheyenne woman there's not. Not when Emery is injured in some sort of way. "We found Emery and he's not doing too good."

Moonstar is the first to dismount and then she's extending a hand to Claire to help the other woman down, should she need it. If not then Dani moves to the strategically draped and shirtless Emery to gently and carefully slide him off of Brightwind's back.

Brightwind for his part stands stock still, though his attention stays upon the group of mostly strangers.


What does it take to drag 'That Nurse Lady' out of the hospital she's been living in since she hopped into an ambulance with a patient The Night Of? Or the Morning of, or … time got lost early in the blood and rubble haze. It takes a gaggle of tweens and teenagers disrupting an ER that is still ridiculously overloaded and eerily subdued at once. The conversations that make it out of everyone being dazed are hushed. The most constant noise is coughing. But when the rowdy energy pours in? Well, it's finally time for the person that doesn't actually legally work there any more to go. Insurance riders can only be overlooked for so long.

Her first time outside in days. First time seeing it, because who has time to watch the news? Check the internet? It's been blood and tissue, intubations, ventilators, too few resources, too much pain. The nurse is all shell shocked blank face as the kids tug her along, tripping on rubble where there was a curb, clambering over a stack of debris that practically barricades an alley. The landscape she could walk as blind as Matt Murdock is no more.

And then there's Emery with initial readings and responses that don't make a lick of sense. The eternal, "We need to get him to a hospital," is met with the eternal "No, he can't go there," from his band of merry men.

"Well, we can take him to my place," Claire said. That's when the furtive looks the awkward silence, and the 'who's going to tell her' looks kicked in. The news doesn't even have time to settle before Dani, and Brightwind, and Dani's offer of help.

Which leads to the considerably less eternal words: "I'm not going to argue with the lady with the flying …" Nope. Can't say the complete phrase flying horse yet. The government ID doesn't hurt either.

What kind of weekend has it been for the medical folks? Well. Claire Temple is still in scrubs - borrowed scrubs. There are smudges of red, yellow, green, and black spray paint on her face and throat. Her lower arms are clean though. They're more than clean. They look raw after being scrubbed again and again and again and again over the last, well, frankly? She's not sure how many hours. Everything about her looks a little raw, come to think of it, the frazzled too little sleep, too much everything else, nerves out at the surface of her skin. The only luggage she's shown up with is a big plastic bag from the hospital gift shop stuffed with medical gear that a friendly admin 'looked the other way over'/'helped her pack.' The usual medical kits are so must dust.

And on top of it all? Bow legged and bumfuzzled as she slides down with Dani's help. "I suppose now's the time to mention I never sat on a horse before…"


It's not too long at all after Danny has an exchange with his phone that the man he was exchanging with makes his way through the roof entrance. He's announced by a rhythmic tap/tap/tap of a walking stick making its way up the stairs.

Matt Murdock is alive and in one piece, contrary to sensationalist television reporters who seem to suggest just about everyone in the ill-fated neighborhood perished in the great conflagration. He's dressed in a slate grey t-shirt and a just-washed pair of faded old jeans. Those signature round shades of his are gone, replaced by tanned off-brands. His hair is a little disheveled, his stubble is thick enough to be a full-on beard at this point, and his skin is wan. But he is alive, and in one piece — even if there are splotches of bruises on his forearms, the hinge of his jaw, and his left knuckle.

He's got a cane in one hand, and a six-pack of some German Hefeweizen in the other. "Hello?" he says to the open air. "Danny? Are you —" A pause, and then a skeptical: "Do you… keep a horse up here? That's totally against code."


One minute Jessica's opening her mouth to answer Luke. Then…horse! People! Some of whom she's been really worried about!

Her mouth opens and closes as all her emotions go searching around for places to connect and things they'd like to do. Finally: "Claire, where do you want him?" Her brain priortizes half-dead Emery on horse first, and she knows Claire is the source of treatment for that, and she knows Claire does not want to do it on Brightwind's back. She steps forward, meaning to just scoop him up. Luke is coughing, she can, and she feels weirdly responsible for him right now.

To Matt, this version of: very, very glad to see you alive man, which comes out as a quipped: "He's Danny frickin' Rand. He don't need no stinkin' code."


Luke straightens up from his lean, but he doesn't need the poke from Danny to draw his attention to a GODDAMN FLYING HORSE. "If Rainbow Brite gets off that thing, I quit. I just quit." That pretty much sums up how he is.

He reaches down to help Jessica stand as the winged animal lands, not because she needs it, just a reflex of politeness that goes to her elbow. He trails after her like an amplified shadow until he sees Moonstar, and then his limbs lose all mobility. It's like he's been struck by her arrow all over again, but instead of being slammed into a dream world where he's holding his dead wife again, it's just the nightmare of remembering. The echoes from the way she plucked his most vulnerable fear from his head and fed it back to him. As one of the token Lift and Tote members of their circle, he should be moving forward to take the weight of Emery from the Dani. He should be greeting Matt with a patented near crushing bro-hug. But instead he just stands there, breaking out into a cold sweat on his bald head.


Danny isn't exactly at brohug level with Matt yet, but the lawyer does get a warm handshake with one hand clasped over the other and a squeeze. "Good to see you in one piece, man." Then he leans in and murmurs, "There's a flying horse on my roof. At least, I'm pretty sure there is." He'll leave it to his imagination why he might think otherwise.

The moment of mirth turns into furrowed brow which turns into concern. "Emery? Shit. What's wrong with him? I can..—" he cuts himself off and looks down at his fist. He can't, not really. At least he can't be sure he can summon his chi to heal right now.


Brightwind is far smarter than the average horse and when people start moving he keeps his keen gaze upon them. That gaze shifts over to Matt at the mention of being against code and the horse once more snorts. Then he shakes his head before settling down again.

To Claire, Dani offers a slight grin, "I would never have known." Which is a lie, but Dani can be polite like that when situations are tense. As for Matt, the Cheyenne woman begins to say, "Medical emergency -" Only those words never finish, not when Dani turns her attention to Jess and then her rather large shadow.

There's a second where it doesn't click, but then it does. She remembers just where she met Luke Cage and the woman's expression shifts rapidly from shock, to anguish, sorry and then to blankness.

She opens her mouth to apologize, but nothing quite comes out. Not with all the people around.

Instead, Dani's attention shifts to Jess when the woman carefully manhandles Emery. "Thanks."


It's Danny's house and all, but Claire turns to Jess' voice first. There's a split second of 'what are you doing here?' and 'OH THANK GOD YOU'RE HERE' all mixed in one. It's quickly overwhelmed by "A hospital, but since that doesn't seem to be anyone's first choice, inside - his room." She takes a second to glance in the direction of Hell's Kitchen and flinches. Hard. "The pretty debris sunset isn't worth what's in the air. Good news - breathing is normal, no obstructions, no signs of internal bleeding, no distension or tenderness. Some abrasions, but nothing serious. So far he doesn't even need stitches. Just …" She gestures towards Emery, aka Sleeping Booty, before picking out Danny's voice. "Has this happened to him …" the 'what's wrong with him?" answers that.

It's Luke that gets a second look from Claire, though. "Him we may need to evaluate for shock."


Matt gently props the walking stick against the wall in time to receive that handshake and clasp from Danny Rand. There's a flying horse on his roof, he's told, and his bushy eyebrows shoot up high over his shades.

"You know, as your lawyer I've also got to remind you that most varieties of hallucinogenics are against the law, too," Matt quips, though he seems to take it mostly in stride. "Even if you are, uh, 'Danny frickin' Rand.'"

Of course, Matt picks up on a great deal more than he shows, and so it's safe to say that he has a good read on an atmosphere suddenly charged with cortisol and elevated heartbeats, marked by one man in less-than-ideal shape, and one person he never thought he'd find in Danny Rand's rooftop garden.

"Thanks, though, Danny," Matt murmurs. "Everything — alright?" The question would seem flip, even ridiculous — who is alright these days? — if it weren't so pointed.


Jessica looks up at Luke. "She's fixed, it wasn't her fault," she tells him, which is the best she can do. She shoots Moonstar an apologetic look and a shrug, then shoots Claire an understanding look. She starts winding her way back down into the house to get Emery to his room where she can treat him. "Maybe not shock, but when you're done with Emery Luke's got some serious upper respiratory issues going." Like he was going to get out of treatment for that. She smirks at Matt's quip, but, focused on being nurse's aide, continues on her way with only a, "Glad to see you're alive, man," as she passes, that's far more serious beneath the surface than it sounds. Hopefully Kennis will stay put.

"I've got the earrings on me if you need X-rays," she tells Claire. The wonders of Janetech.


For a man in basically a coma, when he's unslung from the horse and handled by strong women in a way he cannot currently enjoy…he is not as pale as he was when Claire was first summoned, bad bruises are now lighter bruises. Scrapes and Cuts are scabbing over. But the Irishman's eyes remain rolled back in his head so that only the whites show, and they move back and forth quickly like someone having an active dream.

Emery's lips do start moving though, murmuring the latin phrase for 'forgive me, forgive me, forgive me' over and over again as his consiousness starts swimming through the thick black shadows of collected tortures. There is a reason he usually restrains himself as well as his body jerks and thrashes violently.

Then it goes ramrod stiff and straight, breathing stopping and he lets out a scream that one only hears in medieval torture chambers or in the midst of disasters that are unspeakable horrific. Its gutteral and raw and filled with so much pain and agony as his eyes snap open and he gasps for air.


'Fixed,' she says. 'Not her fault', she says. None of that does much to shake lose the image of Reva turning to ash in Luke's fingertips. He swallows it away to linger in the corner of his mind with a mumbled, "I'm fine." To the others as he lifts the hem of his shirt and mops his shiny dome with the material. "I'm fine." Reiterated again when Jess points out his cough to the nurse that Luke remembers triaging Jessica's street on Friday. Moving his feet again, he draws closer to the others, giving the horse a wide berth when he clamps Murdock on the shoulder. "Another day in paradise." But as Emery lets out that blood curdling scream, he spurs forward towards the stairs where Jess has disappeared to see if she needs help.


Danny is doing a lot of frowning, and then a deeply contorted, worried look as Emery goes through all of his various convulsions. If he knows anything about his butler's abilities, it seems he's being tight-lipped. "I um…I have…more than a first aid kit. I'll get it." And then the ninja is sprinting down the stairs, thudding in a way that is more than just his trained and dragon-given reflexes. He has muscle memory for this house.


Dani stays near Brightwind, even as Jess picks up Emery and carts him away.

Mostly she's just going to stay quiet while the group works and offer help when needed.

She'll stay long enough in case they really do need to take Emery to the hospital, and when it's clear they won't that's when Dani retreats away. Though there's a promise in her mind to revisit Luke to properly apologize. Or try to at the very least.


Claire Temple has visited the house once before, but she didn't get the tour. She falls into step behind Jessica in hopes of not losing her, though yeah - Matt fricking Murdock gets a double take. "I'll take a look at anyone that was in the Kitchen. I - oh hell. Jess, can you call my mom when we have him down? My phone …" Her phone's fate trails off, one of thousands of cracked dead tech devices. The various tangled thoughts coalesce when Emery appears to seize. Don't mind her grabbing for the disorganized plastic bag of medical goodies to see what she ended up with. "Okay, his lungs are definitely in better shape than they should be," she says dryly after that scream.


Matt doesn't need to feign any blind-man's startlement at that scream; his super-sensory powers both amplify it affects (ouch!) and catch its quality and origins precisely. It's the scream of the penitent; maybe even the scream of the damned. Who would know it better?

"That's one word for it," Matt says to Luke of 'paradise' before backing against the wall of the rooftop entrance. There's the faintest flicker of a smile paid towards Jess as she passes, but otherwise his attention is held on the screaming man and those trying to help him.


Jessica goes a bit stiff when Emergy starts jerking and moving in her arms, concentrating on holding him steady. But when he screams?

She goes wide-eyed and lets out a sharp, "Son of a bitch!" She keeps right on trying to keep him held up though, because…what else is she going to do? She looks down at Emery and goes, "Hey. Hey! You're safe! You're home! You're okay!"

And the ever helpful and supportive: "Jesus Christ!"

Because her bedside manner needs work. "Danny," she hisses. "After you get whatever you gotta make sure Kennis doesn't come up here." Because she can't break and do that right now, and Danny's the other one in this house the little one trusts.


"You got him?" Luke pauses at the railing, one foot pausing on the top stair unsure of whether to rush to her aid or if that will just make things worse or get in Claire's way. He looks back over his shoulder at Matt, like he expects the blind man to give him some advice in the situation because his mind is still numb from seeing Dani.


There's faint trembling yes, as the world around him rushes back into place. Emery is hearing voices as he chokes out the words. "Omnipotentia Patris, adiuva fragilitatem meam et e profundo miseriae eripe me…." Almost pleadingly. Latin for: Omnipotence of the Father, help my frailty and save me from the depths of misery. Somewhere, in the house, Kennis is being distracted and seen to by Danny because that scream makes her stir a bit in her own napping, starting to sit up blearily. Thankfully, Danny is there.

Meanwhils, the elder Papsworth is blinking blearily and reaching up shakily to probe his own jaw, whispering something completely random. Or seemingly so. "Over 70 years and that fucking dentist…always goes for teh teeth…goddamn Finnish son of a bitch.." Another gasp as he looks around and blinks a bit. "…Oh shite, give me…give me a sec and I'll get the tea started," as he just slumps down again, body sagging with his mental exhaustion.


Don't worry, Luke. Getting in CLaire's way is unlikely to happen at the moment. Nurse on a mission! She puts a hand on Jess' less Emery burdened shoulder to catch her attention and get her to halt. "Let's put him down," she says, wherever they may be between roof and Emery's actual room. Time to get in there and do the immediate checks - airway, bleeding, check the pupils. But it's the mental stuff that ends up getting the most focus rather swiftly, especially with the random babble about oral health, and where do the Finns come into this anyway?

"Nobody needs tea right now," Claire lies to him expertly. A cuppa would really hit the spot. "What's your name?" -Pause for answer-. "What day and year is it?" Another pause, possibly a bit longer since she doesn't know what day it is herself. "Who's President?" And then the, "Do you know where you are?" Poor Matt may be getting flashbacks overhearing that voice asking those questions.


Emery recites bits of Latin well-known to the boy who spent so many of his formative years under the Mother Church's roof. It confirms the quality of the scream and piques his curiosity.

Luke gives Matt a sidelong, imploring look, as if he could see it. And yet Matt sees the contours of the world well enough — and perhaps knows Luke and his current level of distress well enough — to know it when it comes. He juts his jaw in the general direction of Emery and the woman attending to him.

"Let her work," Matt Murdock suggests in that quiet tone of his, before adding a touch archly: "She, ah, seems to know what she's doing."


Jessica just puts Emery down on the stairs as suggested, letting Claire do her thing. She sets herself lower than him on the stairs, ready to catch him if he convulses or falls or anything like that. Now that he's on to Latin and Claire's on to looking out for him he calms down. "Never a dull goddamn moment," she mutters, glancing at the two men. Still, when it becomes clear Kennis is dealt with she relaxes considerably.

She, of course, doesn't understand a word of the Latin. Except that one word that sounds like misery, maybe. To Luke: "I thought you said he was fine and pulling bodies out of the fire when you last saw him." There's no accusation there, it's just…Detective Questioning, instantly needing to know what the Hell has happened, zeroing in on the last person here who saw Emery whole and hale.


"Great, now he's speaking in tongues." Luke slinks back against the wall near Matt, arms threading across his chest to fold there and frown at the scene.

"He was. I don't know what his…" He looks to Claire, suddenly wondering what this nurse knows about them and doesn't, so he covers up the end of his sentence with another cough, although it sounds a bit forced this time around to more discerning ears. "He seemed to be holding his own well enough. But we lost track of each other early in the evening. We'd pass each other occasionally carrying people to the medical teams. Nurse lady here," They haven't been properly introduced! Had he known her name, he would have been able to tell Jess she was spotted too. "Was rocking the triage with spray paint cans. It was kind of genius." He knew the color system already from his time in the police force and mass casualty training.


Oooh this is too much muss and fuss for the Irishman as he squints at Claire for a moment. "Everybody needs a cup of tea, Miss Claire." Another deep breath as he moves a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Emery Papsworth, professional Butler and certified Personal Assistant. I don't know what day it is but its 2018 and Hell's Kitchen just got bombed by some arseholes. I dun care who the President is and apparently I'm back at Master Danny's with two beautiful women fussin' over me quite endearingly. Miss Jones, I trust me daughter is…okay?"

He works on sitting up. "Me apologies to ye all. I must've dosed off. Miss Claire, Miss Jessica, Master Luke…" A few more blinks as he rubs his eyes and shakes his head, dust and ash going flying in a tiny cloud, before his eyes fall on Matt and he lets his hand fall. "And you I dunnot know but you are indeed a gorgous and well appreciated addition to this visual bag of assorted truffles I've awakened to."

He waves a hand vaguely again. "I'm /fine/. Really. I'll be up and checking the lauder to make sure I can put out a proper tea service for ye all…Just give me a few."


Penlight! That's what the plastic bag gives up first. Emery's doing well enough with the questions! Claire has picked out her own bit of stair, crouching precariously on toe tip as she flashes a penlight at Emery's eyes. "Stop flirting with everyone for a minute so I can listen to your breathing again." At least now that she's exchanging the light for the stethoscope. At least the butler's already conveniently shirtless as she sets to work. When that's done, she nods to Jessica in hopes of reassuring her. "Assuming that the truffle talk is normal for him? He's in better shape than anyone else I've examined the last couple of days."
That said, she leans towards Jess a little. Sure, Luke and Clare are in two slightly different areas and conversations, but they appear to be on similar trains of thought. She lowers her voice to ask Jessica, "So this is either the world's biggest coincidence club or you all know one another's … talents, right?" Considering Jones took the heavy lifting part of the evening? It's a fair guess.


Luke says the man is speaking in tongues, and Matt smiles his first smile outside the company of Foggy Nelson in half a week. It's a slight thing, and tinged with continued concern for the man Claire Temple is treating, but it's still genuine. "No, that's not speaking in tongues, it's speaking in Latin," Matt says with a crane of his head towards Luke. "Altar boy over here." Saying that, of course, sparks some memories that stifle that fleeting bit of mirth.

It all gives way when Emery himself wakes up and turns on his gift of gab. The lawyer's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Ah, Matt Murdock," he offers, with wry skepticism not limited to the man's protests that he's fine, everything's fine. "Nice to meet you, Mr..?"


"Claire Temple, here, is the MacGuyver of medicine," Jessica says, by way of explanation to Luke, but she's smirking as Emery finds a way to flirt with every last person in this stairwell, including Matt.

Jess, of course, has never really hidden her powers. But when Claire asks…

She shakes her head with a quick cut of a glance between Matt and Emery, seconds before Matt introduces himself and asks for Emery's name in turn. Instead, she murmurs, "I'm glad you made it out of that shit okay. I was worried about you."

Then: "Claire, the Man Mountain here is Luke Cage. He might be a challenge to treat."

Which should give her the rest of the rundown on who knows what about whom. While finishing all relevant introductions.


Luke gives Matt a long glance and slowly the big man bends sideways until his bald head is closer to the lawyer's, "Am I allowed to tease you about that?" He asks in relation to the confession of being an altar boy, because, c'mon! Murdock opened a whole can of worms with that one. He straightens again with a gruff huff of air at Jess about being a difficult patient, "I'm fine." He repeats again, about as happy as Emery is about having a fuss made over him, without the flirtation. An up-nod is given to Claire at the introduction however.

"Emery, Danny's given you the day off. Which means if you step foot in that kitchen and try to make something, I have the authority to sit on you until you stop squirming." Cage adds quickly. "And not in the fun way. You can go back to making pancakes tomorrow."


"Oh good God woman…" Emery sighs in exasperation as there's light flashed in his eyes and then he has to adjust himself when the cold of the stethoscope touches his skin. He's still got some healing to do, but he's not dead. Just a bit dirty. Really Dirty. Actually dirty not just dirty minded. "Mm, Miss Claire…are /you/ alright? Have ye had a decent meal and some time to rest since the explosion?" He tsks softly, its reflexive really.

Then he just offers Jessica a weary but genuine smile. "Oi, ye knew I was comin' back…otherwise Danny would have ye eatin' lentils and rice." He winks and then winces slightly. Okay, no winking for a moment. On to Matt. "Ooooh, you are the other half of the team me 5 year old hired to sue evil faeries? Your law husband did not mention how handsome ye were. Did he share the cupcakes? I'm Emery Papsworth, Danny's Personal Butler and also a Certified Personal Assistant, at your service."

And on to Luke he just quirks an eyebrow. "I'm going to have a bath, and hug me daughter. But after that…no promises. I will risk bein' crushed between your massive man thighs to cook for me people. Its not like I can go back to sleep, why would I get any more rest?"

He stares off at nothing for a moment, flashing back to what he just witnessed and pulled himself through with assistance from so many others. He just bows his head for a moment, murmuring softly again in Latin. "Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine, et lux perpetua luceat eis. Requiescant in pace. Amen." And quickly crosses himself. "I've got to get meals started as well, for the survivors and their families…" So much to do.

Translation: ETERNAL rest grant unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May they rest in peace. Amen.


Claire Temple hooks the stethoscope around her neck in anticipation of the next two up on the list. Yeah, she also rolls her eyes at the squirmy reaction to the stetoscope and the good god womaning. "Someone will get you some water. And something to eat. But then you have to rest, even if you can't go back to sleep. Your body needs some time. You've been breathing toxic soup for a couple of days and going nonstop. The hugging the kid is a good idea, though. And stop it with the meals - do you know how many abeulas are on the case? And every restaurant in the city." It is definitely some physician heal thyself advice, especially considering that she is also dirty, really dirty, and actively skipping answering his question about food and rest. Matt can probably hear her stomach rumble at the mention of a meal, though.

She leans just slightly towards Jessica when she mentions being worried. God, falling over would be so nice. "Haven't had a chance to worry. Or to stop by your … did your building make it?" The new sickening hey, how you doing question to ask one's neighbors. She starts packing up the plastic bag before thudding down to sit more fully on a step instead of perching on it. There's a long exhalation before she lifts a hand to Luke in greeting. As for Matt? Well, she'll ask that question once he's taken the lead on if they know one another or not as far as the others know.

One thought does pop in, though, and she finally stares between lawyer and buttling menace. "Wait. Did he say sue evil fairies?"


Luke says to Matt: It's alright if I tease you about it, isn't it? Matt's smile is faint, tinged with melancholy. "Yeah, sure, it's fair game. Just go a little gentle right now. My, uh, altar has seen better days." As has the man he visited at confessional once a week or more, comatose in the ICU. Our modern day version of Purgatory.

It's easy to get maudlin, but he came to be social, to force himself out of the black hole it would be so easy to crawl into. Matt brings all his stubbornness to bear on that, and no amount of strangeness or the perpetual reminders of what he's lost will deter him. "I'm willing to bet she hasn't," Matt answers Emery of whether Claire has had anything to eat since the accident. "Ms. Temple is very dedicated to her work, and there's been a — lot of work to do." That answer, which somehow sounds both wry and solemn at once, should elegantly answer the question of whether they know each other. The how's… well, they'll improvise.

Then Emery's accosting him directly about — fairies? Cupcakes? His… law-husband? "Nice to meet you, Mr. Papswrorth. You — uh, have me at a disadvantage, though. I don't think Foggy's fully briefed me on that particular case," he says with a twitch of his lips. Who is this guy, who sings the song of the damned in Latin and then plays the perfect host? He raises one staying arm and says politely: "And thanks, but I'm good on food for now."


"You're not. You're hacking up a lung," Jessica grouses at Luke. "You've been hacking up a lung since you got back. So shut up and let the nice nurse treat you. This is where you do this just cause I asked you to, because I stayed put for you. As soon as Claire feels up to it."

Oh, what? Did he think she wasn't going to whip that out the moment it suited her? Think. Again. Jessica Jones, past master of tucking away all kinds of resources until she needs them to ask, push, or bully people into doing whatever it is she thinks they ought to be doing.

Emery mentions the lentils, and Jess smirks. "Ha. Yeah. No. See. We're here in Ridiculous Rich land, and apparently even after a neighborhood gets wiped out in New York some places around here still deliver. The Wonders of Take Out have abounded. It's a damn good thing you are back. Otherwise it wouldn't be the assholes who get us, it would be the cholesterol. You might legitimately have to desalinate your kid."

But she steps out of Emery's way. She'll let Luke and Claire continue fighting that battle. Or not. Either way, she thinks sending Emery to hug Kennis is a grand plan.

"I'm told it didn't," Jessica says to Claire, of her building. She offers a steadying arm to the woman. "I wasn't there. I happened to be here babysitting Emery's kid at the time." And she still feels worlds of conflict about that very fact. "And…that's…just where I've kind of been since. Speaking of people who need food, sleep, and a shower, you look like shit. Come on. Let's get you to a chair, at least."

And then to Matt, who is showing all those signs of fatigue. "You too, Matt. You look like you need to sit too. Emery, once you've hugged all the hugs, if we can't stop you from cooking I will at least help. I take direction well."

Her tone is this weird blend of gentle and sour. Gentle, because she's still in full maternal instinct mode. Sour, because she is bracing to take crap from any or all of them, either about whether or not they need to rest or eat or sit or whatever or because she is in this full Mom/Big Sister mode that she doesn't generally own up to having, but in fact has in spades.


Contrary to his perpetual state, Luke rumbles, "Not hungry," after Matt from where he's leaning, standing by in case he's needed but Claire seems to have everything under control and Emery seems alright all things considered. There's still a chance someone might need to be thrown over his shoulder and carted, like if the nurse suddenly collapses from fatigue. "Right. You heard the woman. Showers and rest for everyone." Even though Jess just suggested sitting. "Pick a guest room, any guest room, except the one at the end of the hall, that's mine and Jess'." He makes a shooing motion to those on the stairs, and reaches out a light touch to Matt's elbow.


It takes him a moment. He is mentally exhausted. Physically healing. He just wants to hold his daughter and everyone is making good points so he carefully gets to his feet and keeps his head bowed as he processes everything being said. "Miss Jessica…there are no words to describe how much I appreciate your sacrifice." Deep Breath. "There are crisps, both potato and pita. There is some hummus and queso in the fridge. There is stew frozen in the freezer thst can be heated up. Miss Jessica and Master Luke know where the tea and coffee caddies are. Feed yourselves and appreciate one another. Master Luke, make up one of the guest rooms for Nurse Claire, there should still be clean linens, but it may need fresh towels. If Master Murdock wishes to stay as well, there is plenty of room. It was a pleasure to meet you."

Then a man that has yet to be broken by time and pain just shrugs helplessly. "I will be with me daughter…for a while." He turns to start walking off before pausing to look over his shoulder at all those gathered. "You are all beautiful, talented, gifted and kind. Don't let this tragedy twist any of it, instead let you rage, your sorrow and your fear come together and rise from the ashes as something even more powerful…Hope. I believe in you all, and I am proud of every single one of you." He bows his head politely and makes his way to for once, see to himself before seeing to others.


Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor Fall of HK stays those eyerolls from their appointed rounds. Claire has another one when Matt calls her Ms Temple, but at least it shakes a smirk from her. Jessica saying the words /Claire feels up to it/ are enough to finally push her back up to her feet, albeit with the rock solid strength of Jones' arm to help her out. Right. Standing. Just in time to win a loving insult of her very own. "I'd say at least I don't smell like it, but I might be lying today. Though huh. If you have a room here, I don't suppose you have something clean for me to borrow do you?"

The combined might of Jessica and Luke tagteaming the caretakers to take care of themselves? It's a mighty force. Claire holds up her hands - not going to argue against them. "Fine, fine. But can I borrow someone's phone on the way down?" Someone needs to be shouted at for a few minutes about remembering to call their mother after almost being blown out so they don't worry for three days. Emery's pep talk is enough to make her still for a second, taking it in respectfully. When he's on his way down and hopefully out of earshot? She turns to look at Jess and says, "Papplebottom is muscling in on my pep talk turf. But rage… after a shower and phone call, time to tell me what you've been able to figure out about who or what's behind this?"


"That's a man who knows how to make an exit," Matt Murdock says with a turn of his head as Emery Papsworth bounds off for his daughter after that rousing speech. He can't take too much of it to heart — he has no idea who the man is, after all — but they're pretty words during an ugly time. He won't turn them away.

Claire, meanwhile, wants a few imminently understandable things: a bath, a place to sleep, and some answers about the nightmare of the last week. "I don't think anyone knows too much," he says, grudgingly but forthrightly now that they are in the company of people 'in the know' about his other life. "But I can tell you a little more about what we do. I think it's connected to some of the neighborhood's — ah, longstanding troubles."

A beat, and then: "But yeah, a bath and food and a bed sound great. At least for a couple hours. Then I've got to —" Well. Get back out there.

Matt glances over his shoulder as Luke touches his arm. He gives an up-nod with his chin, a gesture of respect. "Good to see you," he says, dryly.


Luke changing it up doesn't bother her. Everyone needs to be in one of four places. Eating, sitting, sleeping, showering. Between Emery and Luke they're going to end up in one of those spots.

"Jeez. I was playing with a five year old, not bleeding myself into a bowl," Jessica says, embarrassed, to what Emery says about sacrifice. "It was no problem. I'm just really glad you're home."

"I have clothes," she tells Claire. "I think they might fit you okay? Enough to keep you going for days if your apartment isn't standing. You can use my phone too. I'm sorry, I forgot to answer that earlier." Their builds aren't precisely the same, but Jess has some stuff that will probably do. But to Claire's question she is left only to shake her head and glance at Matt Murdock, who was, after all, there, and who is, after all, also an excellent investigator. She knows what Luke told her, but. That is third hand hearsay for her at this point. Matt's answer all but confirms it, but of course, he continues his pattern of making things into state secrets. And since it has been his investigation, Jessica continues her pattern of supporting him in that.

As for the rousing speech she has zero comment, but she will leave Luke to show Matt to a room and to get on that sheet duty while she shows Claire to one, and gets on 'outfitting Claire' duty.


There is a look that Luke gives Matt about 'not much', even though visual cues are lost on the fellow and so it comes with a clearing of his throat too. Other than that he doesn't comment on what is known or not known, let everyone get settled in and rested first. Give them the energy to plot against the Big Bad. "You too, my man. You too." Not only glad, but relieved. "Look, I'll play maid duty, but I draw the line at fishnets and a skirt." Jess can raid his dresser too, if anyone needs anything. Like a thigh length t-shirt to drown in as a night shirt.

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