Chapter Text
It had been a little over a year since Matt and Willow’s first training session at Fogwell’s, and a lot had happened. For starters, Willow had been given a nickname by a local newspaper - the grim reaper, thanks to how she makes criminals “drop dead”, and she kind of hated it,
“I don’t kill people, they just don’t understand my powers.”
“You might just have to make peace with it, I don’t think they’re letting this name go anytime soon.”
“But it sucks, what unpaid intern came up with it? “Look out, it’s the grim reaper”, makes me sound like a fucking halloween decoration.”
The article it had originated from wasn’t that great either, full of mutant hate and fake eyewitness statements. The journalist said someone had found one of her ‘victims’ dead in a dumpster - no pulse, shallow breathing, and completely unresponsive. Willow thought they had no idea how to check someone's vitals, and constantly told Matt that she’s not strong enough to throw someone in a dumpster.
“I’ve got noodle arms, Matt. How do they expect me to lift a grown man? Are they crazy?”
Matt on the other hand had no name, he was too evasive, and most people in Hell’s kitchen still had no idea he was out and about.
In other news, Willow had turned 15. Her birthday had been “abysmal and depressing”, in her opinion, she was in a bad mood from the second it hit January 18th. All it did was bring up memories of a day turned sour four years prior, a broken porch light leading to years of pain and isolation. She hadn’t meant to break it, some kid from the house behind theirs had leaned over the fence and scared her with a fake spider, and her mutation finally made itself known by exploding the porch light. Her mom had seen the way her hand glowed and immediately brought her inside. Nothing was the same after. She’d told Matt that she’d turned 15, after a period of concerned questioning, and he’d looked semi-relieved.
Probably thought I was dying or something.
Patrolling as a pair had also become a regular thing, Matt had spontaneously shown up on the roof she was catching her breath on one day, scaring the living daylights out of her. After that, they’d started patrolling on Tuesdays and Fridays, with training staying on Thursdays. If anyone were to ask, he would say that she’s improving with each week. Her punches were strong, a lot of force behind her movements. And since she’d finally started sparring with him? She knew how to use her knowledge in a fight.
But most importantly, Matt had become Willow’s guardian. It had happened about three months after her birthday; she’d helped stitch him up after he got stabbed stopping a kidnapping and promptly fallen asleep on his couch, waking up to a maskless Matt and an offer to finally get out of St Agnes. He’d clearly been thinking about it for a while and now she was living in his apartment with a room of her own. Turns out there was a small room on the other side of the bathroom that he’d been using for storage, which she helped turn into her room. It was pretty empty so far, with Willow not having many items to her name, but now she could invite her friend over, or go places other than St Agnes, school, or a park of Sister Maggie’s choosing.
To keep a long story short, things were starting to feel stable for Willow, she had a routine and somewhere she could call home. It was easier to go on patrol now too, why sneak out of a window when she could open a door to the roof? Life was improving, she just needed to make sure nothing ruined it. “Nothing”, to Willow, included herself. She wasn’t entirely sure what she’d done to push Arthur away, but she wasn’t keen on history repeating itself. Maybe that’s why she’d been following Matt on patrol all night.
Better to stay close and not be needed than be far away and not get somewhere in time. I’m just… thinking ahead.
Matt kept leaping across rooftops, inching closer and closer to the port, where Willow could see stacks of shipping containers reflecting the streetlight. She was so busy looking at the metal and the sudden drop into the Hudson that she didn’t notice Matt coming to an abrupt stop in front of her until she almost ran into him.
“Oh! Uh, fancy seeing you here.”
“Why were you following me?”
“Following you? I wasn’t- It’s just- shit- I wanted to stay close, in case you needed help. Clearly you don’t, I just didn’t want to, um…”
She trailed off, noting Matt’s expression. He didn’t look mad, per say, just a bit miffed, based on the way he frowned under his mask.
“I don’t need your help tonight Wil’, especially with this,”
He gestured towards the shipping containers,
“Just go further out.”
“Like closer to your apartment?”
“Anywhere but here, okay? I’m sorry, I just don’t want you involved.”
He waited for her to leave before vanishing into the small container yard, and she tried to ignore the various sounds coming from the area. Her wandering, occasionally interrupted by some type of criminal, took her to the edge of Hell’s kitchen. She’d ventured out before, usually for school, but other than that, the last time she’d been to Midtown was with Arthur.
At least I know my way around.
So she started walking through, ignoring what time it was according to her watch.
No school tomorrow anyway, yay for summer break.
There didn’t seem to be much happening in Midtown tonight, she couldn’t hear any obvious signs of distress, so she climbed up onto a roof, gazing out at all of the lights. Cars flooded the main roads, their headlights reflecting off of tinted windows and storefronts. Lights were still on in at least half of the windows around, a funny substitute for the stars, which, to Willow’s dismay, couldn’t be seen.
2am on a Wednesday and its still fucking busy.
The view of the still mostly lit up buildings distracted her from keeping an eye on her surroundings, and she barely noticed the yelling down the street. There was a man, and a little girl who looked to be about four, maybe five. The girl was in tears, trying to wrench her arm out of the grip of her apparent captor, to go over to a third person, who was making their way over. This person caught her attention; they were dressed in all white, but the details of the outfit were hard to see from a distance, so Willow started rushing over to help. The guy was trying to drag the girl over to his car. She ran straight at the guy, arm pulled back to throw a punch, he was so close, almost within reach, but she froze at the sight of a blade being plunged into his chest. His ribs breaking apart with a sickening crunch as they got in the way of this guys sword. The little girl screamed at the sight of the blood, and Willow wordlessly got on her knees and beckoned her over, staring in shock at the corpse in front of her. The person in white pulled his weapon out of the man's chest, before turning to face her. Neither of them said anything, and she tried to soothe the kid, who had buried her face into the older girl's shoulder to sob.
It was easy to see the details of this guys suit now - white cape with a hood, glowing eyes, straps of fabric winding around his arms, legs, face, and torso, and a golden moon on his chest. He slotted his sword, which followed a large curve, into a sheath on his back. She eyed him warily, unsure of his next move.
“Who are you?”
He sounded familiar, but also extremely surprised. Willow kept trying to calm down the kid, patting her on the back while she continued to cry. It was hard for her to stop her own tears from falling, mostly due to the shock, but she managed, for the sake of this kid.
“Does it matter? You just killed someone!”
Her attempt at sounding brave and unbothered fell completely flat based on the quake in her voice and the amused tilt of the man’s head.
“He got what he deserved. Now who are you?”
“No one important.”
The girl was starting to calm down a bit, her sobs quieting down, she looked up at the man in white, who looked down at her. Willow was surprised when he also got on her level, kneeling in front of the pair,
“Do you know where your mom is?” his tone was less intimidating when he spoke to her,
And now she was crying again.
“No!”
The man huffed out a quiet laugh, holding his arms out,
“Do you want me to help you find her?”
She was quick to let go of Willow’s sweater and latch on to him instead. Willow stood up, watching silently as he asked to pick her up. She accepted, and within a few seconds she had her arms around his neck, with her head on his shoulder. With a shaky voice, she offered assistance. Who knows if this guy had good intentions right now, not that she’d be able to do much against him, if his sword and the bile rising in her throat was any indication.
“Can I help too?”
He sighed, thinking it over. A small gust of wind appeared suddenly, causing her to look around in surprise. There was a large falcon perched on a street sign staring at her now, but other than that, there was nothing out of the ordinary.
“You can help, just don’t get in my way.”
They walked around that spot for a few minutes, keeping an eye out for a worried parent. The kid had fallen asleep in the man's arms pretty much as soon as he’d picked her up, so the remaining two were left in an awkward silence.
“So what's your name?”
“None of your business.”
“Not your actual name, dumbass, I mean your alias, if you have one.”
He thought for a second,
“Moon Knight.” He paused, glancing down at Willow, “Do you have one? I’m guessing you’re also one of the vigilante-types. They’re popping up everywhere these days.”
“Some guy in the New York Bulletin called me the grim reaper the other day, but I’m not a huge fan, so just call me whatever.”
“Okay, whatever. The Grim Reaper’s a cool name, I know a few people who’d love it.”
“Yeah but I don’t. I’m not a murderer, believe it or not.”
“I wouldn’t say he’s a murderer, he just… guides people to another place.”
“The public would disagree, unfortunately. They hear the word ‘mutant’ and automatically think you’re a bloodthirsty monster.”
He didn’t remark on that last part, instead continuing to look for the girl’s mother. The trio rounded a corner and came face-to-face with a middle aged woman, peeking into alleyways and under cars, quietly calling out a name. She looked exactly like the kid in the man’s arms.
“Ma’am?”
Her head snapped up, and a look of relief washed over her face as she ran over,
“Sarah! Oh my god I was so worried.”
She took the kid into her arms, which woke her up. The pair had a reasonably cheerful reunion, all things considered. Willow and ‘moon knight’ stood there awkwardly. The older woman, who introduced herself as Francine, thanked them both profusely for finding her daughter before crossing the street to re-enter her apartment, leaving them alone. The man was the one to break the silence,
“How old are you?”
“Oh my god not this again.”
“What?”
“Nothing! I’m uh- I’m gonna go, it was, uh, it was nice meeting you, i think?”
“Your voice is all shaky, you sure you’re okay?”
“Mhm. I’m fine, just uh, you killed someone? Like right in front of me? It’s just- fuck.”
Her words were getting faster, and to her the air seemed thinner, like she couldn’t get enough in. It was a familiar feeling, so she tried to steel herself before it could get any worse,
I am not having a panic attack in front of this guy, absolutely not, no, go away, I just need to go home.
“Kid?”
He was stepping closer, but she held an arm out to keep him at a small distance, clearing her throat and wiping at her eyes in case there were tears, which didn’t do much because of her mask. He stopped to give her space, clearly recognising what was happening, but still hovered close by.
“I have to go.”
“I really don’t think you should be going anywhere like this, especially alone.”
“Don’t care, I’m going.”
She started to walk, and he was quick to follow, watching her closely.
“At least let me walk you some of the way, do you live in Midtown?”
“No.”
He looked in the direction she was walking,
“Hell’s Kitchen?”
Willow stopped, sighing, she wasn’t going to calm down anytime soon, all she could think of when she looked at him was the corpse of the kidnapper, and the way the light left his eyes; but she had to look at least semi-calm in front of this guy, even though he made her feel sick.
“Yeah, you don’t have to walk with me.”
She kept walking, not bothering to look back. He said a quiet goodbye but remained in place, watching on in concern when she switched her pace to a jog.
It took her at least half an hour, but she finally got back to Matt’s apartment. She expected to find him asleep, but no, he was sitting at the table waiting for her, suit nowhere to be found.
“Do you know what time it is?”
“Uh,”
She checked her watch. Her hands were still shaking, making it hard to see the hands, but she managed to make out the time, and realized it was a lot later than she thought.
“3:13?”
“Yeah. What took you so long? You’re normally back by 1.”
She was still feeling nauseous, the image of the man’s blood making it worsen by the second, so she started walking to the bathroom, talking as she went,
“I went to Midtown.”
Matt sputtered,
“Midtown? Why?”
“I just wanted to, I don’t know. Did you know they have vigilantes there too?”
“I’m not exactly surprised.”
He sighed, standing up and walking over to where she was currently crouched in front of the toilet bowl,
“You okay?”
“Just, um, saw something, when I was in Midtown.”
Matt pulled her mask off of her face and held her hair back when she finally threw up. He only spoke after she’d rinsed her mouth at the sink.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Just want to sleep.”
“Alright, come on.”
He walked her back to her room, making sure she was at least partially okay before walking out.
“I probably won’t be here when you wake up, I’m meeting Foggy.”
“Okay.”
“Just call if you need anything.”
He slid the door shut, and Willow could hear him get into his own bed. She sighed, getting out of her suit and going to bed, trying not to think about the attempted kidnapper.
I’ll just count… dogs? Or is it sheep? Think about anything but him.
It didn’t work.