The last person I threw a punch at was Peter. The circumstances were remarkably different, though the incident sticks out in my mind as peculiar even weeks after the fact. It had been the heat, surely, everything's been fine since, and yet... I shake my head, pushing away the thought.

"You're not afraid you'll hurt me?" I ask, sarcasm all but dripping by the end of my sentence. I've gotten the sense that most of the guys from back home have written me off here (at least the ones who believed I was Daredevil in the first place). For the number of heroes walking around, I just don't run into any of them all that often.