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Foggy has always been good at reading Matt’s little tells and associating them with particular circumstances even if he hadn’t understood at first where they came from.
Of course, now that he was aware of Matt’s abilities, putting the puzzle pieces together became easier if not downright satisfactory.
He remembered when - during their collage days his friend would sometimes scrunch his nose at seemingly good produce, which he swore should land in the trash.
‘Matt, my friend, my buddy, sugar, as a matter of fact, does not go bad’
‘It hasn’t expired, Foggy. It just tastes like no sugar should,’ he said pushing the sugar bowl further away with a look of pointed disapproval when Foggy stuck his finger into it and licked the small crystals off.
‘Tastes like sweet diabetes to me’ he commented, which got a quiet huff out of Matt and shrug his shoulders. ‘I am shrugging at you.’
Silence fell over them and they had a little staring match, where Matt gave the vague space next to Foggy’s head a narrow glare.
‘I am chucking it out.’
‘No- ‘but Matt has already grabbed the aluminum, cheap sugar bowl and moved towards their kitchen space. Foggy managed to stop him from opening the cabinet under the sink with his knee, so he unceremoniously dumped the sweetener into the sink.
His friend let out a quiet groan, it was good sugar wasted, but soon it changed to a strong ‘eeew’.
‘What? What is it?’ Matt asked, turning his head curiously at Foggy.
‘You know what man? I am never doubting you again.’ Matt laughed and turned on the tap to dissolve the sugar.
‘You’ve still gotta tell me what made you change your mind so quickly.’
‘There was a dead bug in there. I didn’t notice it when I refilled the bowl’
‘Oh.’
‘Oh.’
(They threw out the entire, newly-bought, barely-opened bag)
‘Matt?’
‘Yeah?’
‘The bug’s still in the sink.’
‘…Down the drain it goes?’
‘Absolutely.’
Matt was always a little weird about food and whenever they went out for dinner whether into a shabby Chinese place, got take out or wanted to celebrate a success at work with Karen, Matt would always order the best dishes available. He just always knew what would taste best. To the point where Foggy and Karen would ask him for advice.
Foggy still wasn’t sure how he did that, though.
His friend would react badly to all sorts of noises like squeaky doors, inconsistent tapping, even his braille printer on really bad days and Foggy quickly learned to listen to his music through headphones when he found his portable speaker in their dorm freezer.
What struck Foggy as odd, however, and he still didn’t understand it, even with Matt’s secret out in the open was his fixation with textures, while going around hitting people and getting hit in return.
He had seen Matt walk into doors, drunk and swaying, there was this one time when he got hit by a bicycle, slipped in the shower, cut his fingers and even got trashed by some assholes on campus once. He just shrugged it off, not even a wince and moved on with his day.
Not to mention the entire Daredevil-thingy.
At the same time, Matt had satin sheets, Egyptian cotton shirts, because that’s apparently a thing, fluffy towels, quality leather couches and it wasn’t until Foggy met Matt did he learn that apparently rewashed socks could not be stiff. Hell, even the paint on the walls in Matt’s apartment felt somewhat smoother.
The idea stuck in Foggy’s head for a while now but he never got around to asking about it, enjoying their rekindled friendship and, admittedly, having fun at Nelson, Murdock and Page, even if it often got exhausting.
The matter came up during a lovely May afternoon when they went out with Karen, this time not to celebrate a solved case but Karen’s birthday.
She decided to splurge a bit and invited them to a fancy restaurant where, as per opinion of the internet, the food quality was really high.
As they took their seats in the dimly lit room, Karen excitedly rubbed her hands together.
‘It’s time you give them your sniff test, Murdock’ she said, the waiter politely ignoring the statement and handing out their menus, apologizing for not having one in braille. ‘Then you can tell us what to order.’
‘It’s no problem, thank you’ Matt replied and as the waiter moved away, hissed ‘I am not giving them a sniff test, Ms. Page.’
Foggy and Karen giggled, before she laid out her ultimate trump card.
‘It’s my birthday today and just so you know, I am throwing you a very, very stern look.’
Matt chuckled at that, ducking his head slightly but conceded. He moved his chin up slightly and focused on the door which, Karen and Foggy assumed, led to the kitchen. He zeroed in on a dish another waiter was bringing to a different table, before turning to stare straight at Karen, sucking in air loudly through his nose.
They laughed at his theatrics and Karen, being the brilliant PI she was, asked:
‘Well then, what’s your diagnosis?’
‘You will live’ he joked but when Foggy reminded him who the sensitive one in their trio was, Matt explained further. ‘I am impressed, really. The food quality is good, all the waiters have clean hands, the floors aren’t dusty, the oil they use here is changed regularly and the cooks even wear silicon gloves, also changed regularly.’
‘Wait, I though all cooks had to wear gloves?’ Foggy interrupted but quickly got his answer as Matt smirked.
‘Oh, you sweet, sweet, innocent child.’
They wouldn’t be themselves if they didn’t hit Josie’s to stretch their fun night further. Karen could certainly hold her alcohol, contrary to Matt who hit his spins rather quickly.
Although, Matt’s world wasn’t the only one swaying dangerously tonight. It wasn’t until Karen started calling Josie her ‘beautiful star in the abyss of darkness’ as she poured her another drink, that they decided to go back.
"Going" back turned out to be near impossible, however, because Foggy and Karen swore the sidewalk was doing weird dances, so they hailed an unfortunate cab.
They squeezed into the backseat, squashing Matt in the middle. Karen’s place was the closest, so they decided to drop her off first. After forming an awkward group hug, where Foggy’s elbow was digging into Karen’s ribs, who in turn hit Matt’s chin with her forehead, who managed to accidentally hit Foggy with his shoulder, they bid each other good night.
Undoubtedly, their driver got a crash course through all five stages of grief.
‘Matt, Matty, I’mma just crash a’ yours, mkay?’ slurred Foggy as they moved once again.
Matt replied with a ‘sure’ stretching the ‘u’ for far longer than necessary. As they neared his apartment, Foggy risk a glance at the meter, searching through his pockets, swearing when he only found a napkin.
‘Whassup?’ asked Matt, who noticed his distress.
‘I gave Karen m’wallet. Didn’t wanna lose it…’ it wasn’t all that noticeable but Foggy’s Irish linage showed slightly when he was drunk and no, Matt did not find that absolutely adorable.
‘Is okay. I’ll pay.’
Another quirk of Matt’s was his dislike for paying with his card. Of course, he had one but at the beginning of each month or whenever he needed to, he would visit the ATM.
‘In that way I keep better track of my expenses’ he answered, when Foggy voiced this particular question. ‘I can touch the money I am spending.’
Problem was-
‘Uh, Foggy?’ Matt let out in a slightly, only slightly, worried tone. ‘You said it would be twelve bucks?’
‘Yeah, we’re almost there, buddy’ Foggy sighed, happy at the perspective of sinking into Matt’s comfortable sofa.
‘I’ve only got ten’ Matt said quietly, so as not to alert their driver.
‘Oh, shit…we playin’ the blind card?’ The blind card stems from their collage days and it is not something Matt is proud of but oh well. He gets paid in chickens after all.
‘We playin’ the blind card’ he resigned and moved so that Foggy’s head could rest against his shoulder, pretending to fall asleep.
Soon enough they pulled over near Matt’s home.
‘That’s eleven bucks and a bit. Think we can make it twelve, mate?’
‘Sure, man. You hassled our disastrous asses here, didn’t you?’ he joked, his mind becoming slightly clearer and not for the first time in his life did Matt thank Stick for teaching him how to breathe.
He handed the two five-dollar notes with a twinge of regret.
‘Hey, uh, man? That’s only ten.’ Matt frowned.
‘What? No, that should be fifteen? It’s the change I got from the bar.’ He even sounded pretty convincing. Their driver sighed and muttered something along the lines of ‘well, he is blind’, which Matt was pretty sure he wasn’t meant to catch.
‘Someone did you bad, mate. It’s ten dollars.’
‘Oh, sorry, I could, uh, I could go grab some more from my apartment? We were pretty awful rides…’
'You don't have a card on you?'
'I usually don't take it with me - it's easy for me to get pickpocketed.' At least that part was true.
He felt the driver move to regard him fully, giving him and Foggy an exasperated look, which Matt shouldn’t know about.
‘In your state? nah. You would trip yourself to a broken neck coming down. Just- ‘he rubbed his eyes ‘make sure to leave a good review?’
Matt flashed him a smile and changed his hold on Foggy.
‘You got it, man!’ he said, swiftly opened the door, snapped his cane open, heaved his friend out and carried his sleep beauty, only missing his step once. ‘He turned ‘round the corner.’
‘And here I am resurrected!’ Foggy said standing up ‘I actually fell asleep there for a moment. A quick nap did me good, my knees feel like a slightly more set jelly now.’
Matt let out a tired laugh but dutifully opened the door, deciding to leave the comment that he could feel Foggy’s heartbeat slowing down in the cab, to himself. He noticed that Foggy’s hand still lay on his shoulder, where he rested it to keep Foggy upright.
‘What time is it?’ he asked instead of allowing that warm, fuzzy feeling in his gut to grow, blessed with the knowledge that the next day was Saturday.
‘About, uh shit, man these clock hands are way to tiny. I need to see your microwave clock…it’s past three in the morning.’
They exchanged looks as well as they could.
‘I’ve got an idea’ Matt offered and they simultaneously moved towards the coffee machine.
They ended up on Matt’s couch, their legs tangled together, while they hogged their righteous parts of the sofa.
Foggy took a sip from his cup and sighed contentedly.
‘If it weren’t so damn expensive, I would buy it myself’ to which Matt replied by bringing his own mug to his lips. ‘Pass me the blanket?’
Matt didn’t have to pretend not to know where said blanket was anymore, so after putting down his coffee on the table, he grabbed the material and covered them both.
Foggy let out a happy ‘ah’ and rubbed his feet together, bringing up the blanket to his face.
‘I love how all of your stuff is so nice and soft. What’s this made of?’
‘Cashmere and bamboo, I think? I don’t like faux fur, even though it’s soft because it tends to keep in heat and I get sweaty quickly.’ He answered and let his head fall into the comfy pillow behind him. His eyebrows drew together slightly as he heard Foggy inhale, like he always did when he wanted to ask something important.
‘Hey, Matty?’ he asked quietly and it squeezed at Matt’s heart. ‘I have been wondering about something?’ It came out more as a question than he intended but it was a start.
‘Okay?’ he inquired, keeping his voice soft but cautious, as Foggy’s heartbeat stuttered nervously. And not in the anxious way Matt wished it to.
‘I know we talked a lot about honesty and I would really like for you to be honest here but…’ he hesitated ‘if I am right, and trust me I don’t want to be proven right, right now. That’s too many “rights” in one sentence, sorry.’
Foggy chuckled as he swirled his cup.
‘But I may be touching on a sensitive topic here, so if you don’t want to talk about it today, I will understand. Nonetheless, I think it’s something we should talk about, sooner or later.’
Matt went for a defense tactic and gave Foggy a lopsided grin.
‘You are scaring me a little, Foggy. Are you proposing to me right now?’
Foggy huffed and moved to kick Matt in his thigh but missed, and aimed at his gut, which rewarded him with a soft ‘oof’.
‘Huh, my heel actually sunk in a little’ it was a loose, unguarded comment, which got a laugh out of his partner.
‘It’s not like I flex my muscles all the time, plus I am lying down awkwardly at the moment’ he chuckled ‘I am kinda glad you didn’t aim lower, though.’
‘Wouldn’t want my foot in your balls, now, would we?’
‘Your foot? No, not really’ It was a semi-decent, thin-iced, definitely-not-offer but Matt wore his devilish smile, so Foggy just laughed and shook his head.
‘I know what you are doing,’ oh, no, he didn’t, thought Matt ‘but let’s backtrack a little and let me finish digging my own grave.’
Perhaps it was the sincerity in his voice or maybe he just knew Foggy well enough by then that he realized, he wasn’t about to be attacked about his poor life choices and his friend was speaking merely out of concern.
‘Okay. Okay, shoot. What’s this about?’ he leaned back further and focused on Foggy’s heartbeat. It was much nicer than the hum of the billboard outside.
‘It’s about your super soft blankets and how your bathroom rug feels like clouds under my feet, how you buy illegal amounts of fabric softener or how there are no crumbs on your kitchen counter.’ Foggy explained, counting each example on his fingers.
‘Uh, you know I have a more…delicate sense of touch, don’t you?’ he moved his head to the side a little. Matt was pretty sure they have had talked about it already, during one of their many late-night conversations involving Daredevil.
‘Of course, I do! I remember you stuffing our dorm-issued sheets as far as the closet would allow you to, after pointedly buying your own. You said it felt like lying on bark.’
‘It did.’ Matt smiled crookedly.
‘Exactly! And yet I saw you slam your forehead when we got into the cab, which, yeah, was funny as hell, sorry, but you didn’t even wince! But at the same time your suit is padded with something fleeceish; I know, I touched it. All I am saying is that I can’t get two and two to equal four here, buddy.’ He finished his monologue by raising his eyebrows, giving Matt his you’ve got some explaining to do look.
But Matt actually froze for a moment, a quizzical expression guesting on his face. He hesitated before-
‘That’s something I haven’t paid attention to before, actually” he offered. Matt did that cute head tilt he always did when he was thinking intently about something.
‘Wow. Okay?’ Foggy gave back a jerky nod and Matt was relieved to hear interest in his voice rather than disbelief. ‘You wanna elaborate on that?’
‘There is not much to elaborate on, really,’ he huffed ‘I guess it’s something I’ve just grown used to.’
‘Violence isn’t something you just grow used to, Matty. Or bruises. Or broken bones. Or near-death experiences! And don’t even get me started on the number of split lips and bloody noses you seem to sport each week. I know we are past that but I still worry sometimes!’ Foggy exclaimed, his tone seeping in more emotions than he indented.
‘Yeah, well,’ Matt scoffed ‘you didn’t grow up with Stick.’
There seemed to be a sort of finality mixed in but Foggy wasn’t stupid enough not to know it was just the beginning, just a scar of a much, much deeper wound.
‘What do you mean?’ he pushed, mindful to step down a bit and keep his voice gentle. Matt regarded him for a second, before reaching towards the table and taking a sip from his lukewarm coffee.
‘Look, Foggy, Stick was kind of an asshole. He helped me when I was a kid, made me figure out what to do with all the oversensitivity I was feeling – you knew that already.’ Matt said gesturing at Foggy, who sensing dismissal put his brain to work.
‘You never told me how you learned- ‘he flopped his hand in the air ‘whatever fancy name of the martial arts you do is. I am amateur level here but what you do as Daredevil doesn’t stop on boxing.’
‘I wanted a father; Stick wanted a soldier. All there is to it.’
‘So, Stick’s the one who trained you?’ Foggy asked and feeling brave, added ‘Or beat you into it?’
Stick was still a sore subject for Matt and he was beginning to feel touchy about it but there was something else making its presence known, somewhere deep inside him. A part of his past he long ago decided to ignore for his own good. He said nothing.
‘Look, Matt…’ when Matt didn’t interrupt with his usual I can’t Foggy continued, feeling a little disappointed. ‘We’ve got two choices ahead of us. We don’t have to talk about it today but I think it will do you some good – voicing whatever’s in your head out loud. Either way, I want your full honesty, Matty.’
Matt twitched, feeling a little guilty. Although his and Foggy’s friendship was once more and he still woke up feeling like he was on cloud nine because of that, he still had some reservations about introducing Foggy to certain parts of his life. It wasn’t a matter of trust; unlike him his friend always kept his promises and never spoke insincerely but a matter of fear.
Hearing Foggy’s worried heartbeat, Matt decided to at least be truthful about that.
‘Foggy, I don’t want to talk about it’ Foggy’s disappointment felt almost tangible ‘but not because I don’t trust you, Foggy – I trust you with all I have. I just…I feel scared talking about it.’ He finished lamely and squared his shoulders bracingly. Foggy’s heart skipped a beat.
‘It’s okay, Matty’ he said, looping his ankle around Matt’s to offer some comfort ‘I think that tells me everything I should know.’
And Matt thanked God, because Foggy was brilliant.
They had an emotional conversation about heartbeats and enhanced senses once. All three of them – Matt, Foggy and Karen.
They sat Matt down, his bruises still fresh, his knuckles still bloody and purple after smashing into Fisk repeatably. He remembered being exhausted and emotionally drained. Angry.
But looking back at it now, Matt realized that without that conversation, where his friends pushed and persevered – convinced him to be goddamn honest for once- their friendship would remain unstable and fragile, leaving them unhappy and frustrated.
‘Matt, uh, Foggy and I, we wanted to talk’ Karen did her little anxiety tick, where she twisted her fingers together, proving her nervousness. Talking was the last thing on Matt’s mind at the moment, the high from his fight beginning to lose its hold on him.
But without Foggy and Karen that night could have ended very differently.
‘I am all ears.’ He said instead of asking them to do it some other time.
‘We wanted to talk about your super-ninja senses’ Matt raised his eyebrow at Foggy, inviting him to continue. ‘I really enjoyed us, working together again, even if not everything moved smoothly – but does it ever, really? I know you did too!’
Matt couldn’t really deny that, so he remained silent.
‘We don’t want a repeat from earlier,’ Karen shot in ‘We want to know everything about you, Matt.’
‘Everything is a broad term, we realize. Which is why, for now, introduce us to your “world on fire”. That’s what you called it, right?’ Foggy added. Matt frowned.
‘You already told me once that you found me listening to people’s heartbeat weird and invasive’ he said, perhaps more forcefully than he should have. He felt a slight adrenalin spike from Karen but Foggy stood his ground.
‘Admittedly, I was very, very angry at the time. I was feeling betrayed and a bit jealous because I am not a walking lie-detector, which would have been really helpful back then.’
Foggy had a true gift at being right on point.
Matt stepped down a bit.
‘Okay. Okay.’ He repeated ‘What do you want me to tell you?’ Foggy and Karen exchanged glances.
‘Both of us witnessed your badass hearing but just how far does it go? Can you force yourself to stop listening to people’s hearts?’ Matt felt a bit hurt by that but Foggy continued ‘What can you smell? What can you touch?’
Matt leaned his head back, while both his friend moved closer in concentration. He could feel Karen’s intent gaze at him. He sighed.
‘I hear everything around me in a few miles’ radius; and I mean everything. I can feel the trains underneath, the electronic hum of street lamps, the row the couple down the alley is having’ Karen and Foggy simultaneously turned their heads to take a look at the two people pointing fingers aggressively at each other. Karen let out a quiet “Jesus”. ‘I can pinpoint what do you wash your clothes with or that a man living on that building’s second floor takes some intense medication. You changed your shampoo, Foggy.’
Both of them stared at him with a bit of apprehension but Matt was being this specific on purpose. He wanted this conversation to be done with, to dry out the topic.
‘I can’t “turn of” my hearing, Foggy. I know your heart stuttered just now. This is what I see, it’s a different image from yours, I am aware, but you can’t stop yourself from seeing either. Yes, you can look away or close your eyes – I don’t have that privilege. But you can’t stop hearing what I am saying, you notice the sound. You may not be listening but my voice is there. That’s the same what I am experiencing,’ he explained. ‘I learned to tune things out but it’s near impossible not to listen to your heartbeat when we are together.’
‘This is nowhere near the same!’ exclaimed Foggy ‘I can’t tell if people are lying to me by listening to their hearts! Or know if X from three stories up is being a dipshit to his wife!’
But Matt was losing his patience.
‘You can tell if someone is lying to you by their facial expression, something I can’t do! You can see the bruises of X’s wife or you can hear weird rumors moving around the block, you simply acquire that information differently! Damnit, Foggy, you can actually see people’s happiness by their body language, by how they smile, how their eyes wrinkle, whereas it’s just a combination of hormones for me. Do you realize how jealous I am of that?’ He heaved out, the words couldn’t seem to stop falling from his lips now that he got himself started.
‘It doesn’t matter if I can hear more or smell more, if the sky and starts above me feel like just a creepy, big ass, empty space or, or the storm isn’t beautiful anymore because all I can focus on is just how much people and animals are scared, how the power is buzzing, just how loud the thunder is!’
All the anger seemed to leave Foggy out at once and he let out a puffy, deflated ‘huh’ as he took a step back to give Matt some space, who suddenly seemed almost bashful. He turned his head to the side but said nothing.
‘What about your sense of touch?’ Karen inquired quietly and Matt decided to just deal the blow.
‘If I can force myself to focus really, really hard I can feel ink on paper. It’s exhausting.’
Maybe it was because Karen has known him for shorter than Foggy has or maybe because curiosity was her defining trait but after his explanation, she seemed even more interested than before and kept asking him questions. That, in combination with Matt’s answers made Foggy sort himself out and regard the matter with a fresh view.
She hugged Matt tightly and forced Foggy to join their embrace, which turned out to be exactly what they needed. Matt didn’t need his senses to know that all three of them parted ways feeling happier and with slightly wet eyes.
Nelson, Murdock & Page were on a roll, which unfortunately didn’t involve the word pay. It started off as a joke but twice already did they receive chickens as payment.
Three times if you include a difficult case on which they had to work on during Thanksgiving.
Matt wouldn’t admit it out loud but for the first time in a really, really long while he began waking up with a small smile on his face.
After the dinner they had at the Nelson’s, which Matt appreciated strongly, Karen sat both him and Foggy down for another discussion.
‘So,’ she started ‘I have been thinking.’
‘Spectacular’ said Foggy, shooting his eyebrows up in a mock expression of shock. Karen shoved his arm lightly.
‘Matt, we already spoke about your senses but there is something else I wanted to ask you about.’ She continued, turning her head to look at her friend. He nodded, trying to keep his expression open.
‘I find it irritating enough when my neighbor decides to do some renovating, I can’t imagine how overwhelming it must be for you.’ Matt once again nodded, because yes. It got tiring. ‘I want Nelson, Murdock & Page to be a comfortable space for you, Matt. I don’t want you to scrunch your nose when you walk in or sport a headache all day long. Which is why I thought-’ she shot Foggy a look ‘it would be nice if you could tell us what sorts of smells you like, which you absolutely despise, what sounds irritate you and the such…’
‘That!’ Foggy pointed his finger, moved to touch Matt on his shoulder and said ‘Is actually a brilliant idea, Karen!’ At which she beamed.
Matt gave them a shy smile and ducked his head to the side.
‘You don’t have to do that, Karen.’ He said softly ‘I am fine, really.’
‘I know I don’t have to,’ she shot him down, quickly and decisively ‘but I want to. Just tell if the cleaning products are too harsh or the chairs too squeaky. We could get soundproof windows once we have a client that actually pays. If that would help. Really, Matt, it could be anything.’
‘Anything?’ Matt inquired, feeling a little uncomfortable but willing.
‘That’s what I just said.’
‘Uh, I don’t really like your perfume, Karen.’ He said, rubbing the back of his neck. He didn’t want to cross the line here. ‘It’s sour.’
But Karen just laughed.
‘Not the biggest fan of citrus, are you?’ She asked and as he shook his head, added ‘Well, than you know what to get me for Christmas.’ And Matt’s heart soared.
(‘What about my cologne?’
‘It’s totally Matt approved, Foggy.’)
Matt lied to them. Again.
Although seeing as Foggy was currently not feeling so good, tied to a chair, split eyebrow and all, he thought he could understand Matt’s reasoning a bit.
He could hear Karen’s breath behind him, a little quicker than normal but otherwise okay. Her hair brushed the back of his neck and she tightened her fingers where they grasped his wrist.
After they had taken down Wilson Fisk, Hell’s Kitchen was gaping with an open hole just begging to be filled with another mastermind, a different organization. It caused a lot of violence on the streets and forced Daredevil to become once again more active. But Matt was being smarter about it this time round too, always informing them about his actions and occasionally asking for his and Karen’s help.
Foggy was proud, really.
Nonetheless, he could feel Matt becoming more distant the past week, he knew his friend wasn’t telling them everything but decided to leave it at first. After all, it would be Elektra’s death anniversary soon and perhaps Matt was just going over his guilt. So, when Matt hadn’t come to the office that day, leaving them a message that he was calling sick, although suspicious, Foggy didn’t make a big deal out of it.
He didn’t expect for him and Karen to be cornered after work and forcefully get dragged into a white van. It’s always the white vans, he thought bitterly. Foggy could still feel the dull throbbing in his knuckles when he moved in to punch one of their captors in the face, hitting the guy’s forehead instead. A voice interrupted his bitchy internal monologue.
‘Daredevil?’
‘The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, yes.’ Foggy uttered out before he could stop himself, which resulted with a harsh slap across his cheek.
He couldn’t help it. Karen and him were sitting back-to-back, unable to move, somewhere dark, humid and moldy, while their kidnappers barely spoke any English – he had every right to feel a little savage.
‘Who is Daredevil?’ The guy repeated, jutting his jaw out and moving closer.
‘What makes you think we know?’ hissed Karen rudely and Foggy gave her a mental thumbs up. A different guy spoke up:
‘You make deals before.’ His voice thick and throaty.
‘You should invest in some cough drops’ Foggy whispered quietly. 'And grammar lessons.' He got hit again and he was pretty sure it would leave a spectacular black eye.
‘What?’ The other guy demanded, squeezing Foggy’s jaw.
‘We don’t know! We don’t know, okay?!’ He let out a shaky breath but as he saw with the corner of his eye as the other guy took a swing at Karen, he shouted out ‘Wait!’
Their captors stilled and Karen let out a barely-there whimper but didn’t make another sound.
‘You should check out Ben Poindexter,’ he said, his mind reeling fast. ‘He hit the headlines once!’
He would have bullshitted more if at that exact moment all the lights weren’t turned off. Foggy heard some commands spoken in a weird language, before a dull thunk shot through the air, followed by something fleshy hitting the ground. And another, and another. He heard panting and footsteps - the unmistakable sound of knuckles against meat ringing through the air. There was a grunt uncomfortably close to his ear and someone crashed into them, making Karen and him fall.
‘Oh, for fucks- ‘Karen huffed. The guy squashing them got lifted and, if Foggy guessed correctly, thrown across the room where he landed with a resounding crack. The silence was oddly nice after that.
He felt Matt tugging at their ropes and barely had time to do much else when he got pulled into a one arm hug, Karen warm at his side.
‘Oh, Matt,’ she let out.
‘Brett’s gonna be here soon.’ Daredevil’s tone was rough. ‘I will explain everything, I promise. My apartment.’
Foggy only nodded. He had oh-so-much to say and he could hardly wait to deliver Matt the slam he deserved but his legs felt more like pudding than anything else at the moment.
Brett did come just a few minutes later in all of his red-blue police glory. They moved in with flashlights and only after turning the power back on did Karen and Foggy see the full extent of Matt’s rage.
It all sounds the same when you are staring at pitch black and apparently reinforcements managed to find their way in but Daredevil swept the floor with them too, leaving blood trails and teeth.
‘Why is it that when Daredevil is involved, it’s always you two?’ Brett pinched his tired eyes, looking like a proper detective. ‘You incredible, incredible pain in my ass.’
‘Bad luck is a character trait, Mahoney.’ Foggy answered, ready to get the hell out of there at top speed. Karen was getting herself patched up – some jackass slashed her forearm and Foggy understood Matt’s desire to hit people for a second there. The cooling pack he was icing his bruising eye with has already started to sweat and leaved cold trails down his cheek and neck.
‘It’s too damn late for you to be smart with me, Nelson. I would like to see what you would do, had Daredevil caught you in your PJs.’
Oh my God, he was so getting this story out of Matt.
After they had signed their reports, had stitched and nursed everything that had to be stitched and nursed, they were let go with a strict order to head straight to bed and take a day off.
Ignoring that advice completely, Karen and Foggy moved their footsteps towards Matt’s apartment, gathering some weird glances on the subway. And as Foggy stared at his window reflection, he completely understood why.
They didn’t bother to talk, both of them seething and processing the entire ordeal quietly, just like they didn’t bother to knock and let themselves in, using Foggy’s spare key.
Matt was already there, oh yes, he was, but Foggy could feel the air suddenly leave him like a popped balloon. Karen swayed dangerously at his side and he moved to steady her.
Their friend had his shirt of and looked like a crude patchwork of rainbow. He was stitching a gash at his side when they came in, so he only lifted his head and greeted them with a tense nod. The side of his face was bloody, not unlike the time Foggy found his friend shot in the head.
Foggy found the three steaming cups on the coffee table absolutely ridiculous.
After the initial shock which always accompanied them when Matt got hurt, Karen and him sunk into the couch, staring at Matt intendedly. He sighed deeply and pulled out a fresh gauze before turning towards them.
‘It wasn’t Daredevil,’ he started, knowing exactly what they came for ‘but Matt Murdock.’
It caused Karen to tighten her eyebrows, regarding him quizzically.
‘What do you mean?’ She asked.
‘I got threatened. But not as Daredevil; as Matt Murdock, the attorney. Someone, the Italians as I later found out, send me a letter in braille where it stated that if, quote, my blind, prissy ass cared about you two I would lay off of the Marino case. The one I took on my own.’
‘Please tell me you didn’t.’ Foggy groaned as he started to see the bigger picture. And stealed a glance at Matt’s torso.
‘Of course, I didn’t, we got open threats like that before. But the letters just kept coming in. They described what they would do to you, that they had bugs planted in our office – they did.’ Matt explained ‘But I was performing as only a blind lawyer and couldn’t out myself as Daredevil – and I am really, really glad we promised not to voice his name or indicate that I was the vigilante while we are in the office. That saved my identity.’
Karen straightened at that; it was her idea after all.
‘They were watching your apartments at night, mine too, so I was a little unavailable as Daredevil. I managed to catch them of guard yesterday and move. I searched the city and made sure that you were safe. The Italians were good at keeping things quiet, they were just outside of Hell’s Kitchen, smuggling weapons and children. I am surprised I haven’t heard of them before – their network spread fairly wide.’
Matt reached for his cup, the coffee there now at a more tongue-friendly temperature. Foggy sucked in some much-needed air and asked:
‘What happened to them?’
It was then that he noticed a slight change in Matt’s demeanor – the devilish side of him which rarely seeped through in his and Karen’s presence.
‘Obliterated.’
It meant that they wouldn’t be much trouble now and that Brett was going to work overtime but it still didn’t explain why Foggy and Karen had been kidnapped.
‘I was feeling a little off,’ Matt answered their questions ‘so I came straight back here instead of the office – it was late anyways and I had to patch up. A police car drove close by and I heard through the radio that there was a commotion near our office. I started hearing for your heartbeats but they were far away and beating too erratically. So, I followed.’
He finished. They could hear sincerity in his voice, his face open and understanding to their hurt and needs, so they responded in kind. It was hard not to, given the nature of his lie and that he did it only to protect them.
‘Thank you for your honesty, Matt’ said Foggy, moving for his coffee, Karen mirroring him. ‘But who decided to take me and Karen? It was like a bad, slightly reviewed repeat of Midland Circle.’
‘Midland Circle, my ass.’ Karen bit out, her anger directed at the universe. ‘More like Midlife Crisis.’
It got a laugh out of him and Matt, who smiled in that nerdy way of his.
‘Ah,’ Matt huffed out and tilted his head back ‘some backstreet thug wannabes, who thought they would take their shot at Daredevil.’
(Foggy and Karen were invited to stay the night. They did.)
Their interactions were becoming smoother and more natural than ever before. Nelson, Murdock & Page were becoming more and more recognizable – they could afford a new coffee machine that even Karen didn't mess up, now! They got a new sign too, hanging the old one on a wall as a memento to their origins.
For Foggy’s birthday in July, they got him a joint present – one of these fancy fans, which can replace the AC without sounding like a helicopter. He was delighted. For Christmas, apart from individual gifts, all three of them invested in a fridge that wasn’t being moody.
Matt appreciated all these big changes but what made his heart tighten were the smallest of gestures which Foggy and Karen just seemed to offer so naturally.
They throw out the trash more often now, making sure to buy smaller garbage bags as well, they openly talk about his senses, avoiding anything he might dislike. Sometimes, when there are no clients, Matt would close the doors to his office and put on the noise-cancelling headphones Foggy had gotten him as a gift. They were small comfort but Matt still found them helpful when he was having an overwhelming headache. Karen and Foggy wouldn’t bother him then, until he came out by himself or something especially urgent came up.
They would lead him because, they learned, it made his mind easy and Matt could allow himself to relax a little. They kept a fully stored first aid kit, or two, in their office. In August, their plumbing broke, drenching their workspace in this god-awful, nasty smell that lingered for weeks. When his friends gave him a swimming nose clip, Matt almost cried.