A Cheerful Giver
Part 8
At work the next morning, Karen jumped up with her arms outstretched as soon as Foggy opened the door.
“Foggy! We were so worried!” She came around the desk and hugged him hard, and Foggy tried not to wince at the pressure on his breastbone. “Are you all right?”
“I’m, uh, getting better,” he said.
“I came to see you in the hospital yesterday morning, but you were asleep. I met your parents, they were really nice,” she said, finally letting go. “They said somebody found you on the street and called an ambulance, but what happened?”
“Would you believe my long-dead cousin showed up and pulled me into an alternate universe?” Foggy asked. Karen gave him a skeptical look, but he went on. “Because that’s exactly what happened. Just like on Fringe. Did you ever watch Fringe, Karen?”
“Of course I watched Fringe! I mean, Joshua Jackson, Foggy! I had such a crush on him when I was younger.” Then Karen’s enthusiasm faded a little. “But that was a TV show, not real life.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too. But I had this cousin who died about three years ago from a brain aneurysm. When he showed up, I thought I’d got him mixed up with another cousin, but I hadn’t. He was from this alternate universe. He took me over there, and they had a vigilante there, too. They called him Black Devil, and they wanted me to heal him. Except I didn’t realize that they were torturing him, and they wanted to use me to keep things going.”
Karen’s mouth hung open. “Foggy, that’s terrible!”
“I know! And I couldn’t get out until I’d given the healing gift to my cousin. He was pointing a gun at me, he would have shot me! As it was, he just left me there in the street to sleep it off, and I guess that’s when they found me and took me to the hospital.” Foggy expected Karen to have some questions, but the one she asked left him surprised.
“So you just left him there? Black Devil?”
Foggy remembered Karen’s adoration of their universe’s Daredevil. “Yeah, but … the last time I healed him, I managed to slip him a tiny little razorblade from a pocket pencil sharpener that I found. I don’t know if he got away, or killed himself, or what, but it was the only thing I could do to help him. And before you ask, no, I couldn’t use the healing gift to stop his heart or anything like that. I mean, it was a healing gift! I’m not Darth Vader, using the Force to choke people to death.”
“Oh.” Karen sighed a little in relief. “Okay. Sorry, I didn’t mean –“
“Yeah, well, if you sprain your ankle again, you’re shit outta luck. But on the bright side, at least I won’t be falling asleep in the office anymore.”
“I guess that’s the bright side,” Karen said. “But your snoring was kinda funny.”
Foggy smiled with her. “That’s how I got my name. My parents said I snored like a foghorn. I’m sure Matt almost killed me, our first week together.”
There was a little bang at the door and Matt came in, asking, “Are you telling Karen the foghorn story?”
“Yup,” Foggy said. He saw that Matt was holding a white paper bag in one hand.
“And Foggy was just saying that he wouldn’t fall asleep in the office anymore,” Karen repeated.
“Yeah, no more healing gift, no more need for R&R,” Foggy said. A little more sadly, he added, “And no more Murdockmeter to tell me if you tripped while taking out the trash, or hit yourself in the face with your cane.”
“Murdockmeter?” Karen asked.
“Yeah, that’s what I called it when I could sense that someone was hurt,” Foggy explained.
“I think you also called it the feel for heal,” Matt remembered, and Karen laughed aloud.
“Hey, with great power comes great responsibility to find a cool name for it,” Foggy protested, and Karen laughed again.
“Well, whatever you called it, you won’t need it to-day,” Matt said. “Because I made it all the way here without injury.”
“That’s great!” Foggy exclaimed. He’d already been eyeing Matt up and down, checking for signs of fresh bruises or lacerations, but there were none.
“But I wanted to say I’m sorry,” Matt said. “Because you lost the gift, I mean. So I bought you a little piece of cheesecake. You like white chocolate raspberry, right? Can I give it to you, or should I put it in the fridge?”
Foggy realized that Matt had been standing there practically motionless all the time they were speaking. He hadn’t let go of his cane, nor had he taken off his coat, and he certainly hadn’t made any move to extend the white paper bag to Foggy. Instead, Matt was asking, or perhaps warning him, as though he were afraid that any movement on his part would startle Foggy into a reaction. A wave of shame washed over Foggy as he realized that Matt had really bought the cheesecake to say sorry for triggering him the night before. It took an effort for him to reach out anyway.
“Here, give it to me, I’ll put it in the fridge while you get your coat off,” Foggy said, and watched as Matt carefully handed him the bag. Everything went smoothly, no reason to freak out. To cover his embarrassment, he said, “You know I love white chocolate raspberry, but don’t think you have to buy it for me every day.”
“Just this once,” Matt said, and looked as relieved as Foggy felt when the exchange passed without incident.
But by the end of the day, Foggy had noticed a difference in the way Matt acted around him, in the way he hesitated to get too close, to reach out without announcing his actions, even to speak without thinking it over first. And once Foggy had noticed it, he couldn’t stop seeing it, and it rapidly became annoying. Finally, after Karen had gone home, and Matt was approaching the door of his office with exaggerated care one too many times, Foggy cracked.
“Matt, stop that!” he snapped, and when Matt froze in confusion, he went on. “Yeah, that! Stop treating me like I’m some kind of unexploded bomb that’s going to go off if you get too close!”
“I just don’t want to scare you, Foggy,” Matt replied slowly.
“I know! I get that! But this is just as bad! Remember how you told me once you hated it when people danced around you like you were made of glass? You’re doing the same to me right now!”
“I am?” Matt asked, then his shoulders slumped slightly. “Yeah, I guess I am. I’m sorry, Foggy. I should have realized.”
“Hey, buddy, don’t beat yourself up over it, just stop,” Foggy told him, standing up and coming around the side of his desk. “Now get over here and give me a fist bump, man.”
Matt grinned, took the three steps necessary to reach Foggy, and put his fist out horizontally. Foggy bumped it, pleased with his lack of reaction, but then, he’d seen it coming. Still, he told himself, it was a step in the right direction.
“My dad always used to say, it’s not how you hit the mat, it’s how you get up,” Matt said.
“Seriously?” Foggy asked. “And then he names you Matt?”
He gave Matt’s shoulder a mock blow, and Matt groaned. “Don’t think I haven’t heard all those jokes before.”
“Yeah, sorry.” But he wasn’t, really, and he knew that Matt knew it. “Go on, you were saying?”
“I’m just glad you’re doing your best to get back up.”
Foggy smiled, but then Matt extended his hand for a mock blow of his own, and Foggy jumped back, his heart suddenly racing. “Don’t!”
After several deep breaths, when he’d recovered somewhat, Foggy turned and slammed both fists down onto his desk. “Shit! Shit-shit-shit!”
“I’m sorry,” Matt said.
“Do that again,” Foggy snarled.
“I’m sorry?” Matt was obviously not sure what he meant.
“No, do the arm thing again. Do it again and again and again until I don’t react any more!”
“I don’t think that’s the way to get over it,” Matt said. “And anyway, you’ll be expecting it now.”
Foggy went back to his chair and slumped down in it as much as his injury would let him. “Shit. You’re right. I hate this.”
“Do you … want me to rub your shoulders?” Matt offered hesitantly.
“Why?” Foggy asked, instantly suspicious despite the tempting offer.
“I was thinking that maybe I could, um, show you that you can associate me with good things, too? Not just scaring you,” Matt explained. Ah, so that was his reasoning behind the cheesecake. It hadn’t merely been an apology.
“So every time you startle me, you wanna show me a good time?” Foggy teased, just to see Matt’s reaction.
“That’s one way of putting it,” Matt teased back. “I know you like back rubs and stuff, so I could offer to do something nice like that every time it happens.”
“Well, it sounds better than you tiptoeing around, scared that I’ll see your shadow and freak out,” Foggy decided. “Sure, Matt. Come here and give me a good ol’ Murdock Massage.”
Smiling, Matt came around to stand behind Foggy’s chair and began to rub his shoulders, softly at first, then slightly harder. It felt good, and Foggy was starting to relax when Matt asked him to lean forward.
“Ow, shit,” Foggy said. “Sorry. I moved wrong.”
“Your sternum still bothering you?”
“Yeah. I guess I got used to the healing gift pretty quickly, the way it speeded up my own healing, I mean. Never mind, it’s not your fault. You can give me another shoulder rub to-morrow. As part two of this one, I mean. And a new one if you startle me again. And cheesecake. Because I am totally going to take advantage of you now.”
Matt laughed a little. “Okay, Foggy. But for now, why don’t you go home? You’re way too tense, you should relax and get some sleep.”
“And so should you,” Foggy shot back. He turned in the chair, then stood up.
“I will,” Matt said. “I promised. Come on, get your coat, I’ll walk you home.”
Foggy frowned at the hint of overprotectiveness. “Maybe I want to walk you home,” he said, emphasizing the pronouns, and Matt laughed again.
“You’re the one who got kidnapped, Foggy,” he said.
“And I just spent the weekend watching somebody who looked exactly like you get tortured,” Foggy reminded him. “So if we want to watch out for each other and keep each other safe, we’ll just have to live here at the office, and be together at all times if we ever go out. We’d have to shop together, get coffee and bagels together, go Daredeviling together …”
Matt’s expression was a mix of amusement and sheer horror, which made Foggy smile. “That’d put a cramp in your style, wouldn’t it?” he went on. “Having me tag along when you’re out being a vigilante?”
“You wouldn’t be able to keep up,” Matt said.
“Nope,” Foggy agreed. “I’d just be a liability. A ball and chain around your ankle, holding you back.”
And then Matt did smile. “I didn’t say that. I’d never say that about you.”
“But it would be true. And I’d probably end up having more panic attacks because of it. Watching you get your ass kicked every night, not to mention what might happen if the bad guys saw me and decided to attack your weak spot. So it’s a dumb idea. Almost as dumb as wanting to walk me home to keep me safe, and then leaving me there alone. Almost as dumb as me wanting to walk you home to keep you safe, and then leaving you there alone.”
“I promised you I wouldn’t go out to-night,” Matt said. “I will keep that promise.”
“I know. I appreciate it, but it was stupid of me to ask. Because what about to-morrow night?” Foggy asked. That was something he’d been thinking about a lot. “I know you’ll be putting on that suit and jumping off your roof as soon as it’s dark. You told me you can’t help it. It’s like the healing gift, it just builds up in you until you can’t resist anymore, and you have to do it. And I know what it’s like to be forced to do something you don’t want to do. I don’t want to force you the same way I was forced.”
He stopped talking, and Matt didn’t say anything, either, because there was nothing for him to say. And Foggy realized something in that moment, something that had been knocking around in his brain all night and all day and had finally crystalized into words he absolutely had to speak.
“You know what, Matt? You don’t have to walk me home. You don’t even have to stay in to-night. Because I already know I trust you. I told you that yesterday, and it’s still true. Even more true. I’m just reacting to that other … to Black Devil.”
All the time he was talking, Foggy had been powering down his laptop and packing it in his bag. Now he lifted the bag to his shoulder. “And I’ve been thinking. Shit happens, and you just have to deal with it, you know? I’m in this situation now, but I want to make the best of it. So I get startled every so often, so what? You give me some cheesecake or a backrub, or both, and we’re fine. So you go out and get hurt again, so what? I can’t heal you anymore, which I really hate, by the way, but I still want to help you, so … maybe I can do something else.”
Matt smiled a little. “Like what?”
“Well, right now, I can give you my permission. My blessing, if you want to call it that. I won’t hold you back from something you have to do. So it’s okay. I think I’ve pretty much gotten over the fact that you kept this from me. Yeah. I have. I’m over it. I’ve completely forgiven you. I never even think about it anymore. All I think about lately is why you have to go out.” Foggy found he was waving his arms. “And now I think I know, Matt. It’s because there are people out there like Fisk, who can get people killed. And I don’t know who it was that corrupted Francis, but if they can get to good people like my cousins, even in an alternate universe, then they have to be stopped. So go on. Go out and be Daredevil and don’t worry about me.”
Foggy stopped gesturing before he’d stopped talking, and reached out at the end of his little speech to take Matt’s hand and place it on his arm. As he walked Matt out of his office and across the reception area, Matt said, “But I do worry about you.”
“I know, but hey. A little cheesecake here, a little backrub there, and it won’t take long at all for me to get used to associating you with good things. Worry about me like that all you want!” He grinned. “And I’ll do stuff for you, because I wanna return the favour, and maybe you’ll start to associate me with good things, too.”
“What good things?” Matt asked, curious. They stopped just inside the door of his office.
“Different good things,” Foggy said, shrugging as he tried to think quickly. “Unless you really want back rubs and cheesecake, too. Or doughnuts. Or apple pie. Whatever you like.”
“I like back rubs occasionally,” Matt said. “But not when I’m …”
He let his voice trail off and looked embarrassed.
“Not when you’re too bruised and battered,” Foggy guessed, and Matt nodded. Foggy went on. “What about me not complaining about every time you get hurt? ‘Cause that’s a good thing, right? Not making fun of your horns or any other part of your costume, that’s another good thing. Not making you feel guilty for going out in the first place. I could take a first aid course, learn how to suture, for those times when Claire’s out of town. And if we ever make enough money, I’ll have a hot tub installed in your apartment so you can soak all your aches and pains away. I’ll give you whatever help I can.”
“Those are good things,” Matt agreed, nodding.
“I’d help you hide the body,” Foggy went on. “If you ever needed to hide a body, that is.”
Matt frowned slightly at that, and Foggy quickly clarified, “You know, if anything ever went wrong.”
“Okay,” Matt replied, still dubious.
“I’d even give you a razor blade, if you ever needed one.”
That made Matt smile again, and he said, “I know you would.”
“But just to be clear on one thing, Matt, if we ever both get arrested, I definitely draw the line at being your prison bitch.”
When Matt laughed, Foggy added, “It would have to be the other way around. ‘Cause if we’re ever in prison, I’d need every advantage I can get, and having Daredevil be my bitch would be the biggest one I could think of.”
At that, Matt leaned back and laughed the loudest, most delighted laughter that Foggy had heard from him in weeks, maybe months. “Oh, Foggy.”
“So go on, then. Get your stuff packed up, get your coat on, go home, then go out and fight crime,” Foggy told him. “I’ve got your back.”
Still grinning, Matt leaned forward and hugged him, just hard enough not to irritate his breastbone. “Thanks, Foggy. Thank you.”
The End
Written August 2015
Return to Daredevil Fanfic
“Foggy! We were so worried!” She came around the desk and hugged him hard, and Foggy tried not to wince at the pressure on his breastbone. “Are you all right?”
“I’m, uh, getting better,” he said.
“I came to see you in the hospital yesterday morning, but you were asleep. I met your parents, they were really nice,” she said, finally letting go. “They said somebody found you on the street and called an ambulance, but what happened?”
“Would you believe my long-dead cousin showed up and pulled me into an alternate universe?” Foggy asked. Karen gave him a skeptical look, but he went on. “Because that’s exactly what happened. Just like on Fringe. Did you ever watch Fringe, Karen?”
“Of course I watched Fringe! I mean, Joshua Jackson, Foggy! I had such a crush on him when I was younger.” Then Karen’s enthusiasm faded a little. “But that was a TV show, not real life.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too. But I had this cousin who died about three years ago from a brain aneurysm. When he showed up, I thought I’d got him mixed up with another cousin, but I hadn’t. He was from this alternate universe. He took me over there, and they had a vigilante there, too. They called him Black Devil, and they wanted me to heal him. Except I didn’t realize that they were torturing him, and they wanted to use me to keep things going.”
Karen’s mouth hung open. “Foggy, that’s terrible!”
“I know! And I couldn’t get out until I’d given the healing gift to my cousin. He was pointing a gun at me, he would have shot me! As it was, he just left me there in the street to sleep it off, and I guess that’s when they found me and took me to the hospital.” Foggy expected Karen to have some questions, but the one she asked left him surprised.
“So you just left him there? Black Devil?”
Foggy remembered Karen’s adoration of their universe’s Daredevil. “Yeah, but … the last time I healed him, I managed to slip him a tiny little razorblade from a pocket pencil sharpener that I found. I don’t know if he got away, or killed himself, or what, but it was the only thing I could do to help him. And before you ask, no, I couldn’t use the healing gift to stop his heart or anything like that. I mean, it was a healing gift! I’m not Darth Vader, using the Force to choke people to death.”
“Oh.” Karen sighed a little in relief. “Okay. Sorry, I didn’t mean –“
“Yeah, well, if you sprain your ankle again, you’re shit outta luck. But on the bright side, at least I won’t be falling asleep in the office anymore.”
“I guess that’s the bright side,” Karen said. “But your snoring was kinda funny.”
Foggy smiled with her. “That’s how I got my name. My parents said I snored like a foghorn. I’m sure Matt almost killed me, our first week together.”
There was a little bang at the door and Matt came in, asking, “Are you telling Karen the foghorn story?”
“Yup,” Foggy said. He saw that Matt was holding a white paper bag in one hand.
“And Foggy was just saying that he wouldn’t fall asleep in the office anymore,” Karen repeated.
“Yeah, no more healing gift, no more need for R&R,” Foggy said. A little more sadly, he added, “And no more Murdockmeter to tell me if you tripped while taking out the trash, or hit yourself in the face with your cane.”
“Murdockmeter?” Karen asked.
“Yeah, that’s what I called it when I could sense that someone was hurt,” Foggy explained.
“I think you also called it the feel for heal,” Matt remembered, and Karen laughed aloud.
“Hey, with great power comes great responsibility to find a cool name for it,” Foggy protested, and Karen laughed again.
“Well, whatever you called it, you won’t need it to-day,” Matt said. “Because I made it all the way here without injury.”
“That’s great!” Foggy exclaimed. He’d already been eyeing Matt up and down, checking for signs of fresh bruises or lacerations, but there were none.
“But I wanted to say I’m sorry,” Matt said. “Because you lost the gift, I mean. So I bought you a little piece of cheesecake. You like white chocolate raspberry, right? Can I give it to you, or should I put it in the fridge?”
Foggy realized that Matt had been standing there practically motionless all the time they were speaking. He hadn’t let go of his cane, nor had he taken off his coat, and he certainly hadn’t made any move to extend the white paper bag to Foggy. Instead, Matt was asking, or perhaps warning him, as though he were afraid that any movement on his part would startle Foggy into a reaction. A wave of shame washed over Foggy as he realized that Matt had really bought the cheesecake to say sorry for triggering him the night before. It took an effort for him to reach out anyway.
“Here, give it to me, I’ll put it in the fridge while you get your coat off,” Foggy said, and watched as Matt carefully handed him the bag. Everything went smoothly, no reason to freak out. To cover his embarrassment, he said, “You know I love white chocolate raspberry, but don’t think you have to buy it for me every day.”
“Just this once,” Matt said, and looked as relieved as Foggy felt when the exchange passed without incident.
But by the end of the day, Foggy had noticed a difference in the way Matt acted around him, in the way he hesitated to get too close, to reach out without announcing his actions, even to speak without thinking it over first. And once Foggy had noticed it, he couldn’t stop seeing it, and it rapidly became annoying. Finally, after Karen had gone home, and Matt was approaching the door of his office with exaggerated care one too many times, Foggy cracked.
“Matt, stop that!” he snapped, and when Matt froze in confusion, he went on. “Yeah, that! Stop treating me like I’m some kind of unexploded bomb that’s going to go off if you get too close!”
“I just don’t want to scare you, Foggy,” Matt replied slowly.
“I know! I get that! But this is just as bad! Remember how you told me once you hated it when people danced around you like you were made of glass? You’re doing the same to me right now!”
“I am?” Matt asked, then his shoulders slumped slightly. “Yeah, I guess I am. I’m sorry, Foggy. I should have realized.”
“Hey, buddy, don’t beat yourself up over it, just stop,” Foggy told him, standing up and coming around the side of his desk. “Now get over here and give me a fist bump, man.”
Matt grinned, took the three steps necessary to reach Foggy, and put his fist out horizontally. Foggy bumped it, pleased with his lack of reaction, but then, he’d seen it coming. Still, he told himself, it was a step in the right direction.
“My dad always used to say, it’s not how you hit the mat, it’s how you get up,” Matt said.
“Seriously?” Foggy asked. “And then he names you Matt?”
He gave Matt’s shoulder a mock blow, and Matt groaned. “Don’t think I haven’t heard all those jokes before.”
“Yeah, sorry.” But he wasn’t, really, and he knew that Matt knew it. “Go on, you were saying?”
“I’m just glad you’re doing your best to get back up.”
Foggy smiled, but then Matt extended his hand for a mock blow of his own, and Foggy jumped back, his heart suddenly racing. “Don’t!”
After several deep breaths, when he’d recovered somewhat, Foggy turned and slammed both fists down onto his desk. “Shit! Shit-shit-shit!”
“I’m sorry,” Matt said.
“Do that again,” Foggy snarled.
“I’m sorry?” Matt was obviously not sure what he meant.
“No, do the arm thing again. Do it again and again and again until I don’t react any more!”
“I don’t think that’s the way to get over it,” Matt said. “And anyway, you’ll be expecting it now.”
Foggy went back to his chair and slumped down in it as much as his injury would let him. “Shit. You’re right. I hate this.”
“Do you … want me to rub your shoulders?” Matt offered hesitantly.
“Why?” Foggy asked, instantly suspicious despite the tempting offer.
“I was thinking that maybe I could, um, show you that you can associate me with good things, too? Not just scaring you,” Matt explained. Ah, so that was his reasoning behind the cheesecake. It hadn’t merely been an apology.
“So every time you startle me, you wanna show me a good time?” Foggy teased, just to see Matt’s reaction.
“That’s one way of putting it,” Matt teased back. “I know you like back rubs and stuff, so I could offer to do something nice like that every time it happens.”
“Well, it sounds better than you tiptoeing around, scared that I’ll see your shadow and freak out,” Foggy decided. “Sure, Matt. Come here and give me a good ol’ Murdock Massage.”
Smiling, Matt came around to stand behind Foggy’s chair and began to rub his shoulders, softly at first, then slightly harder. It felt good, and Foggy was starting to relax when Matt asked him to lean forward.
“Ow, shit,” Foggy said. “Sorry. I moved wrong.”
“Your sternum still bothering you?”
“Yeah. I guess I got used to the healing gift pretty quickly, the way it speeded up my own healing, I mean. Never mind, it’s not your fault. You can give me another shoulder rub to-morrow. As part two of this one, I mean. And a new one if you startle me again. And cheesecake. Because I am totally going to take advantage of you now.”
Matt laughed a little. “Okay, Foggy. But for now, why don’t you go home? You’re way too tense, you should relax and get some sleep.”
“And so should you,” Foggy shot back. He turned in the chair, then stood up.
“I will,” Matt said. “I promised. Come on, get your coat, I’ll walk you home.”
Foggy frowned at the hint of overprotectiveness. “Maybe I want to walk you home,” he said, emphasizing the pronouns, and Matt laughed again.
“You’re the one who got kidnapped, Foggy,” he said.
“And I just spent the weekend watching somebody who looked exactly like you get tortured,” Foggy reminded him. “So if we want to watch out for each other and keep each other safe, we’ll just have to live here at the office, and be together at all times if we ever go out. We’d have to shop together, get coffee and bagels together, go Daredeviling together …”
Matt’s expression was a mix of amusement and sheer horror, which made Foggy smile. “That’d put a cramp in your style, wouldn’t it?” he went on. “Having me tag along when you’re out being a vigilante?”
“You wouldn’t be able to keep up,” Matt said.
“Nope,” Foggy agreed. “I’d just be a liability. A ball and chain around your ankle, holding you back.”
And then Matt did smile. “I didn’t say that. I’d never say that about you.”
“But it would be true. And I’d probably end up having more panic attacks because of it. Watching you get your ass kicked every night, not to mention what might happen if the bad guys saw me and decided to attack your weak spot. So it’s a dumb idea. Almost as dumb as wanting to walk me home to keep me safe, and then leaving me there alone. Almost as dumb as me wanting to walk you home to keep you safe, and then leaving you there alone.”
“I promised you I wouldn’t go out to-night,” Matt said. “I will keep that promise.”
“I know. I appreciate it, but it was stupid of me to ask. Because what about to-morrow night?” Foggy asked. That was something he’d been thinking about a lot. “I know you’ll be putting on that suit and jumping off your roof as soon as it’s dark. You told me you can’t help it. It’s like the healing gift, it just builds up in you until you can’t resist anymore, and you have to do it. And I know what it’s like to be forced to do something you don’t want to do. I don’t want to force you the same way I was forced.”
He stopped talking, and Matt didn’t say anything, either, because there was nothing for him to say. And Foggy realized something in that moment, something that had been knocking around in his brain all night and all day and had finally crystalized into words he absolutely had to speak.
“You know what, Matt? You don’t have to walk me home. You don’t even have to stay in to-night. Because I already know I trust you. I told you that yesterday, and it’s still true. Even more true. I’m just reacting to that other … to Black Devil.”
All the time he was talking, Foggy had been powering down his laptop and packing it in his bag. Now he lifted the bag to his shoulder. “And I’ve been thinking. Shit happens, and you just have to deal with it, you know? I’m in this situation now, but I want to make the best of it. So I get startled every so often, so what? You give me some cheesecake or a backrub, or both, and we’re fine. So you go out and get hurt again, so what? I can’t heal you anymore, which I really hate, by the way, but I still want to help you, so … maybe I can do something else.”
Matt smiled a little. “Like what?”
“Well, right now, I can give you my permission. My blessing, if you want to call it that. I won’t hold you back from something you have to do. So it’s okay. I think I’ve pretty much gotten over the fact that you kept this from me. Yeah. I have. I’m over it. I’ve completely forgiven you. I never even think about it anymore. All I think about lately is why you have to go out.” Foggy found he was waving his arms. “And now I think I know, Matt. It’s because there are people out there like Fisk, who can get people killed. And I don’t know who it was that corrupted Francis, but if they can get to good people like my cousins, even in an alternate universe, then they have to be stopped. So go on. Go out and be Daredevil and don’t worry about me.”
Foggy stopped gesturing before he’d stopped talking, and reached out at the end of his little speech to take Matt’s hand and place it on his arm. As he walked Matt out of his office and across the reception area, Matt said, “But I do worry about you.”
“I know, but hey. A little cheesecake here, a little backrub there, and it won’t take long at all for me to get used to associating you with good things. Worry about me like that all you want!” He grinned. “And I’ll do stuff for you, because I wanna return the favour, and maybe you’ll start to associate me with good things, too.”
“What good things?” Matt asked, curious. They stopped just inside the door of his office.
“Different good things,” Foggy said, shrugging as he tried to think quickly. “Unless you really want back rubs and cheesecake, too. Or doughnuts. Or apple pie. Whatever you like.”
“I like back rubs occasionally,” Matt said. “But not when I’m …”
He let his voice trail off and looked embarrassed.
“Not when you’re too bruised and battered,” Foggy guessed, and Matt nodded. Foggy went on. “What about me not complaining about every time you get hurt? ‘Cause that’s a good thing, right? Not making fun of your horns or any other part of your costume, that’s another good thing. Not making you feel guilty for going out in the first place. I could take a first aid course, learn how to suture, for those times when Claire’s out of town. And if we ever make enough money, I’ll have a hot tub installed in your apartment so you can soak all your aches and pains away. I’ll give you whatever help I can.”
“Those are good things,” Matt agreed, nodding.
“I’d help you hide the body,” Foggy went on. “If you ever needed to hide a body, that is.”
Matt frowned slightly at that, and Foggy quickly clarified, “You know, if anything ever went wrong.”
“Okay,” Matt replied, still dubious.
“I’d even give you a razor blade, if you ever needed one.”
That made Matt smile again, and he said, “I know you would.”
“But just to be clear on one thing, Matt, if we ever both get arrested, I definitely draw the line at being your prison bitch.”
When Matt laughed, Foggy added, “It would have to be the other way around. ‘Cause if we’re ever in prison, I’d need every advantage I can get, and having Daredevil be my bitch would be the biggest one I could think of.”
At that, Matt leaned back and laughed the loudest, most delighted laughter that Foggy had heard from him in weeks, maybe months. “Oh, Foggy.”
“So go on, then. Get your stuff packed up, get your coat on, go home, then go out and fight crime,” Foggy told him. “I’ve got your back.”
Still grinning, Matt leaned forward and hugged him, just hard enough not to irritate his breastbone. “Thanks, Foggy. Thank you.”
The End
Written August 2015
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