Chapter Text
Sensation came back first, a wash of pain he was all too familiar with. The smell of disinfectant in his nose. The beeping of hospital—
No. He couldn’t be here.
He tried to jerk upright, propelled by a desperate need to get out of sight before someone recognized him. He strained against the IVs holding him back, but two arms were suddenly there.
“Matt! It’s okay.” Foggy’s voice, desperate and exhausted. “You’re supposed to be here.”
Awareness came back, memories of the warehouse and being handcuffed to a chair. Bait, for Daredevil. Being beaten by her henchmen when he wouldn’t give up a name, and even harder when the masked man never came. Police sirens. Foggy.
Matt Murdock was allowed to go to the hospital.
He collapsed back onto the bed, pulling Foggy down with him. Before the other man could do anything, he wrapped his arms around him as far as the IVs would allow. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice as rough and beaten as the rest of him. “I’m so sorry. For everything.”
Foggy stayed frozen for a moment, stiff and unyielding, then he pressed his face hard against the crook of Matt’s neck. He could feel the wetness of Foggy’s tears, and Matt's own eyes filled before Foggy pulled away to sit down again. He grabbed Matt’s hand, holding on tight. “Thought you’d probably want to know that Vanessa Marianna and her men have been arrested.”
Matt nodded, squeezing Foggy’s hand and ignoring the desperate need to be closer. If this was how Foggy wanted to play it, this is how they would play it. “Good.”
“Karen was here, but I sent her home to get some sleep. The police will probably be by in the morning to get—“ Foggy cut himself off, then swallowed. “Damn it, no.” The words were thick. “I can’t do it.”
The words sounded like an end, and Matt felt a spike of real fear. “Foggy—“
“What the hell happened, Matt?” Foggy leaned close, sounding furious even though he was whispering. “You were nearly dead, and those assholes didn’t even have a mark on them.”
“There can’t be any ties between Daredevil and Matt Murdock,” Matt whispered back, relief washing through him. If Foggy was still shouting, it wasn’t the end quite yet. “And I couldn’t trust myself to punch like a blind guy.”
Foggy’s voice was ragged. “So you just let them take you, and then planned on what, letting them beat you to death?”
“I couldn’t exactly give them Daredevil like they wanted." He wrapped both his hands around Foggy's. “And if I hadn’t let them take me, they said they were going to go after you.”
“Maybe you should have let them!” Foggy snapped, tears in his voice. "At least then I'd know you'd have fought."
Hearing Foggy's pain hurt in a way he'd never learned to block out. "And what if I hadn't been fast enough? What if I hadn't been good enough?" His throat was tight. "I know what happens to people who Daredevil spends too much time with, Foggy. I couldn't risk that with you."
Foggy let out a shaky breath. "Well, I'm getting pretty damn sick of risking you."
Matt swallowed. "Better me than you."
"No," Foggy said fiercely. "You think better you than everybody, as if the only reason you're supposed to be here is to burn yourself out taking a few of the bad guys with you."
He remembered Foggy, that horrible day after he'd found out about Daredevil. But I only ever needed my friend. "What if it is?" He could feel the tears running down his cheeks. "What if you're better off without me?"
"Bullshit." The word was low and furious. "I already tried that, and it was the most miserable few days of my entire fucking life. If that's your plan, you're no longer allowed to make plans."
He was torn between the entirely inappropriate urge to laugh or cry harder. "Okay, so what's your plan?"
"I haven't figured out that part yet, but there is one thing I'm absolutely sure of." Foggy's heartbeat was completely steady, proof of how certain he was in what he was saying. "The other guy might belong to Hell's Kitchen, but Matt Murdock is mine. And I will do everything in my power to take care of him, even though it's not nearly enough."
Foggy's voice broke on the last word, and Matt's heart went right along with it. "It's enough, Foggy." He squeezed his hand tight. "It's so much more than I ever thought I'd get."
"So think for a second before deciding that getting yourself killed is the best option." The words were a rasp. "Because it sure as hell isn't going to be for me."
Not able to stand it anymore, Matt tugged him forward into another hug. “I’ll try,” he murmured, pressing his face against Foggy’s hair and breathing it in. “I don’t regret what I did, but I’ll try to be more careful.”
This time, Foggy let himself be held. “And for both our sakes, I won’t make you say that under oath.” He still sounded so tired. “Though in the future, no more near-death jokes. Definitely not the right time.”
Matt hesitated, not at all sure what Foggy was talking about. He didn’t really remember the last few minutes he’d been conscious, but he was pretty sure he wouldn’t try to make a joke. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
Foggy pulled back enough to look down at him. “The kiss comment. I know joking about stuff like that is a thing we do, but…”
Matt went cold. No. There was no way he would actually admit that out loud, not even as he was dying.
Foggy was still talking, but Matt’s face must have betrayed him – it was always so much harder to watch himself with Foggy – because the words trailed off. The breath left his lungs. “It wasn’t a joke,” Foggy said finally, sounding strangled. “Matt.”
Matt shook his head. He’d always pretended it was a joke, because he was the one responsible for shutting down that early flicker of possible interest from Foggy before he’d known any better. But if that flicker had ever come back, if he’d ever gotten another chance…. “It’s fine.” He hoped his voice wouldn’t crack. “It’s better this way – no more secrets between us. I’m okay with the fact you don’t feel the same way—”
“Wait.” If anything, Foggy sounded even more stunned. His heart was racing. “How on earth could you—“ He stopped himself, rubbing a hand over his mouth. “You said you could tell when I was lying.”
Matt wasn’t sure where Foggy was going with this, but he was happy to move onto pretty much any other topic of conversation than his feelings. “It’s like a lie detector. It depends a lot on context, and whether there’s another explanation for how they’re reacting. It also helps if they’re making a direct statement, like they would during a—“
The words cut off when Foggy suddenly leaned forward again, filling Matt’s world with fire before touching his lips against his. The kiss was utterly gentle, a flicker of hope given physical form, and for just a second it chased away every aching place in Matt’s soul.
It was over too soon, Foggy pulling away again. Matt grabbed him, wanting to keep him close, but Foggy didn’t pull back very far. “I thought you knew,” he whispered. “When you told me you could hear lies, I was sure you’d figured it out a long time ago.”
Matt shook his head, throat tight. “No.” He lifted a hand to Foggy’s face, mapping the lines and curves in a way he hadn’t had the chance to since they were in school. “I thought I’d missed my chance.”
“Then your lie detector doesn’t work nearly as well as you think it does.” Matt moved his thumb down to the corner of Foggy’s mouth, letting him feel the smile he could hear in his voice. “Because I’ve been trying to pretend I wasn’t in love with you for years.”
“Ah.” Matt lost his own breath, chest full of all the feelings he’d tried so hard to box away. “Then you should probably kiss me again.”
He felt Foggy smile again as he leaned back down. “I think I can manage that.”