There have been many moments in which Foggy has regretted his life decisions. Taking Punjabi in college? Yep. Going out with Debby in the 7th grade? Double yep. Now though, this was a new one. He tried to stop a criminal.
Tried being the most important word there.
God, he’s a fucking idiot. At least the kid got away. God, child kidnappers even so much as existing made Foggy’s heart ache. Hey, maybe the kid would call the cops or something. That’d be nice.
Eh. They’re okay. That’s what matters.
The cool metal of the mugger's gun dug into his shoulder blade, pushing him up against the rough brick wall. Foggy winced, feeling the brick scrape against his cheek, raising his hands up into the air.
“Hey, look man,” Foggy said, his voice only wavering slightly. “Just put the gun down, okay, you don’t have to-“
“Shut your damn mouth,” the guy rasped, his voice low and weak. “You just shut up. You just lost me so much fucking money.”
“Ha,” Foggy said, his face still up against the wall. He could distract the guy long enough that a kid could run away. But he didn’t think he could get out of this. “Yeah, I really don’t feel bad about that. Like at all-“
The guy growled, pushing the gun further into Foggy’s back. Ha ha. Well, this might be the end. Not that many people were gonna care anyway. His family, of course. And Karen. But they’ll be okay. There were so many of them, they’ll be there for each other. But other than that…
Foggy had a lot of regrets. He wished he would have met some more people. Friends, you know? Yeah. Then maybe Karen would have some more too.
Foggy squeezed his eyes shut, and took a breath.
And suddenly the pressure on his back was gone. Foggy blinked, quickly spinning around.
The kidnapper was stumbling backwards, holding a hand to his nose. And there was another man, breathing heavily with a mask around his face.
“Please, please,” the kidnapper said. He was still stumbling, blood now trickling through his fingers. “Please-“
The man in the mask growled, and lunged.
Foggy had never seen anything like it. The man in the mask was a hell of a fighter, flipping with all his weight. Like a ninja. But not the turtles. Or maybe a boxer? Boxer Ninja. Ninja boxer.
Foggy may be in shock.
The man pounded his fists into the guy's face again and again. His blood was freely flowing now, coating the mask's knuckles. He was relentless.
Finally, the man collapsed with a groan, falling to the ground heavily. The man in the mask was still standing, his chest heaving as he flexed his fists.
Foggy needed to catch his breath.
The man dropped his head, starting to breathe normally again. Was he…. Was he waiting for something…?
“Are you alright?” The man asked, his voice deep. Oh! Right. Foggy was just standing there awkwardly as he beat the shit out of that guy. Heh.
“Yeah! Yeah, I’m good,” Foggy said. He reluctantly left his designated spot against the wall. “Uh… thank you. Seriously, you just saved my life.”
The man tilted his head, but didn’t reply. The only part of his that Foggy could really see was his jaw, anything above his mouth was covered by the mask. Wonder if he could see out of that.
“I couldn’t get here in time,” the man said softly. Foggy blinked.
“Uh…”
“The kid. I heard him. But I…” he paused, and his hand shifted to his chest. Oh my fucking god he was bleeding.
“Dude, did you get stabbed?”
“…no.”
“Like hell, the fuck man? Who are you?” Foggy said incredulously, not really expecting an answer. I mean, an answer would be nice. But he didn’t really expect some weirdo in a mask to tell him who he was.
The man huffed a soft little laugh, then shook his head. “I was a few blocks away. Dealing with something. Then I heard the kid.”
Oh, damn.
“So, thank you,” the man continued. “But that was pretty stupid. Try not to do it again.”
“The kid got away, though,” Foggy protested. “So.”
The man nodded. “I know. Thank you.”
Foggy huffed. He glanced over at the asshole on the ground. His face was pretty fucked up, but he was breathing. “Should we, uh-“
The man tilted his head. “Police are on their way. You should get going.”
“What about you?” Foggy asked, concern for this stranger growing just a bit. It would suck if he got arrested. But the man in the mask just smiled.
He immediately jumped, latching on to the fire escape and flipping himself around, before jumping to the roof. And then he was gone.
Foggy blinked, his jaw dropped in disbelief.
“What the fuck,” he whispered.
-
The man in the mask showed up in the paper a few days later. He took down a sex trafficker, apparently. But no one knew who he was. People were worried about him. Probably understandably. No way what he was doing was legal, but so far, he was stopping bad people. Foggy couldn’t be mad. And he had saved his life.
Foggy sighed, running his hands over his face.
Ughhhhhhhhhhhhh
“So, he was just wearing a black mask?” Karen sat in front of him with the most confused look he had ever seen. “Like, I dunno, some knock off Avenger?”
“I wouldn’t say Avenger,” Foggy replied. “He was… violent.” He thought back to the blood covering the man’s knuckles. “Really violent.”
“Huh,” Karen said, frowning. “But he did save your life.”
“Oh yeah, no doubt about it,” Foggy said. “I thought I was a goner, honestly,”
“…Foggy-“ Karen said, her eyes widening in concern.
“Hey! No, no it’s good. I’m good.” Foggy would not let anyone feel bad about this. “The mask guy, though. That shit is definitely illegal.”
Karen scoffed. “You were just talking about how he saved your life.”
“Yeah, but. I don’t know. I’m a little worried about the ethics of it all.”
“Oh great, am I going to hear your speech about the rights and wrongs of the law again?”
“Oh hush,” Foggy said. “I just… want to know more about him.”
Karen rolled her eyes. “You need more friends.”
“Rude. If anything we both do.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t!”
“Wow. We’re a couple of losers, aren’t we,” Foggy said lightheartedly. He loved Karen, he really did. Foggy had been running his own flower shop for a couple of months now. And it was going pretty well! Well, now that Karen was here.
Foggy had wanted to do this on his own. He wasn’t usually the type. He had a huge supportive family who were up here just about every week to check up on him, which was great and all, but. He wanted to feel like he was achieving something. Doing something good. He loved his flowers. Flowers helped people. They made people happy. Sometimes he didn’t know if his family realized that. Foggy thinks they’re stuck on his 8 year old self's dream of becoming a lawyer. But as he got older, he realized how that just wasn’t going to happen. It was so much money, jesus christ. And he also realized just how unjust the law could be sometimes. He still believed in it. He could’ve been a great lawyer. But that just wasn’t his dream anymore.
Now, at least he knew he could make his customers happy. He was gonna be the best damn florist they’ve ever seen.
And Karen!
Karen had been his first customer. She had been so excited to buy the first bouquet from his store, they had ended up talking for half an hour about the area. Karen was new, and Foggy had lived here all his life. Then they realized they both had no friends. Then they got take-out together and became fast friends.
Then Foggy hired her, cause well, you know. It’s kinda hard running a store by yourself.
Now they were besties. Yeehaw.
“You think he’d be our friend?” Karen asked. Foggy laughed.
“We must be pretty desperate if our only option is the weird ass vigilante running around in pajamas.”
“He’d probably think we’re insane.”
“Oh most definitely. Too bad I’ll probably never even see him again.”
“Damn,” Karen said, shaking her head. “There goes our hypothetical bestie.”
Foggy grinned. “Too bad. Now we can’t invite the illegal ass kicker to our annual company Christmas party.”
“Please tell me that’s a real thing, holy shit.”
Foggy laughed. He was a little disappointed he would never see the guy again. Professional curiosity, though. He was not trying to be friends with a vigilante. Even if his ass was fantastic.
-
Foggy didn’t need to be disappointed.
Because the next time Foggy saw the man in the mask, it was because he heard crying.
So Foggy ran.
He turned quickly down the street, finding himself along the docks where he swore he could hear a kid cry.
And there he was, the man in the mask, crouched in front of a little girl.
“Hey, you’re safe,” the man said. His voice was soft, nowhere near the low growl Foggy had heard before. It was kind, clearly comforting the girl. “You’re safe.”
The girl sniffled, and then jumped forward, clutching the vigilantes' neck tight. The man stiffened, but didn’t hesitate in holding the girl close to him. Then his head cocked.
He stood up quickly, turning his body towards Foggy, coiled in anticipation.
Foggy immediately raised his hands up. “It’s me!”
The man didn’t move. Damn, guess he wasn’t recognizable.
“You saved me about a week ago,” Foggy added. The man’s fist flexed, the other arm still holding the girl to his chest. He tilted his head down, angled towards her.
“She needs help.”
Foggy started walking closer. The man wasn’t just a predator. He seemed worried for this little girl. Foggy’s heart stuttered.
“What can I do?” Foggy asked. There had to be something. “Parents?”
“No,” the man growled.
Foggy nodded quickly. “Okay. I… I know a police officer, he’s an old friend. He’s a good guy I promise.”
The vigilante let out a breath. “You’re sure you trust him?”
Foggy nodded quickly. The man grimaced, and turned his head towards the girl in his arms. “Hey,” he said softly. The girl looked up. “This man is going to help you, okay? I need you to go with him.”
The girl’s face crumbled, and Foggy’s heart broke.
“I’ll be watching over you,” the man said before she could say anything. “I won’t leave you.”
She sniffled. “…promise?”
He didn’t even hesitate. “I promise.” The man turned to Foggy, shifting the girl to hand her over. “Take her. I’ll be following.” Foggy nodded quickly, and turned to the girl.
“Hey! I’m Foggy. I would introduce you to my friend over here but he likes his mystique, so I’ve got no clue what his name is.” Foggy ignored the huff of laughter the man in the mask gave before scaling up the wall and disappearing. Foggy started to walk to the police station, confident the man was watching over them. The girl gave a tiny little smile.
“Alexis.”
“Nice to meet you,” Foggy replied. “Next you’re gonna meet someone who I can actually introduce you to. His name’s Brett.”
The girl didn’t answer, which didn’t deter Foggy in the slightest. “He might act like I annoy him, but I know the truth. Everyone loves me, it’s just a fact of life.” Alexis smiled a bit at that, but kept her head down. “That’s why our mysterious friend who is most likely following us on the roof didn’t just run away from me. I’m very lovable.”
“...do you know him?” Alexis asked softly.
Hm.
“Uh, of course.” Foggy figured lying would make her feel a little better about being handed off to a stranger. “We’re besties.”
“He’s really nice,” she whispered. “He punched my dad in the face.”
Foggy stumbled. Oh shit, hold on. He had really just trusted this guy like it was nothing. This, this vigilante wearing a fucking mask running around like a pyscho in the middle of the night…
But the girl was scared, and the man was concerned. …What was happening here?
“It’s okay though, my dad hit me first.”
Foggy stumbled. Okay. Okay, yeah. “Well, our friend sure can pack a punch.”
Alexis giggled. “Yeah. It was kinda scary.”
Foggy hummed. “I bet. You’re very brave. I would’ve cried.”
She giggled again, starting to look up from where she had been keeping her face squished against Foggy’s chest. “You’re brave! Like mask guy.”
Foggy laughed. “Mask guy?”
“Well I don’t know his name,” she pouted. Foggy grinned.
“It’s probably something dumb,” Foggy replied. “Like, I don’t know. Bartholomew.”
“Bartholomew?!” She exclaimed joyfully. “That’s perfect.”
Oh god.
“He’s gonna hate me,” Foggy grumbled as Alexis laughed in his face. Traitor.
Finally, the two (or 3, counting Bartholomew who was surely following them closely) made it to the station. Brett was not impressed.
“The hell you getting yourself into, Nelson,” he said, crossing his arms across his chest with a weary look on his face. Alexis stood beside him with her hands on her hips triumphantly.
“Bartholomew saved me. Then Foggy helped,” she announced proudly.
Brett raised an unimpressed brow. Foggy sighed.
“The uh… the man in the mask,” Foggy explained. Brett’s face dawned with recognition. But not the good kind.
“That maniac?” He said. “We’ve been catching criminals looking like they’ve been mauled cause that guy’s been beating the shit out of them, Foggy. He’s dangerous.”
“Look, I don’t know anything about him,” Foggy said. “But he saved this girl and he saved me. And no matter what you think of him you’re helping Alexis. So it doesn’t matter how she ended up here.”
Brett sighed. “It still very much does matter how she ended up here,” he grumbled. But he walked around the counter to speak with Alexis.
The police took care of the rest. Mainly Brett though, he seemed to want to be the one handling it. Alexis was going to stay with her aunt who lived across town, which she seemed thrilled about. Her father, on the other hand, well. They found the man unconscious in Alexis’ bedroom, covered in his own blood. The man in the mask took care of him. Alexis was pretty shaken, which understandable. But she was doing extremely well.
Foggy was waiting with her in one of the police’s back rooms when the man in the mask opened the window.
Foggy cursed in surprise. “Bartholomew!” Alexis exclaimed.
Somehow, the man didn’t even seem surprised. He dropped onto the ground with a grunt, and pulled himself up. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. “I’m waiting for Aunt Jane to come get me.”
“You like her?” The man asked suspiciously, but Alexis nodded.
“I haven’t seen her much since my mom died,” she explained. “My dad was mean.”
“Okay,” the man said. “That’s good that you’re going with her.” She smiled, and ran over to hug the man’s legs. He turned his head. “Thank you again, Foggy. It means a lot.”
Foggy waved him off. “It was for Alexis man. Don’t be selfish.”
The man let out a laugh, and goddamn he had a nice laugh. What the fuck.
The man sat down, and Alexis climbed into his lap and closed her eyes, snuggling her head against his chest. She must be exhausted.
“I am sorry I named you Bartholomew,” Foggy said after a little while, not really sounding sorry at all.
“...That was really the best you could come up with?”
Damn, he must have been following them closer than Foggy thought if the man had heard their conversation. “Hey now, it’s a distinguished name.”
“I’ve heard better.”
“What you want something stupid like, I don’t know, killer? It goes with your very illegal aesthetic.”
“If anyone called me killer I think I would cry.”
“And I would pay to see that. So I guess it’s Bartholomew, then huh?”
The man sighed with a grin on his face. “I don’t think I look like a Bartholomew.”
“Well then you need a new mirror,” Foggy said. “Or a new pair of eyes.”
The man let out a sharp laugh that caught him by surprise. “Maybe I do.”
Foggy rolled his eyes. Dramatic. “So, you're hiding from the cops?”
The man shifted his weight. “I don’t think they like me very much.”
“I mean, probably not,” Foggy replied. “There’s a lot of moral ethic type stuff about your whole… thing that we could get into. I kind of want to, honestly. I love a good law argument.”
“Believe me, I’ve had the argument with myself many times. It hasn’t gotten easier.”
“So why do you do it?” Foggy asked. Look, he had to know. It was eating him up inside. He had his disagreements with the law, but he still believed in it. He had to hear this guy’s side.
The man sighed, tightening his hold on Alexis. He stayed silent for awhile, just holding her. “The first time I… I put on the mask. I heard a little girl. And her father, going into her room every night. I heard her crying.”
Oh god.
“I.. I did what I was supposed to. I called Child Services, but no one believed it. No one would stop him. But…” He clenched his jaw, squeezing Alexis protectively. “I knew I could.”
“I can’t stop,” he said softly. “I have to keep doing it, Foggy. For the same reason you stopped that kidnapper, and the same reason you ran when you heard a little girl cry.”
Foggy let out a breath, watching the man cradle the girl to his chest. “Okay.” The man tilted his head in Foggy’s direction. “I get it. I don’t know if I think it’s a good idea, cause if you get yourself killed I won’t know what to do. But I get it.”
The man smirked a bit, but it was shaky. “You worried about me, Nelson?”
“Obviously,” Foggy replied. “I distinctly remember you getting stabbed last time.”
“I’m fine.”
Foggy threw up his hands. “See, that’s why I’m worried. I don’t believe that for a second.”
The man didn’t reply to that, but he seemed a little bit more at ease than before.
Before long, he had to leave. He couldn’t let anyone catch him, so he gave Alexis to Foggy and stepped through the window he came in from. “See you around.”
“I hope I don’t,” Foggy said. The man in the mask didn’t have to know he was lying.
-
Foggy didn’t see him again for a few weeks. He had, however, shown up in the paper quite a few times. And it wasn’t good.
People were realizing just how violent he could be. They weren’t paying attention to who he was stopping, or why he was doing it. Only how. They called him the Devil.
The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.
Ridiculous.
That man was a Bartholomew, no further questions.
Karen didn’t believe it either. She seemed to think the guy was a saint. He saved people, and only hurt bad people, is what she said. He was doing what the police said. Foggy still thought what he was doing had some issues, but he couldn’t help but agree with Karen. At least a little. He trusted him.
Foggy’s footsteps seemed loud on the wet pavement. Alley’s seemed darker with the only light coming from billboards high above them. He was leaving the shop later than normal, a big order had just been placed to be picked up in a few days and Foggy was too nice to say no.
He bit back a groan, and secretly wished he had taken up Karen’s offer to get him some pepper spray. It was dark, okay? Kinda spooky after almost getting murdered. He started walking faster.
“What are you doing.”
Foggy jumped about a foot in the air.
“Christ!” Foggy yelled in surprise, his arms flailing in the air. The man in the mask stood in the alley beside him.
“Language,” he said with a smirk. He looked the same as the last two times, black mask, black shirt, cargo pants. Standard vigilante attire, Foggy guessed.
Foggy scoffed. “Dick.”
The man didn’t reply, but Foggy swore he was grinning. Bastard.
“Didn’t you have a gun against your back a couple weeks ago?” The man in the mask asked, a warning in his tone.
“Um. Maybe.”
“And now you decided to walk home alone. At night. Again.”
Foggy crossed his arms. “So what, you want me to use the buddy system? Hold hands? Cross the street?” This guy, jeez. He trusted him, sure. He could still be an ass.
“If it stops you from getting shot, then I guess so,” the man replied smugly.
Foggy hummed. “Guess you’ll have to be my buddy then, Bartholomew.”
The man’s mouth opened, then closed. “What.”
Foggy grinned. Oh ho ho. You aren’t the only one who can be a dick, mask boy. “You’ll keep me safe, right? Oh mystical man in the mask. Buddy.”
“That…” his head tilted to the side, almost like a bird. “That’s not what I meant.”
“You don’t want to be my buddy?” Foggy asked. “Damn, I’m hurt. You wound me.”
The man scoffed, failing to hide a smile. “It’s dangerous out here.”
“Duh,” Foggy replied. “But you’ve protected me so far.”
The man studied him for a moment. Foggy couldn’t make out any features from under his mask, only his mouth and jaw visible. “You need to be careful.”
Foggy rolled his eyes. “So do you. I distinctly remember you being stabbed.”
“Lightly. And that was forever ago. I’m fine.”
Foggy groaned. Like, 2 weeks bro. Max.
“Anyway, I hear they’re calling you the Devil now.”
The man didn’t rise to the bait, but he tensed. “Do you agree with them?” He asked, his voice wary.
“Nah,” Foggy said casually. “Do you?” He expected the man to dispute it passionately, but he didn’t reply. “Oh my god you do.”
He didn’t respond.
“Dude. That’s fucked up.”
He sighed. “Yeah, I know.” He flexed his fists, and thankfully there wasn’t any blood on his knuckles this time.
“Well, I don’t agree with it. My friend Karen doesn’t either,” Foggy said honestly. “I don’t think the Devil would hug little girls and follow her for hours just to make sure she’s okay.”
He hummed, not really responding. But he wasn’t disagreeing, so Foggy took that as a win. And then-
“I’m Catholic,” the man said idly. Huh.
“So…” Foggy thought for a moment. “Uh, the whole devil thing must be kinda wild. Or something. Blasphemous? Maybe. I don’t really know.”
The man breathed out what could be considered a laugh. “Maybe. It’s interesting. They might have a point.”
“You don’t seem too upset about it,” Foggy told him.
He smirked a bit. “I kind of like the imagery.”
Foggy groaned. “You are so dramatic.” The man laughed.
“A little.”
Foggy rolled his eyes, but couldn’t keep the grin off his face. This guy needs to stop being so endearing, jeez. Dork.
“Well,” Foggy said, placing his hands on his hips. “I should be getting home. Like I was trying to before you creeped out of the shadows like a weirdo.”
“I don’t creep,” the man said. “I parkour. And I’ll walk you.”
“Nerd,” Foggy said. Wait. What the fuck. “You’ll walk me?”
“I feel like if I leave you on your own you try and stop 4 muggers. And get shot. And die.”
“Okay first off! I would kick their asses. So lay off.”
“So you don’t want me to walk you?” He said. Foggy could feel the disapproving look on his face. Foggy looked out into the street. The very dark, menacing street. With sirens. And scary people. Ughhhhhhh
“Fine! Fine,” Foggy huffed. The man just about bounced on the balls of his feet. “But if you try to make me backflip up a building I’m just gonna lay down and cry.”
“Don’t worry,” he said with a smile. “No backflipping. Not yet, anyway.”
Ahahaha. He’s crazy. Foggy rolled his eyes.
Foggy told him where he lived, and the man dutifully took him through back-ways to his apartment building. Foggy wondered if he should be worried that the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen now knows where he lived. He probably already knew, honestly. Foggy was nowhere near as quiet as the man in the mask was, but he was sure no one noticed them.
The man (the Devil?) was good at what he did. He kept the parkour to a minimum for Foggy’s sake, but Foggy could feel his agility just in how he moved.
They made it to Foggy’s apartment much quicker than he would’ve on his own. The man stopped a little ways away, letting Foggy pass him.
“Thanks for keeping me company,” Foggy said. The man smiled slightly, about to fade back into the shadows. “Guess you’re my friend now, huh?”
He paused. “…uh.”
Foggy grinned. “Yeah. We’re friends.”
Guess he was trying to befriend a vigilante. Who would've guessed.
-
“Again!?” Karen cried.
“It’s been like 2 more times, actually,” Foggy replied, a bit awkwardly.
“Oh my god, Foggy.”
“I know,” Foggy groaned, rubbing his face as he leaned over the counter. “I may have uh, forcibly tried to be his friend.”
Karen stared at him. “And!?”
“He just kinda… backflipped away?” The Devil had just kind of froze for a second, then he was parkouring up the roof. So. “It wasn’t a no.”
“Foggy,” Karen said with a grin. “We have been each other's only friend for way too damn long. But I was not actually expecting you to go and make friendship bracelets with the masked vigilante of Hell’s Kitchen.”
“…he’s actually cool with the whole devil thing actually so like, if you want to call him the devil I think it’s okay-“
Karen screamed into the counter. She looked up. “This is amazing. I want to meet him.”
“I’m sure you will eventually,” Foggy said honestly. “With the amount of times I’ve ran into him it's bound to happen soon.”
Karen nodded. “But like, I don’t want to get mugged or anything. You’re gonna have to seriously befriend him so I can just have a conversation like a normal person.”
“Maybe he’ll drop by and buy some flowers,” Foggy added. Karen laughed. “He could like flowers! You never know!”
And with that, the bell over the door rang. Karen and Foggy both leapt to their feet in anticipation.
… and it was an old man.
“That was embarrassing,” Karen muttered. Foggy elbowed her in the side.
“Hi!” Foggy said with a wave. The man smiled at him, and came forward. He was wearing a dark suit, with a collar with a small white square- oh! Priest!
Foggy was not religious, if you couldn't tell.
“Welcome! Can I help you with anything today?”
“Ah, yes,” the priest said. “I was hoping I could put in a large order? My church and I are putting on a little fundraising event, a big thing for the kids too. And, well.” He chuckled a bit goodnaturedly, wringing his hands together. “We would like to have it outside but it’s really just a bunch of dirt out there. I thought flowers could make it look nicer.”
Foggy heard Karen fistpumping from behind him. He restrained the urge to do the same. This was going to be their first big order.
“Yes of course!” Foggy said, grinning. “Tell me everything.” Father Lantom sighed in relief.
His church, Clinton Church, was, well, a bit broke. As most things were in Hell’s Kitchen. They also needed funds for their orphanage, St. Agnes. Which is what the event was for, something for the kids and to make money. Multitasking, hell yeah.
Father Lantom dutifully told Foggy exactly what he wanted, and Foggy quickly scribbled it all down because he would definitely forget the moment he walked out the door. They would deliver it the morning of, which was about 2 weeks away.
Father Lantom thanked them profusely.
“It’s really no problem at all,” Karen replied sweetly. “We’re pretty new, so we’re just thankful to actually be getting orders.”
Foggy nodded aggressively. Father Lantom laughed.
“Glad I could be of service then,” he said with a smile. As soon as he stepped out the door, Foggy started dancing.
Karen laughed, throwing her arms into the air.
“We might not be broke!” He cheered.
-
“What are your opinions on cookies?”
The Devil stood there awkwardly, his mouth open in surprise. Foggy had camped out on his roof with a Tupperware full of cookies on his lap. Soon enough, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen had found him. But Foggy knew how to surprise him. Ha.
“Cause I have some. If you would also like some.”
He tilted his head. “Peanut butter?”
How the fuck did he know that.
Whatever.
Foggy grinned. “Yessir. Nelson family recipe. And by Nelson family recipe I mean my mom found the recipe online and told me ‘Franklin if you ever snitch you’ll never see another cookie again’.”
The Devil pursed his lips as he tried to hold back a laugh. “Understood.”
“So,” Foggy held up the Tupperware enticingly. “Interested?”
“Feels like I’m being bribed,” he said as he came closer, standing in front of him with his hands on his hips.
“Bribed into being my friend, sure,” Foggy replied. The man shook his head. If Foggy could see his face he was sure he would be rolling his eyes.
“This could be dangerous, you know,” the man said quietly. Foggy shrugged.
“Come on, that’s a bit dramatic.”
The man didn’t respond, but he clenched his jaw and turned away.
“I mean come on, everything in Hell’s Kitchen is dangerous. You’re just the guy trying to stop it, very illegally but whatever. If anything it’s safer with you than anywhere else.”
The man sighed, but he sat down beside Foggy and crossed his legs. “Okay.”
“Okay?” Foggy asked.
“Give me a cookie Nelson, I’m starving.”
Foggy laughed, and handed one over. “Vigilantes need a lot of fuel, huh?”
“Forgot my granola bars,” he said with a smirk. Foggy rolled his eyes.
“Don’t tell me you’re a health nut.”
“It’s not being a health nut. It’s taking care of your body.”
“Lame. Counterpoint, coffee.”
He let out a world weary sigh. “…damn.”
“Ha!”
The man shoved his arm playfully, and Foggy giggled as he was pushed to the side.
“So like, when the hell do you sleep man?” Foggy asked. “You gotta at least be wiped out til noon.”
The man chuckled a bit. “That’s not exactly an option, unless I quit my job.”
Foggy’s eyes widened. “You have a day job?”
The man suddenly had the distinct look of wanting to backflip off the roof.
“Don’t you dare,” Foggy said. The Devil sighed.
“Yes, I have a day job.”
“Ooh! So-“
“I’m not telling you what it is.”
Foggy did not pout. He did not. “I probably should have expected that.”
The man chuckled, taking a bite of his cookie. “Yes you should’ve.”
“So, no one knows who you are?” Foggy asked cautiously. He shook his head.
“They can’t.”
“Why not?”
“It’s dangerous. I’m not going to let anyone suffer because of me.”
Fine, fine. Foggy nodded silently. “I guess I understand. A little dumb though, buddy. Seriously,”
They sat silently for a moment, the sounds of Hell’s Kitchen surrounding them. Next to Foggy, the man was fidgeting, rubbing his fingers together. Then he took a breath.
“Everyone leaves,” the man said, his voice low and rough. He fiddled with his hands in his laps, not looking at Foggy. Not looking at anything really. “Everyone leaves eventually. What I do… I- who I am, it makes them leave. And it should. They should leave. When they know me, and what I can do. But, I think I’m selfish.” He huffed a laugh darkly. “I don’t want them to. So I don’t tell them. I lie, I keep secrets. I don’t want to hurt them. And I… I don’t want to be alone.”
“That’s not selfish,” Foggy said without thinking. This… this wasn’t right. This was just a guy who has been hurt too many times. The man clenched his jaw, but didn’t turn to look at him. “It’s not selfish to need people.”
“I don’t need-“
Foggy raised his brows. “Everyone needs people, pal.”
The man frowned, rubbing his fingers together absentmindedly. “I don’t know.”
“Well,” Foggy said. “I need people. And I’m not ashamed to admit it. I need a lot of things, but people is a biggie. I’m kind of lonely, if you haven’t realized.”
“You are?”
“Yeah, I’m not all that cool. I mean, I definitely am,” Foggy said with a laugh. “But for some reason most people don’t seem to realize it.”
“That’s ridiculous,” The man said forcefully, sitting up a bit straighter. He almost looked, well. Offended. Foggy snorted.
“Nah, it’s cool,” he said, waving off his protests. “It means the friends I do have, I know they’re legit.”
The man frowned. “It’s still stupid, though.”
“Okay, okay,” Foggy replied. “They’re a bunch of dumbasses.” He nodded seriously. Foggy grinned. Dork.
They sat together for a little longer. He was good company, the Devil. A good listener. Foggy never thought that he didn’t care, or that the man was just trying to be nice. It was like he actually cared about Foggy, just for who he was.
“So no one’s put together who you are? Your whole, secret identity?” Foggy asked curiously.
The man chuckled darkly, and Foggy found that he was devastated to hear how empty it sounded. “People don’t seem to think I’m capable of much.”
Foggy jerked in surprise. “Seriously?! That makes zero sense, dude. I think that’s ridiculous.”
“You would understand if you knew me,” he said tiredly. God, he sounded exhausted.
“Yeah, no,” Foggy replied immediately. “If I knew you, I would realize right away you were the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.”
“Oh yeah?” He said disbelievingly, tilting his chin up. He had some stubble, Foggy noticed. Very cool.
“Yep. It won’t even be a challenge, I know you too well.”
“Uh huh,” he replied with a twist to his lips. “I don’t think so, pal.”
“Wow. You don’t believe your best friend? Disrespectful. I could recognize you by one feature alone!”
He gave him a curious look, a smirk growing on his face. “What’s that?”
Foggy leaned in, and attempted to replicate the devil’s shitty raspy voice cover up. “Your ass.”
The Devil froze, and burst out laughing. Foggy… Foggy was in awe.
“My… my ass?!” He said incredulously, voice higher than Foggy had ever heard it. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope,” Foggy said, feeling happier than he had in a long time. “It’s very recognizable, I regret to say. You’re going to lose all your mystique cause your ass is just that good.”
The devil threw his head back with laughter, and Foggy was right along with him. The man fumbled to grab Foggy’s arm for balance.
“You- Foggy.” He was giggling like a little kid what the fuck. “What- what does that even mean?”
Foggy couldn’t contain his own giggles. “Nuh uh. You know. You have a whole… thing going on, you have to know how it comes across.”
His laughter died down, but he leaned in closer. “…Do you think I’m hot?” He said, his voice low and raspy once again, but this time it wasn’t to scare an enemy away, or conceal an identity.
Foggy swallowed. “Not a chance.”
Yeah that was a fucking lie.
The Devil giggled some more, but eventually faded away. “Thank you, Foggy,” he said softly. Foggy didn’t exactly know what he was thanking him for.
The devil stood up quickly, cocking his head like he was listening for something. He grimaced. “Duty calls.”
Damn. Foggy nodded understandingly. “If you must.”
He nodded. “Thank you.” Foggy still didn’t know what he was thanking him for.
The man stepped towards Foggy determinedly, then quickly turned and ran, leaping off the roof.
“Drama queen,” Foggy muttered.
3 rooftops away, Matt Murdock laughed.
-
Foggy slammed his hands on to the counter. “If I get arrested for looking at too many peoples asses will you bail me out?”
Karen blinked, her fork halfway to her mouth. “…what the fuck, Foggy?!”
-
Their first big order was drawing closer and closer. Foggy was so fucking excited. Father Lantom was extremely helpful in letting them know what he wanted, and what freedoms they could take. He really just wanted something happy, and that was something Foggy excelled in.
“I told him he should have karaoke at the event,” Foggy told her as he cut the stems to the daffodils. “He seemed interested, so Karen, listen. You gotta listen. We may have to stay.”
Karen laughed. “It’s not like we’re doing much else here anyway. We might as well celebrate our first big day with some karaoke.”
“Hell yeah,” Foggy said. “Hell fucking yeah.”
-
“What are your thoughts on karaoke?“
“Horrid. Disgusting. I have to wear earplugs, Foggy.”
Foggy scoffed. The Devil grinned.
“Well, you’re not invited to my next birthday party.”
“Pity. I was so looking forward to it.”
Foggy threw a fork at him.
-
Karen got her wish. She got to meet the Devil. Just not in the way they expected.
Foggy and Karen had to stay late one night. A last minute order was made to pick up the next day, and they needed to have it ready early in the morning. But hey, at least the customer was paying extra for their inconvenience.
Foggy groaned as he packaged the last bouquet. “Okay, I think that might be it.”
Karen sighed in relief, dropping her head on to the counter. “We really need some kind of policy about how late people can put in orders.”
Foggy grimaced. “Yeah, I didn’t think we were well known enough for that to be a problem.” Karen laughed, and moved to clean up their work.
“Well, at least it's over,” she said with a sigh. “Now we can go home and sleep for 3 years-” Karen startled as a loud bang interrupted her.
It was silent for a moment as Foggy and Karen stared at each other. “What the hell was that?” Foggy hissed. Karen lunged for her pepper spray. Ha, jokes on you. Foggy grabbed his baseball bat. Together, they tiptoed out the side door into the darkness of the alley. Foggy could hear cars in the distance, but he and Karen stayed close to the wall of their shop.
Karen leaned to the side, looking around on the pavement. “I don’t see anything,” she whispered. Foggy grimaced, and moved past her. She was right, he didn’t see a thing other than their dumpster. Aw, damn it.
Foggy crept to the dumpster, holding his bat high in the air. His footsteps seemed loud in the alley, but he ignored it, trying to keep his breathing calm and quiet.
“Please be a raccoon, please be a raccoon,” he whispered. Foggy took a deep breath, and leaned over the top of the bin.
The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen was in his dumpster.
“Oh shit,” Foggy said loudly, suddenly losing the ability to breathe.
“What? What is it?” Karen asked quickly, panic laced in her words. Foggy was panicking for a different reason. He stepped up to the side of the dumpster as quickly as he could, leaning down to reach his friend.
“Hey, hey,” Foggy said, reaching down and patting the man’s face. “Come on, you’re okay.” He turned around to look at Karen. “It’s him.”
She gasped, rushing forward to peer over the side of the bin. “Oh my god.” Foggy patted his face again, a little more aggressively, and the man groaned.
Oh thank god. “Hey!” Foggy said. Because of the mask, Foggy couldn’t see if his eyes were open or not. Shit, uh…
“Hey,” the man said weakly.
YES.
“Hey man,” Foggy said, forcing himself to act casual. He couldn’t see any injuries, but he could make a pretty good guess. “I’m gonna assume you're hurt and that's why you’re just chilling in my dumpster.”
The man chuckled a bit, attempting to sit up. “I’m fine,” he grunted, wrapping an arm around his chest. “Didn’t know this was your dumpster.”
“Mmhm, right,” Foggy said. He reached out his hand, and after a moment's hesitation, the Devil grabbed it and lifted himself out of the dumpster.
“I just… ah,” the man gingerly pressed a hand to his side. “Couple of cuts. Bruised ribs. Nothing I can’t handle.”
Foggy hummed, putting his hand on the man’s shoulder and guiding him towards the door of the shop. “Lol.”
He tilted his head. “…lol?”
“Yup. Lol. You’re getting your ass inside and I’m gonna look at your cuts and shit. Oh! This is Karen.”
Karen waved.
“She’s a big fan.”
“Foggy!” She hissed. “Dick.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Foggy led the man inside, pushing him into the back room and sitting him down.
“You don’t have to do this,” he said, his voice weak. “Really.”
“Tough,” Foggy replied cheerfully. Karen rolled her eyes. The man sighed, but he relaxed just enough so that he didn’t look like he was going to backflip away.
“It smells nice in here,” the Devil said after a moment. Foggy laughed, glancing at the flowers that were overtaking the store.
“I’d hope so,” Foggy said, hunting for his first aid kit. Damn. Did he have a first aid kit?
“Don’t tell anyone but I febreezed earlier,” Karen said. Foggy scoffed.
“We don’t need febreeze,” Foggy replied, finally grabbing the kit triumphantly and dropping it next to their new friend. “We have nature’s febreeze.”
“Nature’s febreeze,” the man in the mask mumbled teasingly. Foggy swatted his leg.
“Okay, uh,” Foggy grimaced at the Devil in front of him. The most first aid he’s had to do is putting band aids on his little cousins' scrapes and bruises. Those kids weren’t regularly beating the shit out of people in back alleys. The Devil held out his hand.
“I can do it,” he said.
Foggy glared at him. “No.”
“What… What do you mean, no?”
“I mean no! You’re bleeding way too much, pal. The least I can do is give you a band aid.”
“Can you do stitches?”
“Um.”
The man hummed gleefully, snatching the first aid kit from Foggy’s hands. “I got it.” Foggy rolled his eyes.
“See what I put up with?” Foggy asked Karen. Karen was hiding her grin behind a hand.
“Seems like a pain,” she replied. The Devil huffed, prodding a cut in his side.
“I’m a delight,” he grumbled, poking at his bloodied skin.
“Oh I’m sure,” Karen said honestly. “The way Foggy talks about you I’d have to be an asshole to deny it.”
He tilted his head. “You talk about me?” A teasing smirk was growing on his face. A very attractive smirk. Very attractive face.
Ahahaha. Why was Foggy’s heart racing?
Fuck.
“We’re besties dude, obviously I’m gonna talk about you.” Foggy leaned casually against the table, keeping his rapid nerves to himself. He may be having some sort of revelation here holy shit.
“Besties,” he said dryly. Foggy nodded.
The Devil chuckled, positioning himself to begin stitching his cut. Foggy abruptly turned away.
“Oh buddy I am not watching that,” Foggy groaned, hearing him chuckle behind him.
“Looks fine to me,” the Devil replied with a smirk, like he wasn’t stitching his fucking skin together.
“You probably see this shit all the time! And take an Ibuprofen or something, Jesus.”
“I don’t think Jesus needs Ibuprofen.”
Foggy threw a pencil at him.
The trio continued to talk for awhile. They got along like they had all been friends for years. The man in the mask fit in perfectly with him and Karen, and Karen fit perfectly with the Devil. They made an interesting group, the three of them.
Foggy loved it.
The man eventually finished his stitching so Foggy could properly fuss over him. Karen did too, but she was a little cooler about it. The Devil seemed to be stuck in a state of confusion.
“I’m fine, really-”
Karen shushed him.
The Devil pouted.
Foggy stifled a laugh. And maybe a blush.
Ahaha.
He ignored the look Karen was giving him.
The Devil stuck around for a little while. At first he was antsy, practically vibrating in his need to leave. But he relaxed with Karen and Foggy. But eventually, he had to go. The Devil lightly dropped on to his feet from off the table, tilting his head at the two of them.
“Stay out of trouble,” he said with a smirk.
“Yeah, that’s probably not gonna happen,” Foggy replied. Karen laughed.
“Turns out running a flower shop is the height of danger,” she said.
The man scoffed, not even turning to look at them. He moved to leave. “Well. Do your best,” he whispered, before gracefully climbing out the window and up the fire escape.
Good lord.
That man was something.
Foggy might be, uh. Crushing. A bit. Maybe.
Or just fucking in love, Jesus Christ.
-
The church’s fundraiser was drawing closer. They hadn’t seen the masked man since the night of the dumpster, but they knew he was around. Everyday there were more and more reports of a man in a mask saving lives and hurting others.
Foggy though, he knew the distinction.
He grabbed another daffodil for the bouquet he was working on, tying the stems together tight.
Father Lantom was a really, really nice guy. He wasn’t picky, wasn’t overbearing, a perfect customer honestly.
Foggy bundled more and more flowers together, organizing them and packing for their trip. Karen worked alongside him diligently. The fundraiser was this weekend, and they only had a few more arrangements to make.
“You think they’ll like this?” Foggy asked, holding up a flower crown of dandelions. “I’m conflicted.”
“Aw, Foggy,” Karen said. “That’s cute.”
“Yeah?” Foggy asked, turning it in his hands. “Should I make more?” Lantom hadn’t asked for it specifically, but hey. The guy was nice, it was a fundraiser for kids. They could use cute little flower crowns.
Karen nodded with a grin. “Please do. They’re gonna go crazy. Shit, let me make my own.” She quickly grabbed a couple flowers. Foggy laughed, grabbing more flowers of his own. He made crowns of a lot of different flowers, smiling as he did.
After a few moments of silence, Karen cleared her throat. “So… I gotta ask…”
Foggy grimaced. “No conversation starting with those words has ever gone well.”
Karen scoffed. “You don’t know that!” Foggy frowned at her. She sighed.
“It’s about the Devil.”
Foggy furrowed his brows. “What about him?”
“Well, you two seem to be pretty close.”
“…okay.”
“I’m just wondering exactly, uh,” she paused, biting her lip. “Exactly how close with him you want to be.”
Um.
Aha.
“What?” Foggy asked, his voice weak.
“Do you like him?”
“Karen-“
“Like, like like him?”
“Karen-”
“You do!“ Karen shrieked, slamming her hands on the counter.
Foggy threw his hands up. “Of course I do!”
Karen beamed brilliantly at him, pulling in a panicking Foggy for a hug. “Foggy!” She cooed.
Foggy groaned, rubbing his face with two hands. “I’m fucked.”
She winced sympathetically. “It may be a little difficult.”
Foggy needed to find a cliff to jump off of. “It’s impossible.”
“No!” Karen said forcefully. “It’s not, Foggy. I think he really likes you too.”
“I don’t even know his name, Karen.”
“Well,” she squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. “Maybe one day he’ll tell you.”
“What if he doesn’t?” Foggy said. “What if he never trusts me enough to let me in? What if he never wants me to know him? Maybe I’m just some guy he talks to at 2 am cause he’s bored. Hell, he’s probably taken. Some rich ass girlfriend with questionable morals probably snatched the guy up before a chump like me could-“
“Foggy, dude,” Karen interrupted. “You have to relax.” Foggy groaned. Again.
She rolled her eyes. “Foggy, he’s clearly lonely. And he clearly cares about you. You guys talk like you’ve known each other for years. Out of everyone in Hell’s Kitchen, you’re the one he keeps coming back to. Maybe you don’t know his name, but you’re still getting to know him. Just in an unconventional way.” She looked at him carefully. “Just like he’s getting to know you. You can still try, Foggy. If it’s what you want.”
Foggy clenched his jaw, He thought of the Devil. His kind smile, his gentle hands. That damned smirk. How much he cared. Foggy looked up to meet Karen’s gaze. “It is,” he said. “It is what I want.”
Karen smiled gently. “Oh Foggy.” He hugged her.
“I’m doomed.”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” she teased.
-
The Devil found him again that night, silently sitting down beside him.
“How was your day?” Foggy asked simply. The Devil’s chin tilted up in thought.
“It was good,” he replied, his face relaxing. “Now it is, at least.”
Foggy turned to look at him, raising a brow. “Oh?”
The Devil valiantly tried not to smile. “Yeah.” Foggy grinned, leaning in closer to him.
“I’m glad.”
The man chuckled softly, shaking his head. “How was yours?”
“Good,” Foggy said. “Me and Karen are gonna deliver our first big order this weekend. We’re really excited about it. Like, really excited.”
The Devil smiled. “That’s great.”
“I know! And the customer is super sweet. He even invited us to stick around if we wanted.”
He hummed. “Wow, that is sweet.”
“Uh huh. There’s even a slight chance that there’ll be karaoke.”
The Devil’s jaw dropped a bit, and he twitched. “Really.”
“Yup. Oh yeah,” Foggy laughed at his friends fidgeting. “You hate karaoke.”
“Foggy, it physically pains me to listen to.”
“It won’t when I do it!”
“You underestimate my dislike of karaoke.”
“Oh I’m so proving you wrong, asshole.”
The Devil laughed, ducking his head. “I’m sure you will.” Foggy rolled his eyes, nudging the man’s shoulder.
They sat in silence for awhile, listening to the sounds of the city. The Devil breathed evenly beside him. Apparently it was a quiet night. Foggy closed his eyes, taking in the presence of the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. He wanted to know him.
“What’s your favorite color?” Foggy asked. The man tilted his head. “Come on, I’m getting to know you.”
“You… really want to get to know me?”
“Of course I do,” Foggy said softly, meaning coating each one of his words. “Of course.”
The Devil took a breath. Well, if he didn’t want anything to do with Foggy, he could leave. Leave him in silence, let him down easy before anything can even begin. It would be okay. Surely. Foggy could fight through his newfound love for the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen and everything would be okay.
Just as Foggy was about to take back his question he heard-
“Red. I… I think it’s red.”
Thank fucking god.
Foggy grinned. “I like red.”
The Devil chuckled. “Haven’t really thought about it for a while.”
“Yeah, my favorite color used to change everyday when I was a kid,” Foggy said. “That was always the question we’d all get asked the first day of school. Mine always changed.”
“What is it now?” He asked.
“Well,” Foggy twisted his lips in thought. “You make a strong argument with red.”
He smiled, lines appearing from under his mask. “I can make a better argument than that.”
“Nah,” Foggy shrugged. “That’s all I need. Maybe tomorrow it’ll be yellow again.”
The Devil shook his head in laughter, fidgeting with his gloves. He was a fidgeter, Foggy had noticed. It was cute.
“I want to get to know you too, Foggy,” the Devil said softly. “But I… I don’t…”
Foggy waited as the man pursed his lips, trying to find his words.
“I guess I don’t know how,” he said finally, almost in defeat. “I’ll lose you. I don’t know if I can do that.”
“You’re… you’re not gonna lose me, dude,” Foggy said. What the hell was he talking about. He racked his brain… and..
Oh wait.
“Are you talking about how uh, everyone leaves you?”
The Devil grimaced. Damn it.
“I’m not leaving you, buddy,” Foggy said, turning in close to him. The Devil clenched his jaw, not meeting his jaw. “I’m not.”
“You can’t know that,” he said. Jesus.
“I’d know more than you!” Foggy said. “Can you read my mind? Come on, give me some evidence. Why would I ever leave you?”
“Everyone does,” the Devil practically spit out. “I-“
“Well, they’re fucking idiots,” Foggy interjected. No, this guy was hurt too many damn times for Foggy to let this shit slide.
“I don’t think most people would agree.”
“Do I look like most people?”
“I don’t know I can’t-“ The Devil stopped abruptly. “Uh.”
Foggy raised his eyebrows. The Devil sighed.
“I’m scared, Foggy,” he whispered. “I care about you. So much. And I’m scared.”
“I do too,” Foggy replied. “I care about you more than I ever thought I would. And I promise, I’m not just gonna bail on you.”
He let out a shaky breath. “You’re not lying.”
“‘Course I’m not,” Foggy said. The Devil grimaced, his face twisting.
Oh god.
He was crying.
Foggy grabbed him by the back of his neck, bringing his face into Foggy’s shoulder. The Devil responded slowly, softly grasping on to Foggy’s shirt. “Sorry,” he whispered.
“Uh uh, no apologies needed,” Foggy said, holding on to him tightly. “I’m a sympathy crier though, so if I start bawling, mind your business.” The Devil snorted through a sniffle, burying his face closer into Foggy.
“I want this,” the Devil said softly.
Foggy’s heart stuttered. Holy shit. “Me too.”
“I… I don’t know how good I’ll be,” he said. “I’m not good at, uh, being open.”
“That’s okay,” Foggy replied honestly. “Seriously, just take it step by step. Like your favorite color.”
He smiled, lifting his head up from Foggy’s shoulder, but he stayed close. “Yeah, okay.”
“Okay?” Foggy said hopefully.
He smirked, those lips taunting him. “Yeah. Okay.”
God. He wanted to kiss him.
That night, they learned each other's favorite songs (Foggy: So Much Better from Legally Blonde the musical. Devil: Baby Got Back, which is apparently some story that he couldn’t stop laughing enough to tell) their least favorite foods (Foggy: “fucking zucchini, man.” Devil: “Hot dogs” he said solemnly. “Or oranges.”) and their most embarrassing moments (Foggy: “When I was like 9 my family went to Disney and I cried cause Mickey was fucking terrifying.” Devil: “I got a concussion and tried to hug a robber into giving the money back.” “...Did it work.” “...no.”)
The night ended too soon, and the Devil held out a hand to help Foggy up. His hand was warm, Foggy noticed, as it held his own comfortably.
“Thanks for tonight,” Foggy said. The Devil tilted his head.
“Thank you, Foggy,” he replied in a whisper, so, so close to him. Foggy could lean in right now and-
The Devil stepped back.
Foggy flinched back in reflex. “Sorry! I’m-”
“No! No,” The Devil said. “I want to. Jesus, I want to. But you deserve better than some asshole in a mask.”
“Dude, come on, I thought we passed this-”
The Devil raised his chin, and Foggy quickly stopped talking.
“I mean,” the Devil began slowly. “I want you to know me before we uh, you know.”
Foggy grinned. “You mean, I’m going to actually get to meet you? Name and all?”
Holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit-
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe. If that’s what you want-”
“Yes, man. Of course I want that.”
He breathed out slowly. “Okay. Okay. I want you to be sure about this. And it uh, might take me a little bit.”
“Oh I’m sure,” Foggy smiled. “I already know you. And take as long as you need. I’m in no rush.”
The Devil smiled shakily. “Thank you Foggy.”
Foggy nodded. Wow.
Wow.
-
A few days later, Foggy pulled his van into the parking lot of Clinton Church, Karen sitting eager beside him. He had told her everything about that night. She was thrilled.
“I knew he was whipped,” she had said. Foggy couldn’t hide his grin.
“Okay,” Foggy said, putting the van into park. “Find Father Lantom first?” Karen nodded.
They climbed out of the van and walked into the fray. Nuns were everywhere setting up booths for the fundraiser. It was like a little fair that schools would put on, with cute little games and crafts for the kids and food and gifts to buy. Even kids from the orphanage were out helping set everything up. Karen was smiling beside him. “This looks fun,” she whispered as they strolled up to Father Lantom.
“Ah welcome!” He exclaimed upon seeing them, grasping Foggy’s shoulder enthusiastically. “It’s good to see you.”
Foggy smiled. “Glad to be here. Everything looks great, Father.”
Father Lantom nodded. “It’s the kids really. I just tried to get everything out here and they all laughed at me since I had no sense of ‘design.’” The kids closest to them started to giggle. Foggy stifled his own.
“Well, they did a great job,” Karen said.
“Do you need some help unloading?” Father Lantom asked.
“Oh, uh…” Foggy looked at Karen. She shrugged. “We’ll be okay.”
He waved them off. “Nonsense, I’ll send Matthew. He’s been getting antsy with the balloons, I think the kids are laughing at him too since he has a worse sense of design then me. I’ll send him over.”
Well okay then.
Foggy and Karen made their way back to the van, waiting on Matthew to join them. Foggy watched as Father Lantom made his way across the lawn and a man stepped out through the church doors, keeping his back to them. Father Lantom grabbed him by the shoulder. Must be Matthew, then.
As Father Lantom was talking to him, Matthew tilted his head.
…Huh.
Matthew spoke quickly to Father Lantom, grabbing something that leaned against the fence next to them. His hands quickly tightened around it, almost fidgeting.
Fidgeting.
Hm.
Foggy poked Karen in the shoulder.
“Does that guy seem familiar to you?” He asked. Karen turned to look at him.
She pursed her lips. “I’m not sure.”
Matthew was still squeezing the stick in his hands, speaking softly to Father Lantom. Foggy squinted.
Cane.
He was holding a cane.
And wearing sunglasses.
Blind!
But Foggy didn’t know anyone who’s blind.
The fuck.
“Maybe we shouldn’t stare at him,” Karen hissed.
Aw shit, good point Karen.
But Foggy could swear he knows this guy.
Matthew tilted his head. Again. Just like-
Oh my fucking god.
Foggy started jumping up and down, grabbing Karen’s arm like a maniac.
“Ow! Foggy, what?!” She said.
Foggy’s eyes drifted lower VERY RESPECTFULLY AND-
Yup. That was the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.
Matthew turned in their direction as he held onto Father Lantom’s arm, and they started to walk.
“It’s him it’s him it’s him,” Foggy hissed. Karen gave him an incredulous look. Matthew’s brow furrowed, his expression hidden behind his dark glasses. He was so pretty.
“What do you mean it’s him?” Karen whispered. “Foggy what are you-“
Foggy couldn’t contain his grin. This was really happening. “It’s-“
Matthew cleared his throat, stopping to stand in front of them.
“This is Matthew Murdock,” Father Lantom said.
“Matt,” The Devil, Matt, said, his hands squeezing his cane.
“Matt, this is Foggy and Karen. You’re our muscle for today, so you get to help move everything.”
Matt chuckled, shaking his head. “Sure.”
“Hello, Matt,” Foggy said. The Devil’s mouth parted a bit in hesitation. Karen scoffed, elbowing Foggy’s side.
“Hi, nice to meet you!” She said cheerfully. Matt smiled.
“Ah-“
“Well,” Father Lantom patted Matt’s shoulder. “You kids have fun. And please stay for karaoke.”
“You were serious about the karaoke?” Matt said. His voice was low, but not as raspy as when Foggy first met the Devil. His words felt precise.
“Oh of course,” Father Lantom replied seriously. “I don’t kid around about karaoke.”
Matt sighed as Lantom walked away, ducking his head.
Foggy grinned. “So.”
Matt’s eyebrows raised. “So.”
Karen rolled her eyes and huffed off to her damn job unlike somebody.
“I told you,” Foggy said, not paying attention to Karen. Matt stood tall in front of him with his head tilted down, cane held in front. His hair was fluffy, Foggy noticed.
“Told me what?” He asked softly, almost in a whisper.
“That I would know it was you,” Foggy replied.
Matt started to smile, his head tilting exactly how Foggy had grown to love. “Yeah, you did.”
“And it wasn’t even your ass, can you believe it? It was a nice way to uh, check my answer, just respectfully looking at your ass, you know?”
Matt laughed sharply. “Not really.”
…ahahahahha. Oh yeah.
Holy shit.
…Wait a minute.
Foggy gasped.
”You,” Foggy said angrily, pointing a finger into Matt’s chest. “Have made so many fucking blind jokes. I’m pointing my finger very furiously at you right now.”
Matt burst out laughing. “Finally! Maybe now you’ll appreciate them!”
“They’re awful!”
“They’re tasteful.”
“Oh my god.”
Matt was grinning wide, his eyes crinkling from behind his glasses perfectly. Then it dropped, just a bit. “I uh, I am actually blind, by the way.”
Foggy blinked. “Uh-“
Karen huffed from behind him. “Foggy, are you really gonna make me carry everything? We got like, a shit ton of flowers in there.”
“Karen!” Foggy said. He was going to go crazy if she didn’t figure it out right now.
Matt was just suppressing a laugh. Dick.
“Wouldn’t you say Matthew is looking particularly devilish today?” Foggy said, waggling his eyebrows. Matt snorted.
Karen blinked at him, unmoving. “I don’t think you should say that at a church, Foggy.”
Bruh.
“And you can usually flirt much better than this, what is up with you.”
BRUH.
Matt was full out laughing now, gripping his cane for dear life. Foggy shot him a useless glare.
“It’s fine, Karen,” Matt grinned. He ducked his head down, clearing his throat. “I, uh-“
“Oh!” She exclaimed, her eyes widening, looking back and forth between the two of them. “Holy shit. Devilish?”
“Language,” he smirked.
She gasped. “No way! You’re-“
He let out a breath, still facing down. “Yeah.”
“Foggy,” she said, laughing. “How did you know?”
“Honestly,” Foggy said with a shrug. “He kept tilting his head.”
“Do I really do that a lot?” Matt asked.
“Yes.”
“I’ve met you like once, and yes.”
Matt pouted.
“The ass helped,” Foggy said. Karen elbowed him in the side.
“So,” Karen said, eyeing Matt thoughtfully. “You’re…?”
He tensed a bit, but not enough for most to notice. Foggy did. “Yes, I’m blind. No light perception.”
Oh wow.
“Cool,” Karen said, a little awkwardly. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” he said with a smile. “But I think we should actually start getting those flowers before Father Lantom starts yelling at me.”
Great point.
The three of them went back and forth carrying bundles of flowers from the van and wherever Father Lantom wanted them. Whenever Foggy passed Matt they always had some kind of question or comment to make.
“Your parkour is like, really fucking good man,” Foggy said, peering around from the giant pile of roses he was holding.
“Thanks, a ninja taught me.”
“What the fuck.”
Next time around, Matt said, “These are nice flowers, usually they make me sneeze.”
Apparently he had like, super senses. It wasn’t just allergies.
“Oh shit!” Foggy said, dropping his last pile of flowers on the table. “You’re Matt Murdock!”
“Uh, yeah?”
“You got your peepers knocked out saving that old guy!”
“They-“ Matt laughed loudly. “They didn’t get knocked out.”
“Oh good,” Foggy said. “That would be, weird. No offense.”
Matt beamed. “No, no, people usually dance around me like I’m made of glass. I hate that.”
“Well, regardless of whether you're a weirdass ninja or not,” Foggy replied. “You’re just a guy, right? A really, really good looking guy.”
Foggy could see Matt holding back a smirk. “Oh, I wouldn’t know.”
Foggy groaned.
Karen kept rolling her eyes at the two of them, but they all got along spectacularly.
Father Lantom was just thrilled Matt was making friends.
The three of them helped decorate the area with flowers. This was not technically part of their jobs, but Foggy kept his mouth firmly shut about it and enthusiastically volunteered to help Matt. Karen rolled her eyes again.
“So,” Foggy said as he walked side by side with Matt, away from any other people. “I know you were a little nervous about like, telling me stuff and I hope you aren’t mad about how we found out-”
“Not at all,” Matt interjected. From this angle, Foggy could almost see his eyes from behind his glasses. “I’m not sure when I would’ve been able to tell you. I don’t know if I would’ve been able to on my own. Maybe this was uh, God giving me a little push.”
Foggy smiled. “Well, I’m really glad I know you. I knew you before, obviously, but it’s nice to have something to call you other than ‘Devil.’”
“Aw, Bartholomew was starting to grow on me.”
“How could I forget about Bartholomew!”
Matt laughed, his eyes crinkling. “You know, I’ve never laughed this much until I met you.”
“I knew I should have been a comedian,” Foggy said casually, trying to brush off the emotions he was feeling.
Matt chuckled. “You just, uh. You make me happy.”
Foggy’s mouth widened in surprise. That… that… damn it, Matt.
“I-”
“Boys!” Father Lantom shouted. “I could use some help over here with the karaoke!”
Matt sighed. “Well, we shouldn’t keep him waiting.”
“I thought you hated karaoke?” Foggy asked.
“Oh, it’s terrible,” Matt said casually. “But I know you like it, so, come on.”
Foggy could cry.
He skipped a little bit to catch up to Matt, walking side by side with him. He couldn’t stop smiling, watching the kids run around them, some holding Foggy’s flowers.
“Hey Matt?”
Matt raised his brows in question.
Foggy grinned. “You want a flower crown?”
Matt’s mouth opened in surprise. “I have wanted nothing more in my life.”
-
At the end of the day, Foggy and Karen climbed in their van, exhausted. Father Lantom waved to them from the front door of the church, Matt smiling beside him, flower crown still fixed on his head. Foggy smiled back.
“You really like him, huh?” Karen said.
“Yeah,” Foggy said, not looking away. “I do.”
—
A couple days passed, and Foggy hadn’t heard from Matt. He didn’t have his number or anything, so he didn’t expect to, but. You know. He missed him. Foggy swept the floor diligently, Karen already gone for the day and him just about to close. Until the bell above the entrance chimed.
He sighed.
“Hey!” Foggy said, a little tiredly. “We're actually just about to close, but you’re free to come back tomorrow-”
“Oh?” Matt said from where he stood in the store's entrance. “My apologies, I must not have seen the sign-”
“Matt!” Foggy exclaimed, straightening. “You’re here!”
Matt grinned, holding his cane in front of him. “I am. I wanted to ask you something.”
“Shoot,” Foggy said, coming around the counter to stand in front of him.
Matt bit his lip in an uncharacteristic display of shyness. “How do you feel about going on a date? With me?”
“Fuck yes.”
Matt perked up. “Really?”
“Yes, Matt!” Foggy said grinning from ear to ear. “Yes! Right now?”
“Right now,” Matt said softly. Foggy started bouncing on his feet.
“Lead the way,” Foggy said.
Matt smiled. “If I tell you the way, could I uh, take your arm?”
“Oh but of course, good sir,” Foggy replied, holding out his arm. Matt took it gently, taking them outside of the shop, and Foggy locked the door behind him.
Matt took him across Hell’s Kitchen until they were at the door of an apartment building. “I hope this isn’t lame, but I was hoping I could uh, make you dinner? It might not be great but, I’d like to.”
Well. That sounded perfect. Foggy told him just that.
Matt took Foggy inside of his apartment, leaning his cane against the wall by the door. Foggy made his way inside, looking around at the rather large apartment for Hell’s Kitchen.
“Nice mood lighting you got here,” Foggy said, as the billboard through the window lit the space pink.
Matt chuckled as he made his way into the kitchen. “Right, yeah. That thing got me a hell of a discount.”
“Even better,” Foggy grinned. He watched Matt hold his hand out and bump it into the counter, then started to feel for his ingredients.
Matt made Foggy spaghetti. It was so fucking sweet.
“I don’t really know how to cook a lot of things,” Matt said once he finished, placing Foggy’s plate down on the table. Foggy pulled it towards him.
“Nah man, this is great. The height of cuisine.”
Matt smiled. “I used to make it for my dad, trying to surprise him.”
“That’s adorable. I used to make cookies for my parents, and they would all disappear so quickly,” Foggy replied. “I thought it was because I was just that good of a baker, but I’m pretty sure they were getting thrown out.”
Matt laughed loudly, sitting down with his own food. They ate for awhile, talking about anything.
“My mom wanted me to be a butcher,” Foggy said wistfully.
“Really?”
“Yeah, I think she just wanted free ham. Though when I was little, I wanted to be a lawyer.”
“Oh yeah? That’s… hm.” Matt was grinning. Why was he grinning.
“What?”
“I am a lawyer.”
Foggy slammed his hands down on the table. “No way.”
Matt grinned. “Yep.”
“Damn it Murdock, you’re so fucking hot.”
Matt laughed, tilting his head back.
The night went on, the sun set and Hell’s Kitchen got dark. Foggy knew what that meant.
“So,” Foggy said as Matt stood up with a determined set to his jaw. “Time to suit up in your pajamas to whoop some ass?”
“They’re-” Matt chuckled. “They’re not pajamas.”
“False.”
“And anyway,” Matt said, moving into his room, Foggy following closely behind. “I’ve uh, actually been in the process of getting a better outfit. If I show up with anymore stab wounds I think my nurse is gonna stab me herself.”
“Well, good for her!” Foggy said. Matt stuck out his tongue, moving to his closest and easily opening a case on the floor. “At least you have a nurse, I guess. So what’s the new costume gonna be?”
“Okay, firstly, not a costume. I think I prefer ‘suit’-”
“Costume.”
“And I already have it.” Matt stood, holding something bundled in his arms. He turned around, unfolding it, and-
Boy.
“Horns,” Foggy said dryly, quite possibly in shock, he wasn’t sure yet. Matt was giggling, the bastard.
“I think it will give me a frightening silhouette.”
“You’re insane, you know that right?” Foggy asked.
“Yeah,” Matt said, feeling the fabric in his hands. “Yeah, I know.”
Foggy rolled his eyes, a smile forming on his face. “Whatever, you gonna be safe tonight?”
“I’ll do my best,” Matt said sincerely. And that’s how it was going to have to be, Foggy knew. There was no stopping Matt, he understood that. And that was okay. Foggy loved him anyway.
“Can I wait for you?” Foggy asked. “Make sure you get home safe?”
Matt tilted his head, his eyebrows furrowing. “You don’t have to, I want you to get some sleep-”
“I want to wait for you,” Foggy replied honestly. “I don’t think I’m gonna be able to sleep anyway.”
Matt bit the inside of his cheek, pulling his suit on. Foggy could see this one was going to be much safer than his old stuff, even if it was ridiculous. As Matt held the mask in his hands he said, “Yeah. You can wait for me.”
Foggy nodded. “Great. I’ll be here. Stay safe, Matt.”
Matt stood still for a second, fidgeting with the mask. He set his jaw, pulling the mask on. Okay. In all honesty, it was a little scary. His eyes looked completely red, and if Matt did his freaky smiling through blood thing Foggy might just collapse in fear. Or possibly horniness. Hush.
Matt grabbed his batons, placing them in their little holster thing. Foggy didn’t know the vocab okay, don’t judge. Matt made to leave, about to go up to the roof when he stopped.
He took a breath, and with determination he moved until his face was right in front of Foggy’s.
Then Matt placed a hand on Foggy’s cheek. Oh my god.
Matt hesitated. “Can I…?”
“Yes.”
And Matt kissed him. He pulled him in so intensely, but once their lips met it was soft. Matt cradled his face delicately, and Foggy tugged him closer by his shoulders.
Matt pulled away slowly, savoring it. “I’ll be safe,” he whispered. And Foggy believed him.
Foggy smiled.
In the next few days, Matt was in the paper again. Not as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen anymore, no. He was Daredevil. Foggy knew it suited him, and no matter what Matt said, he knew Matt liked it better.
Foggy got to see him everyday, made sure he wasn’t being too much of an idiot out there. Karen got to see him too, he was in fact a frequent customer of their shop. After their job at the Church, Father Lantom recommended them to everyone. And everyone liked Father Lantom, so.
Money, baby.
Matt had his own little law firm that he ran by himself. He did mostly pro bono work, which was a little tough for him but god, did Hell’s Kitchen love him. They would never let his firm close. Karen also volunteered to help him out, and Foggy couldn’t be happier.
Him and Matt were happy together. Foggy sang his show tunes, Matt told Foggy all his Thurgood Marshall facts, Foggy got him to smell his flowers, and Matt got to tell him all the gossip he heard around Hell’s Kitchen.
He really heard a lot.
Foggy loved him. And he told him, all the time. Matt took a little bit to say it, but Foggy understood. He had gotten the basics of the Matt Murdock backstory. Damn that shit was rough.
But one night, Foggy was waiting on Matt to come home. He was blasting Six the musical, performing every part flawlessly, he would say, when he realized Matt was there, just sitting on the floor. His mask was off, his head tilted with a soft smile on his face.
Foggy jumped, holding a hand to his chest. “Jeez Matt, how long have you been sitting there-”
“I love you,” Matt said softly.
Foggy gaped, his eyes widening. “What?”
Matt didn’t move. “I love you,” he said. No glasses, no mask. Just Matt. As open as he could be. Telling Foggy he loved him.
Foggy was crying. “Matt.”
Next thing he knew, they were hugging. And he never wanted to let him go.