Maybe The Sun's Light Will Be Dim

Karen came to him bringing flowers, a get well balloon, and red eyes. The smile she gave him was strained as her eyes took in every bruise and nick, settling on the splint covering his left wrist.

Before she collected herself and came to the bed with a smile that spoke of relief, she knew that however bad off he currently was that it could always have been worse. Matt ended his vigil perched at Foggy’s bedside to greet Karen with a small hug and collected the gifts.

Karen stepped forward, biting her lip as she tried to judge what part of Foggy was actually ok to touch. It sent a pang through Foggy’s heart and he lifted his right arm as high as he could, “Don’t leave a guy hanging Kare.”

Karen gave a choked chuckle but wasted no time in taking Foggy up for a hug. Her body was awkwardly hovering over his, knees bent, arms draped over him like a loose blanket, but her head was next to his.

Blonde hair tickling his neck and every exhale echoed in his ear. Foggy was mindful of the IV as he returned the embrace with one arm. It should have been an awkward and a borderline terrible hug, but it was from Karen which automatically increased any hug value by eighty percent.

Foggy wanted to keep his shit on lock for the two of them but tears managed to creep out anyways, as did the shuddering breath that had Karen’s own breathing hitch.

“We’re going to find them, Foggy. Nail their ass to the wall.”

It was Karen’s, ‘I can and will kick someone’s ass with bat’ voice and it sent a bloom of warmth through Foggy’s chest. Matt was overt in his protectiveness but Karen could be just as vicious with her need to protect, just as willing to bare her teeth and fight when it came to her family.

When she withdrew her lips were a thin line and her face promised to bring retribution to all those involved, Foggy was once again overwhelmed by gratitude that she was one of his best friends.

“Work?”

His voice broke and Matt left the corner of the room he had claimed as his to loom during the hug to bring Foggy a cup of water. As he sipped, slow sips he had learned his lesson well with gulping, Karen brushed aside her hair.

“Well until further notice the office of Nelson, Murdock and Page is closed. I let all of our clients know that we’ll be with them as soon as we can, and as a side note your fridge and freezer physically can not hold any more food.”

Foggy raised an eyebrow, “You told them?”

“I told them you were in the hospital and that Matt was with you, I should also mention that on another note the countertops can open their own flower shop. I’ll throw away the dead ones before you come home.”

The Deluach case filtered into Foggy’s mind, they were going against their landlords and couldn’t wait for however long it would take Foggy to heal enough for Matt to be comfortable leaving him.

Unless.

He glanced over at Matt then back at Karen with raised brows. A silent question if he could convince Matt to leave the room long enough to handle their more pressing cases.

Karen’s eyebrows shot up and she glanced meaningfully at Matt, who was straightening his back in preparation to shoot down any Foggy said.

“The Deluach tenement case, I’ll bring over the files and we’ll start tackling it from here.”

Matt smiled as he became more relaxed, “Thank you Karen.”

A nurse came in smiling and greeting the room's occupants before going to Foggy’s IV and adding whatever pain killer they’ve been dosing him with. Foggy could feel it and grinned at the nurse, “angel.”

She chuckled and left to go complete her rounds as Foggy floated back to Karen, “I sound like a old timey gangster. Hey there doll face.”

Karen laughed and looked at Matt who was chuckling, “High Foggy is something different to behold.”

And behold she did.

With the slow easing off of heavier pain medication, Foggy could officially think coherent thoughts. They still floated around but the threads connected to form a loosely knitted blanket that Foggy was happy to use.

However with the decrease of dosages Foggy was slowly beginning to feel his injuries more. Matt could tell, his knuckles would turn white with how hard he clenched his hand every time Foggy couldn’t suppress a whine of pain when he moved wrong.

Now that he was thinking more clearly, Doctor Newton decided it was time to go through his list of injuries.

Concussion from his head getting slammed into the table, fractured wrist he remembered it being grabbed but didn't think it hurt bad enough to warrant anything other than a cast, dislocated shoulder that he definitely didn’t remember happening, severe bruising along his torso from the knee pushing down on him, with minor bruising littering his back, a minor sprained ankle from it being grabbed and used to drag him, damage to the throat and windpipe he remembered every detail on that injury perfectly.

Matt was tense at his side, each new injury causing him to twitch just barely, which did strike Foggy as odd. Matt would have had a full diagnosis long before the medical professionals, yet each word seemed to hit him as a new reveal.

Maybe it was different to hear it from someone else, Doctor Newton was kind and her voice was gentle but clear. Matt was taking in every word, memorizing everything she said and that was good.

Foggy was listening, was hearing every word, could remember how he got most of the injuries, but he was disconnected as he went through them.

A metal plate was held in by screws because the bones of his wrist had splintered. They had drilled holes into his bones to hold everything together and you can’t take it all out later, his uncle had almost the same thing done to his ankle years ago and it still gave him problems.

Foggy wanted to ask if it was really necessary, if they could have just tried a cast first instead of something that can never be removed. It was childish so he didn’t, they wouldn’t have done it if it wasn’t needed and Matt wouldn’t have let them if he had any doubts.

Dr. Newton was talking about how long it would take to heal the more serious of the injuries, but it was as if he was watching a doctor from a show talking to the camera instead of the patient. She was talking about good physical therapists that Foggy would need to start seeing as soon as she gave him the go ahead.

So that he could use his hand and it wouldn't atrophy, apparently they would play that whole arm by ear because of the dislocated shoulder.

Dr. Newton could have been talking about the weather and it would have registered the same way, but she was talking about warning signs now. Warning signs that Foggy needs to know so he can hop skip to the hospital if they show up.

Some blood in his urine because his kidney was bruised wasn’t cause for immediate concern but if it was red and painful- she continued but Foggy didn’t hear her. That sentence felt like the wind up to a punchline and somehow Foggy wanted to laugh.

Peeing blood was no reason to be worried, it just meant his kidney got bruised while he was floundering on his back like a flipped over turtle. Maybe he did laugh, or snort because Dr. Newton had stopped talking, and was looking at him with a worried brow.

Foggy didn’t want to look over at Matt, didn’t want to see whatever face he wore or how tight his shoulders were. A low ringing had begun and Foggy felt bad for interrupting her, she had spent years to become a very good doctor who had probably been in debt for at least a decade to get that title.

She gave him a tight smile, “We can talk about this in more detail after you’ve rested.”

With that she nodded and walked out, probably making a beeline to get a psychiatrist's number. God that would be hard to explain. ‘Hey doc, wanna know how I got this cast? My vigilante boyfriend got mind controlled and-‘

Foggy’s chest felt tight and the hand that was glued to his squeezed.

“Foggy?”

Tears burned his eyes and trying to shake his head hurt, everything hurt and he just wanted to go home. A small voice told him that home would be worse, that walking through the living room would be a nightmare each time.

His throat hurt and the tears made it worse, Matt had gone still next to him.

Then he was releasing Foggy’s hand, kicking off his shoes and placing his glasses carefully on the chair. Matt pulled down the side rail, Foggy didn’t bother trying to question how Matt knew where the latches were.

Then Matt was crawling in the bed, which was far too small to house the pair but Matt was determined and nothing could stop him when he got like that. Foggy painfully shuffled over, they had shared a far to small dorm bed in the past and it always had required careful maneuvering.

Foggy had just barely shifted when Matt made a noise, which to Foggy’s strung out brain sounded suspiciously like a growl, “Don’t. I can manage.”

Somehow he did, Matt was laying next to him, knee brushing against Foggy’s leg and chin atop Foggy’s head. Matt did allow Foggy to shift closer, to press his body as close to Matt as the awkward positioning allowed.

Matt buried his nose in Foggy’s hair, another reminder that the first thing Foggy was doing when he was home would shower until the water went freezing. Matt minded, Foggy knew the smell was affecting him but Matt would pull out a tooth with bare fingers before admitting discomfort when Foggy was laid out.

Questions began buzzing; How long had Foggy been here? Has Matt left the room at all, or had he just asked someone to bring him a washcloth, clothes and a razor? Visiting hours meant nothing to a vigilante who could just crawl in and out of a window in time with rotations.

They were solid questions, and when Foggy felt less tired he would ask them. Along with the rosary thing, that would be brought up at some point. Matt’s hand ran over Foggy’s shoulder feather light, a warning where the appendage was headed.

Sure enough Matt’s hand splayed out over his chest, even though Foggy knew that Matt was listening with rapt attention to every groan and sound Foggy’s body was making. Which was still something Foggy had mixed feelings about.

Sometimes it was embarrassing beyond belief and other times, like now, it was almost comforting if not for the fact Matt was blaming himself for every groan his bones and organs made after being hit.

What the doctor said hit him, but before he could go down that rabbit hole Matt pressed closer. Contorting his limbs just a bit more to further press more firmly against Foggy.

“How are you even on the bed?”

It was a rasp, the kind even three pack a day smokers could never reach, but he could feel Matt smile against his hair.

“I’m pretty good at balancing.”

Foggy scoffed, “'Pretty good at balancing’ my ass, Mr. Ninja gymnast.”

Matts chuckle vibrated pleasantly through his chest making Foggy tilt his head into the sturdy chest just a bit more. His neck was twinging at the position but he would take a kinked neck if it meant staying in Matt’s arms like this.

Foggy also accepted that his throat would be hell later and his voice would be gone tomorrow, but it was worth it for this semblance of peace. It wasn’t the most comfortable cuddle there was but God Foggy reveled in the warmth surrounding his right side, the rise and fall of the chest pressed against him was a lifeline to block out the electronic beeps of his heart rate.

Matt was sniffing his hair, the man would deny it and claim he was just breathing deeply, but Foggy knew when he was being sniffed. Matt was probably trying to find a scent that wasn’t the chemically created sterility, or whatever god awful stale sweat stench Foggy was coated in.

Honestly he wouldn’t blame Matt if the man wore a gas mask when getting close.

“What are you thinking?”

Matt had moved his head so Foggy’s very normal ears could understand, “I smell awful. I don’t even need a good nose to know that. That clean off did nothing to scrub away the terrible skin smell.”

Matt made a noise of disagreement, “You don’t smell awful, you just smell like sweat.”

Foggy stared at Matt’s chest, “Bud that’s hardly what most people would call a pleasant scent.”

Matt shrugged as well as he could, “It’s you. And it’s better than, you know, everything else.”

That made sense, years of dealing with Foggy’s sweat would be easier to deal with than the chemicals. It brought back a similar conversation, they were laying the way they were now just a few weeks after getting together.

“Does it get annoying?”

Matt gave a noise of confusion so Foggy continued, “Hearts. The beating. You said you can ignore it but you also like to sleep with your head on my chest and are always listening to it. Sounds like it would get-“

“No. No, your heartbeat could never be annoying. It’s steadying, helps drown out everything else. Everything about you is steadying; the way you smell, talk, laugh and especially your heart.”

Matt chuckled, “Sometimes it’s the only thing that keeps me steady.”

Foggy had patted his cheek to offset how his heart swelled at the admission, “I love you too Matty.”

Some of what he said rushed over and Foggy felt immediately self conscious, “Smell?”

Foggy could appreciate good smells. Fresh baked pastries and other heavenly food, Matt’s cologne or Karen's perfume. However he knew that humans as a general rule did not always smell like roses and that was with his very normal non enhanced nose.

Never in his life had he cursed his very human non appealing smells, God the summer must be hell for Matt. Matt for his part squeezed Foggy closer and buried his nose in Foggy’s hair, his words coming out muffled but comprehensible.

"You smell like Foggy, which happens to be my favorite scent.”

Foggy wanted to ask more, what exactly he smelled like but after a moment of consideration didn’t. He knew what Matt smelled like, it was a whole mixture of things and pheromones that Foggy would never be able to describe other than saying Matt smelled like Matt.

“Well that’s good. It would suck if chanel 5 was your all time favorite scent, I could never afford to douse myself in that everyday.”

Foggy could practically feel Matt wrinkling his nose at the perfume and chuckled, when Matt pinched his side in retaliation Foggy tried to roll away only to be trapped by muscular arms.

Doctor Newton's warning suddenly stuck out, and with it came preemptive embracement.

“Matty, you're not going to sniff my pee.”

Matt chuckled at that, “I won’t.”

A small silence stretched as Foggy waited for Matt to finish.

“But if I smell blood-”

Foggy groaned, “Matty. I promise I’ll tell you if The Shining is occurring. Bunch of blood is bad and hospital time, little bit means my kidneys are just pissed.”

The joke had Foggy’s chest tight and Matt going stiff next to him, the hand over his heart gripping the thin nightgown in a death hold.

“Bad joke, sorry.”

Matt visibly forced his grip to loosen, “Don’t-don’t apologize, not for anything.”

It was silent between the two, Foggy wanted to fill the air with stories and ideas because Foggy was not meant to exist in silence.

“The Riker case. I think we should push for a trial, get Kathy on the stand.”

Either the beeping was getting to Matt or he felt the same way about the silence, but he did his absolute best to ramble. Switching from the case to what a couple was talking about a floor above them, the gossip mill of Metro General. It was sweet, and Foggy hummed when needed to keep the man talking.

Matt really did have a nice voice, and the way his breath disturbed Foggy’s hair put him at ease. Sleep once again beckoned him and Foggy fought it off bravely before succumbing to it when Matt’s voice went just a shade more soothing.

Brett stared down at Foggy’s injuries the way everyone else had and Foggy was beginning to feel like a zoo animal under their gazes. It didn’t help that he had rasped out a statement that had Brett’s eyes narrow in suspension while the rest of him screamed pure disbelief.

Matt was back in his chair slouched like a gargoyle, one hand holding Foggy’s and the other white knuckling his cane.

“So let me get this straight. Someone wearing a mask broke into your apartment while Matt was out”, Brett looked at his notepad purely for effect, “At Fogwell’s.”

He looked at Foggy who nodded as Matt threatened to break his cane one handed.

“This person crept into your apartment without any signs of forced entry, and attacked you without any warning or reasoning. And Luke Cage, who just happened to be in Hell’s Kitchen, decided to drop by. Where he then beat off the attacker, who had absolutely no identifying marks or features and never spoke a word. Then he called Ms. Claire Temple for medical advice instead of 911, which she ended up calling anyway.”

Brett crossed his arms, “Sound about right?”

Foggy nodded and swallowed painfully, Matt’s hand was now loose in his hold. Foggy had used his hard won lawyering skills to use half truths and omissions in order to get around the human polygraph sitting next to him but Brett was kicking up hornet nests that Matt was bound to have already been thinking of.

The story was shaky, and would collapse the minute someone started knocking against it and everyone in the room knew it. If Foggy were firing on all four cylinders he could have created a better one. One that didn’t have Brett staring him down creating different theories about how the Defenders were involved, and why Foggy would lie about the attack.

A story that didn’t have Matt worrying his jaw, trying to hear every word not spoken's truth. Brett spared a glance at Matt and looked behind himself for prying ears before putting his notes away.

“This right here is off the record because I need answers. Was it really just one person? Or is it a gang? New players or old names? Do I have a crazy cult to watch out for now because goddamn ninja’s weren't enough?”

Foggy prayed it wasn’t a cult, but he knew only a fraction more than Brett did.

“I only saw one person.”

Brett looked close to snapping and Foggy knew he would be crowding around Daredevil the moment he had the chance. For all their barbs and enemy talk, Brett was always in Foggy’s corner and he’d be taking this personally.

Maybe this was a good time to see if Brett had heard anything about people having sudden shifts in personality, or anything that might point the way of mind control. Though if he asked, Matt would go from suspicious to manic in a moment and his questions would be a lot less calm.

“Nelson, I know you’re holding back. I don’t know why, but whatever you're involved with is obviously more dangerous than you think. Do you have any idea how bad this could have gone?”

Foggy was going to retort with something truly eloquent and befitting of a Columbia cum laude graduate who went on to be a professional lawyer.

Yet the moment he tried to speak his throat, which had been steadily shooting pangs of pain, became sandpaper scraping against itself. The coughing fit was hell, tears springing to his eyes as he hunched inwards and panic began to form over a lack of immediate oxygen. He tasted blood in his mouth and felt his heart pick up just a tick more.

The end of the fit had him blinking through a tunnel at the tilting room as his brain tried to claw its way out of his skull. His head was resting against something sturdy that moved under his ear.

Oh, that was Matt’s sturdy chest, and Matt’s strong arms wrapped around him to keep him upright.

“I think that's enough questioning for now, Sergeant Mahoney.”

For all that Matt’s anger raged like fire, his words could be like ice.

Brett looked torn but sighed, “Foggy, whatever you need, let me know. And please, just try to stay out of danger. Mom would never let me hear the end of it if you died under my watch.”

Poor Bess was always blamed when Brett showed his worry over Foggy, granted she did ask about Foggy every time Brett called her if Matt’s eavesdropping was to be believed. To be fair his mom asked about Brett and Matt every time they talked so it evened out.

Brett placed a hand over his blanketed foot and squeezed, “Heal up Foggy.”

With that he turned his attention to Matt, “Keep an eye on him.”

Foggy could see the moment Brett caught his words, and in lighter scenarios Matt would grin and joke.

“I’ll stay close to him. I won’t let anything else happen to him.”

Brett nodded and his shoulders lost their tension, “I’ll let you know if I find anything, Foggy call me if you remember anything else.”

Matt was still stiff beside him even after the door closed and they were alone. He knew something was wrong, that there were missing pieces that would not be given to him easily. Matt was stubborn, he would dig until his hands were torn to pieces and still keep going until he found what he was looking for.

That drive was something Foggy loved and hated about him. Right now he hated that drive even though he understood it all too well.

He felt it too, a burning rage towards whoever did this to them. Foggy wanted to know everything about them but mostly how, knowing how made it possible to stop them.

Break their jaw if it was verbal, hands if it was physical and Foggy wasn’t usually one for excess violence but he didn’t care how messed up they got. They hurt Matt, are continuing to hurt Matt and the pain would only get worse.