Purgatory

“Okay so you're trying to tell me that the Tony Stark decided to take me in, because Jessica asked him to?” Matt shook his head in disbelief. That made no sense, at all! Why would a billionaire, who also happened to be a genius want to help him?? Obviously he already had, considering the vigilante was sitting in a bed in the Med-bay of Stark Tower, with all of his wounds carefully stitched up and wrapped in bandages, but still.

“Well, I guess she didn't exactly ask him nicely, but it worked!?” Foggy shrugged. This whole thing wasn't any less surreal to him than it was to Matt, but Foggy had helped organize it. He, at least, had a faint idea of what was going on. A really really faint idea.

“And what's gonna happen now??”

“Um … maybe-”

“Maybe,” Tony said, as he entered the room, a cheeky grin on his face at the surprised expressions of the two other men. “maybe you should just ask.”

“Oh my god, hi Mr. Stark.” Foggy would later say he didn't blush, but Matt would grin and say he'd been a very nice shade of tomato, to which the blond would retorted that Matt was blind and wasn't allowed to judge. Matt would then say that he would've felt the heat radiating from his friend from twenty feet away. “Uuh hi.”

Stark gave the blond another smile, then he turned to Matt. He was still sitting in bed, fidgeting with the sheets, head cocked, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. “Hi.”

“So. You're Tony Stark.” Matt raised an eyebrow.

“And you're that red vigilante.”, Tony quipped back.

“Red? I'd rather describe myself as dashingly good-looking.” For some reason, it felt only natural to bicker – read: flirt – with the genius. It wasn't awkward or forced or anything. It was just … right.

“... that's true, too.” Tony stared at the smirking man before him, who, surprisingly, stared right back. A staring contest with a – somewhat – blind man. This was gonna be fun, Tony decided. Definitely a lot of fun.

Both men ignored Foggy's choking, which then turned into coughing and finally an embarrassed clearing of his throat. “So what's gonna happen now? After you stopped flirting?”, he eventually said with an annoyed look at his friend.

Which led Matt into choking on thin air. “Right.”, he said, after he'd caught himself, a faint blush on his cheeks. “He's right. What's gonna happen now?”

“Well.” Tony managed not to let any of his current feelings show. Not even how right Foggy had been about the flirting part. “We gotta talk to the press, talk to an army of lawyers and make sure your friends won't get hurt by bad people.”

“Sounds like a reasonable thing to do.” Matt nodded. Then he shot Foggy a worried look, anxiety shooting through his body. “Do you think people will wanna send me to prison?”

“I … I don't know.”, the lawyer answered honestly.

Tony took a step closer to the bed, a smile on his lips. “Not if you're an Avenger.”

For a second it was very quiet in the room. Then Matt started laughing. It wasn't a very happy laugh. It was joyless and dry and kind of bitter. “Nobody would believe that, Stark.”, he said with a chuckle.

“And why's that?”

“Cause I'm a criminal.” He lowered his head. Then he looked up again with a strained smirk. “I'm a vigilante. I hurt people and people are scared of me. I tried – I tried to do good, tried to help. But in the end, nothing can change the fact that I'm no better than the criminals I beat up every night.”

“Gee, your guilt complex is nearly as bad as mine.” The genius smirked, once again ignoring Foggy, who rolled his eyes at the two. “But you know, everybody will love you, once they find out you're with us. I mean they even like Natasha and she's a spy with dubious background. And you didn't even kill people. Intentionally.”

“Great.”

“I'm serious. Besides, you're cute. And by that I mean” He gestured at Matt. “smoking.”

“...thanks?”

“Hey can we talk about what's actually gonna happen now??”, Foggy interrupted them. “Like … what are we supposed to do now? What am I supposed to do now?”

“Well, Murdock-boy is gonna stay with us, obviously, and I guess you can stay, too. Unless you wanna go back to your own place.”

“I'd love to stay, really, I do, but I got a job to go to. I got clients who need me and I can't just abandon them.”

“Sure. I'll have Happy drive you, then. When do you wanna leave?”

“I don't know.” Foggy looked at Matt. “I mean there's no use in going to the firm now, so...”

“You should go, Foggy.” It's not like they were real friends anymore, anyway. “You gotta tell the others what's happened and to take care of themselves.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Sure.”

Truth be told, he didn't exactly want him to go, but it would be selfish to keep him here. Matt wasn't important enough for Foggy to spend all this time with him. It was only fair that he left. Besides, he'd left a long time ago anyway. He was probably only here in the first place, because he'd felt something like an obligation to his broken ex-best friend.

So now he left. Left, with a squeeze of Matt's arm and a nod to Stark. To be honest, if he hadn't been this tired and relieved that Matt wasn't dead and also scared of what was gonna happen next, he probably would have lost his shit over being in the same room with a certain billionaire. An Avenger to be precise.

Matt managed not to lose his battle with his emotions until the door closed behind the blond lawyer. Then he lost royally.

He couldn't believe that this was how they were now. That he was only talking to Foggy if it was an emergency, that he wasn't important to Foggy anymore, that Foggy had left his life. He was angry with him, so angry that he'd just left, that he hadn't fought more! Angry with himself for just letting it happen. And he was so sad, too, the feeling of his hurting heart nearly ripping him apart. He had lost his best friend, his brother, and there was no going back to where they'd come from.

He was alone now.

Tony was kind enough not to comment on Matt's small outburst and instead only patted the vigilante's shoulder with what he hoped was a reassuring huff.

Eventually Matt dried his silent tears and sniffled quietly. “Sorry.”

“It's okay. Nothing I ain't seen before.” He shrugged. “Or experienced.”

“Still.” The lawyer gave the genius a small smile. “Anyway. When can I get out of this … medical facility?”

“Dude, you've been buried under a building!” Tony had to keep from gaping at the other man, who didn't even seem to understand why that was worrying. “That was yesterday! And now you wanna get up again??”

“I don't just want to lay around doing nothing.” Matt frowned. “Am … am I even allowed to leave?”

“Yeah. I mean, yes you are, but like you've refused any kind of pain killers and I kind of doubt you'd be physically able to even get out of bed.”

The vigilante huffed out a soft chuckle. “You underestimate my stubbornness, Stark.”

“So you're trying to tell me that you could get up right now??”

“I will, if that means I can leave this room.”

Tony crossed his arms in front of his chest, one eyebrow nearly disappearing into his hairline with how hard he was raising it. “I have a room prepared for you on the 92nd floor. I mean that floor is a second common floor, but we mostly use the 93rd floor for that. So you'll probably have the 92nd for yourself.”

“What floor are we on now?”

“82nd. The elevators are fast, though.” The mechanic frowned. “You sure you're up to that?”

“If I want to, yes.”

“... fine.”

“Fine.” Matt let out a sigh. He shouldn't have said anything. He was hurting – a lot – and even his head was pounding and he just wanted to go home, lay down in his bed and wrap himself up in his silk-sheets. He didn't think Stark had silk-sheets. Or maybe he did, but probably just in his own oversized bed. It would probably be impolite to ask for some.

But for now he had to get up and somehow make it to the elevator. Terrific. Well then, first things first. Feet to the floor. He could do that, easy. Matt sat up, using both elbows and then both hands for support. He slowly managed to untangle his feet from the rough blanket and put them on the cold floor, the suddenness of it sending a shiver through him. Though maybe that was a good thing. If he got lucky, the cold would distract him from the pain everywhere else. He also discovered that he was wearing nothing but a hospital gown, but he couldn't find it in him to care about it. By the time he was sitting upright on the edge of the bed, he was out of breath and his ribcage was burning. Also he ascertained that he had a long gash on his left forearm near the elbow, closed with about ten stitches.

When Matt was finally ready to get up and walk, his legs felt like jelly, even though they weren't shaking. Which Tony found impressive, yet he kept close to the lawyer, ready to catch him in case he lost his balance.

But he didn't. Matt just kept going, ignored the pain in his legs and his stomach and his ribs, ignored the headache that had gotten so strong that it got difficult to concentrate on navigating through the room and just. Kept. Going. Although that didn't mean he didn't nearly collapse at least three times, but the only indication of that was his panting that got harder.

Then, finally, he reached the open elevator and stumbled inside, leaning against the wall in utter exhaustion. He was sweating like crazy and his heart was beating so fast, Matt feared it might jump out of his chest any moment. At least standing wasn't as draining as walking.

Tony was staring at the other man in astonishment for the whole time. There was no way he was able to pull this off. He was practically looking like he'd been dipped into bruises, he was panting and looked very pale, yet he didn't stop. Didn't even grimace. His face was a single, unmoving mask. Sure, his eyebrows were drawn together in concentration and probably pain and his lips were pressed tightly together while his eyes were wide open, but he gave no indication of actual distress.

And then the billionaire wondered how many times the vigilante had gone out in a state similar to this. Sure, obviously not as bad as now, but in the same state of mind, his body battered and injured, his mind tired. How had he survived all those nights when the news had announced that Daredevil had been seen stumbling away from a beating in obvious pain and then half an hour later he showed up two blocks south, fighting off another three thugs at once?

He really was stubborn, wasn't he?

“Okay that's it, you don't have to prove anything to me.”, Stark announced, just as they stepped out of the lift; the lawyer had now taken on the colour of ash. “Let me help you.” He went to put an arm around Murdock's waist, but the younger man held up a hand, keeping distance between them.

“I'm fine.”, he panted. He didn't need help. Shouldn't need it, anyway. “Besides. It's not much farther, right?”

“You look like a ghost.”, Tony grumbled, but he pointed at a door a few feet away. “Just a little more.”

Matt nodded. He never would have said it, but he had no idea what the room he was in looked like. His senses had abandoned him minutes ago, so he was incredibly thankful for the direction the mechanic had given him.

Unfortunately, his strength gave out just as he reached the door. Tony saw the other one stumbling and quickly held him up at his waist, gently steering him to the bed. Matt had gone nearly completely limp by the time he was lowered onto the mattress and only seconds later he was out like a light.

Tony chuckled softly at the sight of the very handsome man, laying on his back, breathing slow and deep, though even in his sleep, Matt was frowning. Only every so slightly, but it was there.

The genius pulled up the blanket over the lawyer and patted his shoulder before quietly leaving the room behind with one last look.

How could a man look this sad, while in the most peaceful state there was?