Anything recognizable is the property of the appropriate owners. I do not make any claim to ownership, nor do I make any money from this.

Note: I have not seen past Season 2, Episode 5: Kinbaku.


Foggy groaned through the throbbing in the back of his head and tried to get his bearings. The last thing he remembered was waving goodnight to Karen from his office, but now one wrist was handcuffed to a pipe and everything tasted like copper pennies. Shakily, the blond lawyer pushed his long hair out of his face and looked around. He recognized that he was likely in one of the many abandoned warehouses lining the river and shifted to sit more comfortably. Nelson forced any panic down like Matt had taught him and tried to remember more, who had taken him, or why; anything that could help.

The vague certainty that this was all according to plan didn't really make him feel any better, but it shook loose a couple of memories of talking to Matt about drawing out the boss that had moved in after Fisk had been taken down. So he had dangled himself like bait, talking about DareDevil in public, long nights alone at the office, ignoring the thugs tailing him around Hell's Kitchen until they finally made their move. At least he knew Matt had to be close by.

What was the strangest thing was the fact that he was apparently alone, however. The thugs hadn't bothered to keep guard on the lawyer, probably assuming that he wasn't particularly dangerous, for which they were correct. But wouldn't it make more sense for the baddies to, you know, watch the bait in their trap? Foggy decided he didn't particularly feel like being the bait any more if they weren't at least going to try to do this like professionals, so he felt around his wrist and found the handcuff loose enough he could probably slip his hand out. Some creative curse words and a promise to give up donuts for like a month got Foggy free, minus some skin and then everything went wrong.

Foggy couldn't make sense of the visual and auditory stimulus that exploded around him. It was like living in a disco ball. The darkness must have been hiding some serious flood lights and speakers because they all went off at the same time, blaring discordant songs that overlapped and effectively multiplied the noise until even the blond man was having trouble focusing. Something cast a shadow over Foggy's face and he squinted into the bright lights to recognize DareDevil's outline kneeling on the ground, holding his head. He kept his own hands pressed over his ears and tried to reach his friend as Murdock fell sideways, but Nelson had to back away as Matt writhed in pain on the filthy floor.

The portly lawyer knew better than to approach DareDevil when he was confused and in pain, having earned a few good wallops while trying to patch him up in the past, so he ran towards the nearest floodlight, hoping to find the source of the debilitating noise. Unfortunately, the thugs that had previously been missing were conveniently hiding behind the bank of lights, waiting for their trap to further incapacitate the masked vigilante. Foggy tried to abruptly change his direction towards what he thought was a pile of speakers, but momentum and an unfortunately located chunk of wood sent him sprawling to the ground.

There was shouting and firework bursts of blunt pain as the thugs started kicking and beating the lawyer still resolutely inching his way towards what was definitely the source of the noise. Foggy pulled the plug on the cobbled together sound bank and gasped as he was plunged unceremoniously into relative quiet. If felt like his ears were going to pop under pressure, and the men who had been beating him immediately turned towards the bigger threat, DareDevil. Nelson groaned and curled in on his battered ribs, fortunately not hearing any crunching. But he did hear something worse, much worse.

Matt shrieking in agony.

Foggy heaved himself to his feet with strength he didn't even know he had, especially since his body was loudly voicing its disagreement, but he had to get to Matt. Once on his feet, the blond man tucked his head and squared his shoulders how his brother had shown him back in high school and sprinted into the pack of ruffians. He inanely counted five, one less than a six-pack before he barreled into one of the thugs. The man and Foggy hit the floor in a heap, something that wasn't Nelson gave a wet crack and he knew that was one down.

Uncoordinated and running purely on fear and rage, Foggy scrambled back to his feet to swing wildly at the next man while the third got too close to Matt. DareDevil lashed out, practically clawing his way up the man's leg to strike him three times in his soft belly. Nelson ducked under a punch and tucked his shoulder again, trying, and succeeding, to drive his assailant to the ground. The masked man swiveled his head trying to make sense of what Foggy knew to be a jumbled mess of his finely attuned senses. That was 3 down, two left to go.

Number four tried to follow through on his assignment to end DareDevil, unfortunately for him, Matt wasn't entirely incapacitated. The blind man had definitely been rattled by the auditory attack, his world on fire reduced to barely glowing embers, but violence was always loud enough to hear. Murdock avoided all but the last swing, absorbing the punch and turning the momentum to his advantage, striking out with one of his sticks to the temple. Pausing long enough to catch his breath and make sure none of their attackers were thinking about getting up anytime soon, Matt searched with all of his remaining senses for his partner.

Foggy lurched forward when he recognized the gun pointed at him by the last thug. All his slightly concussed brain could think of was doing everything in his power to protect Matt. There's wasn't time to think or shout a warning to DareDevil, just act. Nelson stood tall and spread his arms to be a human shield for his friend. The gun bucked in the thug's hand, the muzzle flash barely visible backlit by the floodlights, and Foggy felt the lead wad impact his chest off center, over his heart and collapsed.

Matt saw red. Not the literal red flames he tended to perceive every day, but pure unadulterated fury when he heard the gun fire and felt the impact of Foggy's body on the warehouse floor. He didn't care about all the things he promised he wouldn't do as DareDevil, all that mattered was the Devil was out and looking for his due. The thug couldn't seem to get his finger back in the trigger as Matt stalked forwards, coiled panther grace, and deadly strength. Nor could the dead man walking seem to get his feet to move until he was struck by a brutal blow to the throat.

DareDevil continued to push the attack, striking at limbs and torso, driving him back still unable to draw breath through his crushed trachea. The thug fell, tripped backwards and hit the lights, extinguishing them and cloaking his own impending death in darkness. Only when the bad guy stopped struggling to breathe did Matt turn away. He searched blindly for Foggy's body, wondering how the other lawyer's heart could still be pumping. But it wasn't really, Nelson's heart was erratically slowing and the blind man didn't know what to do. He couldn't make out if there was blood through his gloves and his ears were still agony from the auditory attack. Murdock considered calling Claire, but he was losing Foggy's pulse, there wasn't time.

Time.

Something snapped inside DareDevil where he knelt with his best friend quickly dying in his arms. There was nothing he could do. He failed. Failed to protect Foggy, failed to stop the newest threat to Hell's Kitchen.

Failed.

He was running blind, stumbling through the warehouse, bumping into walls, trying to leave behind the knowledge that he couldn't even keep the one person most important to him alive. But the fact intruded that Foggy was gone. And if he couldn't save him, what made him think he could save anyone else in this hellish city. Matt cried out wordlessly when he finally felt his way out of the warehouse and just kept running.

Running.

Then he wasn't running any more, nothing mattered, no one would miss him and the frigid water that had closed over his head when he fell off the pier was as comforting as a warm blanket. Falling through the air to impact the river, falling away from Foggy's cooling corpse, falling.

Falling.

And right back to failure. DareDevil was a failure, but DareDevil wasn't really a person, only a person could fail. Matt failed. Matt wasn't enough. Fast enough, good enough. Maybe training more could have saved his friend, his partner. No, he was alone, cut off from all the senses, all he felt was burning cold and he wanted more of it, let it buoy him when nothing else mattered. Then everything went blacker than it had ever been and he was thankful.


Author's note: I doubt this would even be posted now without the encouragement of the lovely KarToon12. Thank you dear for prompting me to actually post this.