Disclaimer: I do not own Daredevil, nor any of its characters.
Heya, guys! It's... It's been a while. I don't think I've published anything in almost a year. Sorry! Life's got me really busy. Since I graduated high school last May, it's been workworkwork, volunteer workworkwork, and I actually have a social life now. Definitely different. So as you can imagine, I haven't had much time to write at all, much less write, ask someone to beta (thank you, captainozone, for beta'ing this, by the way), and publish. But I have thoroughly enjoyed each and every review I've gotten for all of my stories. I really, really appreciate them. And also every PM is cherished and (hopefully) replied to. I will try my hardest to reply to every review left here. I promise.
Anyway, this show has broken me. Matt and Foggy is my favorite bromance, as of now, so I couldn't resist writing this. I really, really hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this. The title of it comes from the song below, not because the song is sad, but because the song is beautiful and about seeing the truth and beauty in life. I would love to do a series of one-shots that follow this fic, but we'll see. Lastly, this is set probably about a week after the season one finale. After everything's settled down a bit.
Enjoy!
You taught me the courage of stars before you left.
How light carries on endlessly, even after death.
With shortness of breath, you explained the infinite.
How rare and beautiful it is to even exist.
-Saturn by Sleeping at Last-
It was dark when Foggy pushed against the door to his friend's apartment. Of course it was: Matt didn't need light. The young lawyer rolled his eyes at himself, shoving his keys into his pocket. He flicked the hallway light on, squinting at the dying bulb beside him. He'd have to replace that. For his sake, anyway.
"Matt?" he called tentatively. The wooden floors creaked under his feet as he walked into the living room, grating his already frayed nerves. Foggy prayed his friend hadn't already left yet. He needed to talk to him. Now. "Matt?"
"Up here, Fog."
The young man turned towards the stairs that lined the corner wall. The bottom step was still broken and splintered and... He'd have to fix that too. For Matt's sake. When he comes stumbling down the stairs after a long night out.
Or does he climb through the window?
He seemed to do that the night Foggy found the truth. When Matt, black mask and all, came stumbling out of his bedroom, bleeding, wounded, and... And dying.
Foggy's eyes were drawn to the blood stains in the carpet. He clearly remembered the heat of it, the filth of it, the feel of blood, Matt's blood, oozing over his fingers as he tried to save his best friend's life. Foggy had never lost someone close to him, but that night, he'd been awfully close to losing the best person he had in his life.
Hopping the first broken step, he shook his head. He couldn't think about that. He couldn't. Not tonight. He had to say what he came to say.
A slight breeze ruffled his hair when he climbed onto the roof, and Foggy narrowed his eyes. It was dusk, but he could still see plenty. He twisted around and saw Matt standing on the edge of the roof, toes hanging over the edge.
Foggy's heart skipped a beat before he remembered Matt's night job involved regularly parkouring off of tall buildings. Good grief. Rolling his eyes again, he released a breath he didn't know he was holding and climbed the rest of the way up.
Daredevil stood there on the ledge. Minus the mask. Matt was holding that in his hands. Foggy hadn't yet seen his new outfit. The armor, as Matt had called it. The suit was red and black. All dark. Tight. Wierd. It wasn't the kick-butt ninja armor he'd imagined, but the material looked sturdy enough, thick enough, to protect him, even a little. Maybe enough that Foggy wouldn't find him bleeding to death again.
"I didn't know you were coming," Matt apologized. "I would have left the light on."
Foggy took a few steps forward so that he was perpendicular to his friend. Beside him, but not on the ledge. Maybe "Daredevil" had been a fitting name. "'s okay. It needs a new bulb anyway."
The city looked different from up here. It wasn't all tall buildings and endless streets and busy people and pushing and shoving and taxis and car horns. It was smog and police sirens and city lights. The car horns were still there, but they were muted just a tad.
Matt could probably still hear them fine. Five blocks off.
Matthew jumped backwards off the ledge, landing cleanly beside his friend. Gravel crunched beneath his feet as he turned toward him. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah," he answered after a moment. Lamely. Foggy looked at his friend, truly looked. The dark bags under his eyes were gone. He could finally sleep now that Fisk was put away, thank goodness. He looked healthier. Stronger. Lighter, now that the weight of Hell's Kitchen was off his shoulders.
Happier.
"Matt... What... What do you see?"
The vigilante rewarded him with a genuine laugh. Foggy had missed that sound. "I can't see anything, remember? We've been over this."
"No!" Foggy grinned. He shook his head, but after a sobering moment, it faded, and he continued. "No, I mean... With your senses... What—what do you... 'see'?"
Matt's eyebrows rose in surprise, and he tilted his head. "Oh. Um..."
"I mean, you don't have to tell me," Foggy said nervously after a pregnant pause, "I just—"
"No, Fog, it's fine. I just have to... Let it all in first." Matt's eyes were unfocused, but still held the genuine surprise and... relief?... he felt from the question.
And so Foggy waited.
Matthew drew a long breath in through his nose. "A cart vender burnt his hot dogs two blocks away, but he's trying to hide it by smothering them with ketchup." He turned his head towards the west. "There was a car accident behind that building. Non fatal, but the driver's pissed. His fault, though. And two floors down, some teens are having a TV show marathon. Movie? I dunno. Lots of popcorn and carbonated drinks."
"How do you... How do you do that, Matty?"
The man's face softened at the childhood nickname. The corner of his mouth drew up into a smirk. "I just... I can smell the burnt hot dogs. I can hear the driver yelling at the other driver. I can hear the fizz of the old TV and the pop of the carbon. I can almost taste the extra butter they drizzled over the popcorn. It's..."
"Amazing," Foggy finished for him. After giving him a curious look, Matthew stayed silent, and waiting for his friend to continue. "Listen, Matt... You.. You have a gift. I—I see that now."
"Foggy, you don't have to—"
"I do, though. Please, just listen."
The vigilante nodded, running a hand through his hair. It was a habit he had when he got anxious. Foggy had picked up on it during college. But why would Matt nervous? Did he even know he does it?
It took Foggy another minute to realize that Matt probably thought he was here to condemn him and his actions. He was a criminal, after all. He thought his best friend was there to call him out. Did he think that Foggy was so disappointed in him? That he thought that little of what he did to try to help Hell's Kitchen?
So Foggy decided it would be best to start with: "I'm proud of you, Matty."
The young man inhaled sharply, and his gaze whipped towards him. Foggy's gut clenched. He had thought he was here to condemn him.
"What?" he breathed.
"I'm... I'm proud of you. I am. Seriously. And being completely honest here. This is honest Franklin Nelson telling you he's proud of you."
And Matt couldn't look more startled.
"I know what you do, Matt. What you've done. You didn't need to save those women. You didn't need to save that boy. You didn't have to help out Fisk away. You didn't need to do any of that, but you did. And I didn't understand why at first. All I saw was my friend, lying on the floor, literally in a pool of his own blood. And I—" His voice cracked. This was going to be harder than he thought. Foggy swallowed. "And I couldn't handle that. I couldn't see beyond that. I felt like... You were the only person I could always rely on. Who I thought would always be honest with me. And then... And I'm sorry, Matt. I should have known it was still you. Physically, of course. But... I should have known... That you were still... You."
"It's okay, Foggy. I'm... I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I didn't want you wrapped up in this. I didn't think anyone else would be hurt. I didn't want you to worry. I thought that it would be best if I... If I..."
"You never had to do this alone, Matt. I know you were trying to protect me, but you don't deserve to be alone. No one does. And now that I know about your secret identity..." He paused for breath, feeling himself shaking from nerves. This was the type of conversation they had in movies; now he was having it with his best friend. "You're not alone, Matty. You were never alone."
By this time, the younger man's breath had become uneven, and when Foggy finally turned to look at him, his eyes glistened with tears. Definitely a movie plot.
His voice was thick with emotion. "Thank you, Foggy."
"You're welcome. Not to say I won't be upset with you sometimes about it, but... I'm really proud of you."
A single tear fell from Matt's eye, and he quickly wiped it away, blushing. "Understandable."
"There's one more thing. Two more, actually."
"Yes?"
"You were wrong."
A tense pause.
"I was wrong about a lot of things; you'll have to be more specific."
The elder shoved his hands into his pockets. "You said you didn't think I trusted you. I do trust you, Matt. I do. I know you've lied to me before, but... I trust you. But I want you to promise me you'll tell me the truth about all of this from now on—what you do, when you're injured, what kind of beating you're taking. Okay?"
Foggy thought Matt might just start weeping at this point. "I promise, Foggy. I swear."
"And I need you to be a little more careful. I can't... I almost lost you that night." Memories, unbidden, came riding up again, and Foggy thought he might be sick. The blood. The pain in Matt's eyes. On his face. The screaming. "If I hadn't... If I hadn't come over that night, you would have died, Matty. I would have left messages on your phone and have eventually come over to find you'd bled out onto your carpet. I would never have known the real story. I would have found you in the Mask and... I don't know. I don't know, Matt. I wouldn't have known what to think. I wouldn't have understood... And you wouldn't have been there to explain any of it. And I... I can't get it out of my head. Seeing you dying. Imagining what it would be like if you had... I just... I need to know that you'll... try to be safe."
Matt was looking at him again. As much as he could, anyway. Eyes glistening and lips pressed together. More tears had fallen. Foggy's eyes were filled with tears, too.
Dang it.
"I'll try, Foggy. I really will. I don't... I don't want to die. I promise. I don't... I h-have actually thought about what it would do to you. I'm not... I don't want that, Foggy. I could never..."
"I know, Matty. I know. Just... Call me, okay? When you need someone. And don't go all Catholic on me either. When you are hurt, call me. I don't care what time it is. And... If you could... Text me or something when you go out. And when you get home okay... Or I'll worry my brains out."
"Foggy, you don't have—"
"No, Matt. You... You're my brother, for all intents and purposes. My mother has basically adopted you, for heaven's sake. Therefore, you're my brother, and I will worry my brains out."
"Okay."
The blonde lawyer turned to meet his friends eyes. "Just like that?"
"You're the only family I've got, Foggy... So... Just like that."
Foggy smiled, letting out a breath of relief. "Thank you, Matt. Seriously."
The young lawyer nodded briefly, and they lapsed into a comfortable silence. One that they'd grown used to over their years of friendship, one that came from being roommates, from studying in silence together, from searching the internet for information. One that spoke a thousand words without ever having a voice.
Until a woman's scream pierced through the air, loud enough that even Foggy heard it clearly. The vigilante looked towards his friend, as though asking permission, like a trained puppy.
"Go be a hero, Matty," Foggy said. "I'll be here waiting for you."
A smile pulled at Daredevil's lips as he slid the horned mask over his face. "Don't worry about leaving the light on." With that, he jumped off the roof and onto the fire escape, simultaneously making Foggy's heart jump with awe and fear. He swore under his breath and sighed, wondering if he should order in or get some actual groceries.
...Maybe wait 'til Matt's home and safe before he goes out.
Chinese, then.
And maybe he'd look into taking some First Aid classes.
Thank you so much for reading this! Have a good night! :)