"Foggy. Foggy. Foggy. Foggy." Matt nearly ran to the phone, mind quickly calculating the quickest route to Foggy's apartment. For Foggy to be calling him after everything, his life must be on the line.

He picked up the phone. "Fog-"

"I am so mad at you right now," Foggy started, not even waiting for him to speak. "Like, there aren't even words." He stopped. Matt could hear his breathing, a very deliberate kind of even. "But you're still family, and so you're still coming to the Christmas party this weekend."

"Foggy... I can't." As much as he would desperately love to come, to try and fix things with Foggy, it wasn't his place. Not anymore. Foggy was safer without him.

"Yes, you can, Matt, and you will." Foggy's voice sped up, his breathing no longer so even. "Just for one day, you are going to take a break from all the criminals, or ninjas, or... whatever you fight, and come and spend the day with my family and eat Aunt Ethel's terrible fruitcake, because it's Christmas, and they are your family too!"

There was a long pause. "Okay." He was almost surprised to be saying it. "I'll come. And I like Ethel's fruitcake."

Foggy's voice came through again, this time warmer than before. "I never understood how you could like that stuff." For a moment, it felt like nothing ever happened, like they were still best friends. Then, "Goodbye, Matt." The illusion was broken.

"Bye, Foggy," Matt murmured into the dial tone.

Foggy slid down beside him on the steps, denim scratching against wood. "So. You came."

"After that speech you gave I was afraid not to." He tried a smile. It didn't feel right on his face.

Silence, filled with all the things he didn't know how to say.

"You're still eating that stuff?"

"Aunty Ethel's fruitcake is the best." Matt took another bite, the flavours filling his mouth. It wasn't like the store bought ones, where everything tasted of packaging and chemicals. It was all homegrown and homemade, made perfectly just for this day. It was what he'd eaten most of the first time he came to the Nelson Christmas party, and it still tasted like home.

"Aunt Ethel's fruitcake is the terror of the holidays. It's the one tradition that happens every year, and we can't escape it. I swear, one year she wasn't even here, she was taking a holiday cruise, and her fruitcake still showed up!"

This time, the smile felt natural. "It's my favourite part of the holidays."

"I never knew that." Foggy's voice took on a bitter tinge. "I guess there's a lot of things I didn't know about you."

"Yeah. I guess there is." Matt took another bite of his fruitcake. It didn't taste as good this time.

Another silence, just as uncomfortable as the last.

"I don't like fruitcake," Foggy said meaningfully. Matt could hear his heartbeat pick up. "I think fruitcake is wrong, that it tastes gross. I would happily never have either of us eat fruitcake again. But I know it means something to you, something that I don't understand."

Matt nodded, heart in his throat. "I need it. I need to do that. To eat fruitcake," he corrected.

"So, maybe you should."

Matt took another bite of his fruitcake. This won't fix everything, he knows that, but it just might just be a start.