Matt reached a hand to the corridor wall to steady himself before heading into the office. Hot pain shot through his body from all directions and the world, though dark, refused to stop spinning. It was a particularly rough night and an even rougher morning, but he didn't want to be asked any questions so skipping work was out of the question

You can do this, Murdock, he swallowed heavily, his heartbeat near deafening in his own head. Just get to your desk, and everything will be fine.

He opened the door and immediately the room felt different than usual. Foggy and Karen were already there, each heartbeat faster than normal.

"Matt, you're here!"

"What's going on?" he said, kicking himself for skipping the usual greetings. So much for acting normal… "I mean, something's different, right?"

"Foggy and I thought it was time for a change in the office," Karen started eagerly as her heals clicked toward Matt. He tried not to wince as the sounds assaulted his already pounding head. "So we came in a bit early and rearranged all the furniture."

"Well…all the furniture might be a bit of a stretch. There isn't that much to move," Foggy chided, his tone playful.

"I hope you don't mind, Matt…Here, let me help you," Karen slipped her hand around his arm and tugged gently. His sluggish brain not expecting the gesture reflexively hissed as his arm burned. Karen immediately let go and jumped back a pace. "Shit! I'm sorry…are you alright?" She watched Matt's calculated movements as he reached to grab his arm.

"Just fine…"

"That didn't sound 'just fine', buddy. Did you trip taking out the trash again?" Foggy moved a few paces closer and instinctively reached out a hand to his friend. The concern from both of them was palpable to Matt as he tried to smile and shake it off. Shake them off. The morning was not going how he had planned it.

"Yeah, Fog, you know me," he said, shrugging his shoulders slightly. "I have to be more careful, I know."

"Matt, you really should have someone do that for you."

"You sound like Foggy now, Karen."

"Because Foggy is right, as always," Foggy said, matter-of-factly.

"Yeah…right," Matt jokingly frowned at his best friend who grabbed him by the other arm.

"C'mon smart ass, let me show you around."

Foggy led Matt around the room slowly, allowing him to touch everything in its new spot. Matt tried desperately to focus and not groan in pain each time he moved his injured arm to graze his hand over the furniture. Foggy's grip was too tight, Karen's new shampoo was too fragrant and the floor really needed to stop moving. He was so lost in his own head, trying to block out the pain and sensory noise of the room he didn't sense the change in his friends' emotions.

Karen and Foggy exchanged concerned glances. Foggy swore over and over again in his head, mad at himself for not watching his friend more closely. Matt was always so independent, he forgot that he did need help with some of the simplest things…but that he would never ask. Foggy bent forward as Matt reached for the placement of the trash can and jolted when he gasped loudly before clutching at his side. Quickly Matt tried to hide the pain and stood up, dropping his hand. The world was thrown in circles and Matt stumbled back a few steps his arms thrown out searching for something to hold. Foggy recovered in time to catch his friend before he hit the floor.

Matt cried out as Foggy's arms wrapped around his torso. Fresh waves of pain fired through his chest and he could barely hear Foggy and Karen calling his name. He felt cool metal on his arms and it took him longer than it should have to realize he was now in a chair.

"Matt!" Karen and Foggy were kneeling in front of him. His eyes danced vacantly around the room, void of their usual attempt at attentiveness. The two shared a frantic glance before returning their full attention to Matt.

"C'mon, Matty…hey, c'mon," Foggy coaxed, but all it got him was a limp hand placed on his shoulder. To him it was better than nothing. "That's it, buddy…C'mon Matt."

"Jesus, Foggy…look," Karen pulled the front of Matt's suit away from his body. The crisp shirt beneath had a growing scarlet stain.

"Jesus Christ, Matt. What kind of garbage were you taking out?" Foggy stared at the blood on his shirt. Shock prevented him from doing much of anything before Karen all but slapped him out of it.

"Foggy! Hold him!" Karen undid the bottom buttons of the shirt to reveal a deep gash and torn stitches. She cursed and reached around to the desk, not taking her eyes off Matt.

"Fog…gy…" Matt groaned and gripped his friend's arm. Hissing in pain, he leaned into Foggy's arm. "Christ…"

"I got you, buddy, you're okay," Foggy looked wildly at Karen who was pressing her phone to her ear. "Who are you call-"

"No, Karen…" Matt gasped and threw his hand in Karen's general direction. "No, no, stop."

"Matt, I'm calling an ambulance, stop," she scolded, holding his hand.

"No, please, Karen…No hospitals, please. Foggy," Matt's eyes searched for Foggy's exact location. "Foggy, c'mon please. No hospitals…You know…"

Foggy looked at Karen helplessly. He knew how much Matt hated hospitals, hell, he'd barely see a doctor. The last thing he wanted was to betray his friend's trust, but even more so, he didn't want to see him die.

"It'll be alright, Matt. They'll take care of you, you're okay." Matt tried to squirm away from both grasps. He could hear the dispatcher on the end of the line asking about the emergency.

"Not going…no hospitals…"

"Yes, he's really hurt…"

"You're going to be okay."

"Yes, he's conscious, but barely…"

"Foggy…no hospitals…"

"Our address is…"

"I've got you, Matt…"

"Foggy…you promised..."