Title comes from Isaiah 30:15
Church, for Matt, was supposed to be a safe haven. His solace. He didn't go anywhere near as often as he wanted to go and knew he should, but when he did manage to force himself to face the lord it was a very calming. Therapeutic.
Staying awake was getting more difficult after each day that passed. His nightmares were getting worse. He suspected it had to do with that nightmare he had where Foggy heard and came to his aide. The one the two of them pretended never happened. Ever since then his nightmares increased. Over Christmas break he spent his time mostly avoiding breakdowns and sleeping all while trying to come up with an excuse for why he packed his room up before break if he was just going to stay there anyways. He read over all of his books he needed to read for the new semester (being blind, sometimes, had it's perks: he had been allowed to get his booklist for classes early in order to be able to find the books in time. He found them rather quickly and got to work). He watched some of the TV shows and movies Foggy had recommended, even if he couldn't watch all of them since they didn't have an audio description. He did everything but sleeping, really.
After Christmas break, once Foggy came back, he started taking care of himself slightly more than he did when he was alone. He slept a tad bit more (though he limited the hours to prevent another nightmare for Foggy to witness), ate at least one actual meal a day as opposed to the quick bite to eat every few days he'd allow himself when the dizzy spells would start, and stopped laying in bed twenty hours of the day. He was still a nervous wreck, though. He was shaking and he knew Foggy noticed it because his heartbeat would increase. He continued his old nervous habits of rubbing fabric between his fingers and tapping out rhythms. He still wasn't eating as much as he should have been. He needed to insert control over his body, seeing as how the lack of control allowed Foggy a glimpse of all that he wanted to keep secret.
It wasn't hard to stay awake during church despite what many people would claim. He didn't find it tiring or boring in the slightest. It was more enlightening to him than anything else. What got to him was the walk to and from church. He was past the usual amount of time he allowed himself to stay awake. His senses would get cloudy after three or so days without any sleep. He was pushing five and would often find himself in little microsleeps where he'd doze off for a few seconds and miss part of the conversation or lecture he was listening to. He made a promise to himself to take a nap after church. His plan was to stop by his dorm, change into more comfortable clothes, and then go find a quiet study room in the library to nap in. If he slept in his own bed with Foggy so close, he couldn't assure himself that he'd wake up before the nightmares kicked in. If he was in a semi-public space, his sleep would be lighter and he'd wake up quicker. No nightmares, no disturbing Foggy. Win-win.
Despite his plans, he started zoning out on his walk home from church. He was as awake as someone who hasn't slept in almost five days (or maybe it passed the five days mark? He couldn't remember) could be but his mind still found itself wondering. He could hear everything within multiple blocks yet couldn't focus in on any of it. The same went for his other senses, as well. Everything was a buzz. There was a cloud somewhere in his mind. He felt his mind drifting and, even though he was technically awake, he had a scene flash in his mind as if it was a nightmare. Scattered sounds, flares of pain. He barely remembered to tighten his grip on his cane as he shook the memories away.
Matt was renewed with a new sense of awareness probably caused by the adrenaline running through his veins. Whatever his mind was trying to conjure up for him was not good news. He could already feel his chest tighten with the anxiety that accompanied nightmares, flashbacks, and bad memories. His new plan for the afternoon was to get to safety in his room, calm himself down in the bathroom, and then head out to the library for studying because he was not ready for sleep anymore. It took all of his self control not to run on his way back from his dorm. Not only would that draw attention (a blind man sprinting through the streets towards the school? Yeah, no), but it was winter. There was ice and snow covering the ground. Ice had always been an issue for him to navigate around. The snow threw the surrounding temperature off and muffled the vibrations. Oftentimes he could sense the fact that there was ice but he couldn't pinpoint it to the exactly location. He was a few inches off most of the time.
Despite having to walk, he still managed to make it to his dorm in a relatively shorter time than it took to get to the church. His hands shook too much to open his door and he stood there fumbling with the keys for a few moments too long before it opened from the inside. Foggy stepped aside as Matt all-but pushed him aside. Matt could hear his heartbeat increase and his breathing changed which suggested he wanted to say something, but Matt was not in a talking mood. He could feel his breaths coming in too fast and his senses were becoming disoriented as they usually did during a panic attack. He dropped his cane somewhere near his bed and tried not to sprint to their bathroom. Once the door was shut and locked, he fell to the floor in a panic.
Foggy watched Matt slam the bathroom door shut and only seconds later did he hear the quiet sobs. And quick breathing. He ran to the door and tried to open it only to realize it was locked. He listened to Matt panic for a moment, trying to suck in breath but failing miserably. Once the wheezing started, Foggy jumped back into action. "Matt, unlock the door," he said, trying not to show how scared he truly was. He figured if Matt was so worked up then hearing Foggy's own anxiety would only make things worse. ", unlock this door or I'm gonna have to break it down. You're having a panic attack. Let me in and I can help you." He heard no movement on the other side indicating whether or not his requests were acknowledged. "Matty. Please."
Matt heard Foggy's pleas somewhere through the fog. He knew what was happening. His mind was playing tricks on him, making him feel the pain of someone who was no longer there. He could even smell him and it was making him sick. But he could hear Foggy. He hadn't even known Foggy during his time of training. He focused on Foggy's voice, muffled by something that he identified as the door, as a way to pull himself from his flashback.
Just as Foggy decided enough was enough and went to look for something to break into the bathroom, he heard the click of the lock being undone. He wasted no time in throwing open the door, catching Matt before he fell back since he had been obviously leaning against it. "Matty, hey," he said softly, turning Matt around so they were facing each other. His glasses had fallen lower on his nose so he was able to see his eyes. One hand was over his mouth, trying to quiet the pants while his other was gripping his hair so tightly that it even hurt Foggy. He reached up to that hand first, gently undoing his fingers and setting it in Matt's lap before pulling his other hand away from his mouth. "Stop covering your mouth. That's only making it harder for you to get air in."
"Can't breathe," Matt gasped, though it took multiple intakes of air to get the full two words out.
"Lucky for you, I can," Foggy declared, placing the hand he was still holding of Matt's over his chest. He took a deliberately deep and slow breath. "Feel that? That's me breathing. I want you to focus on that and only that, okay? We'll get you breathing again in no time, buddy." He stopped talking for a moment to take a few more slow breaths and was pleasantly surprised to see Matt was making an actual attempt to do what he was told. For once. "See? Not too hard, is it? You're okay, Matty." Matt's eyes closed and he lowered his head but he kept his hand over Foggy's chest and continued to match his breathing.
Matt's hand stayed on Foggy's chest long after Matt's panic attack subsided but Foggy didn't say anything. Instead, he rested his hand over Matt's and waited to make sure the attack was completely over and done with. "Sorry," Matt said after nearly ten minutes of sitting in silence. He pulled his hand away and put it in his lap. "I didn't mean for you to-"
"Don't pull any of that, Matt," Foggy interrupted. "Don't apologize for letting me see you're human."
"...Thank you. For helping."
Foggy rolled his eyes even though Matt couldn't see it and pulled him into a tight hug. Matt stiffened and his breathing quickened fast enough to make Foggy worry that he had sent him into another panic attack but then his breathing returned to normal again. "You don't gotta thank me for that," he said, resting his cheek on top of Matt's head. "I understand you really, really hate talking about yourself. Like, you'd rather walk on hot rocks or something than talk about yourself and your feelings. But, I think you've been torturing yourself long enough with this, Matty, I really do. You've had moments since I've met you but none have been as bad as these last few weeks. First, that nightmare before break that you and I both know you remember, and the fact that you obviously didn't take care of yourself while I was away, and now you're not sleeping and you just came running into the room having a panic attack. Like, a full, honest-to-god panic attack. On the floor in the bathroom. And you just got back from church. You're usually so much calmer when you get back from church. Like, so calm I used to swear you smoked weed instead of chilling with Jesus. Something's going on, buddy, and if you don't want to talk to me about it, fine, but I really think you need to talk to someone about it."
Sometime during his little rant Matt had pulled away and was instead focusing his eyes somewhere on the floor. His mouth was drawn in a tight line and his fists were clenched in his hands. Foggy suspected his nails were digging into his palms. He worried that he overstepped some boundaries until, "I know I should, and sometimes I want to, but..." He stopped to take a deep breath and raised his head up to sorta look at Foggy. It was hard to tell with the glasses on, though. Their eyes probably weren't meeting. "Okay. Okay. I know I need to talk about this, and I know you want to help me, and I know I need help sometimes. But I don't think I can do it today. I've been awake way too long and it's not-"
"How long?"
"Five days? Six? I don't remember. My head's been messing with me after three and I've lost track. It's why I lost control just now. I was awake yet somehow I started dreaming and...that doesn't matter right now." Matt shook his head before reaching up to pull his sunglasses off. The bags under his eyes stood out against his pale skin. "I want to sleep the day away. I need sleep. I know I do. I was planning on going somewhere to get some sleep today anyways."
"If you need me to leave so you can sleep-"
"It's not that," Matt quickly cut in. "It's the...the nightmares. I don't want you to have to see one again if it happens but I'm not even going to consider letting you leave the room for that. If it happens I'll-I'll wake up, I think. I'll sleep today and tonight, most likely, and tomorrow we can order dinner - I'm paying this time - and I'll talk to you. A little bit. I'm not ready to dish everything out, but you keep seeing me like this and it's only fair for you to know why."
Foggy reached out to pull Matt's glasses out of his hands. He was folding and unfolding the arms as he spoke, probably out of nervousness or anxiousness. "I don't want you to tell me just because you think I should know."
Now, without his glasses to fiddle with, Matt began pulling on the fabric of his pants. Foggy allowed him. At least he wasn't trying to dig his nails into his hands or yank his hair out anymore. That was definitely something they would need to talk about at some point. "No, it's more than that, but...that's the only way I can justify it to myself," Matt said. Or mumbled. He mumbled that statement. "I can't start to think that I'm gonna talk to you because I want to talk to you about it or else I'll find a way to convince myself not to. So I'm gonna tell you because you deserve to know why you keeping finding me in compromising situations such as this. In case it happens again."
He'll allow that. "Okay, Matty. Five or six days no sleep? That's not cool. Let's get you to bed. C'mon, up you go." He pulled Matt to his feet and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Matt must have been tired or worn out or something because he leaned into his touch which he never really did while sober. He led him to his bed and sat him down before undoing his shoes and pushing him so he was laying down. He pulled the blanket up over Matt and gave him a smile he couldn't see but hopefully he could sense. "You get some sleep. I'll wake you if you have a nightmare. Hell, I'll squeeze in this bed of yours if I need to." He paused for a moment, debating on whether or not he should say what he was thinking. He went for it. "I don't know who hurt you, or who you dream about that hurts you, but you're okay here. You know that, right? You're okay here. And I may not have the strength of a blind guy I know, but I wouldn't let anybody hurt you. So think about that as you fall asleep. Maybe dream me up in much better shape than I am now. Have me fend off the bad guys in your head."
Foggy would give anything to make his best friend smile the way he did then every day. The world deserved to see more of a real Matt Murdock smile (and Foggy was happy to be the one who caused it). "I'll make sure to do that, Fog. Maybe put you in a suit of armor while I'm at it."