Thanks for the feedback so far. Like I said, I'm still working on getting back in the swing, and I appreciate any reviews.

Daredevil is a trademark of Marvel, and therefore Disney. Don't sue me.

"Foggy," the mechanical voice at my bedside chirps, "Foggy, Foggy." These days I could count on one hand the mornings my partner actually let me wake up to my programmed alarm. No, it was the voice each morning, the empty voice of my "handicapable" cellphone chirping away. On the mornings I chanced to have company, fewer and further between lately, they would often wonder why my morning alarm was a weather alert. It rarely fails to bring a smile to my face, much like the attorney in question.

I usually try not to let it get past the third or fourth ring, but last night was a long one, and my muscles are stiff, and the call rolls over to voicemail before I can reach the phone. Foggy hates leaving voicemail. Sure enough, a few seconds later the phone is buzzing in my hand. "Foggy," the voice repeats, no more or less urgent than before, "Foggy."

"Foggy," I repeat after the machine as I answer the call.

There is an edge to Foggy's voice when he speaks, the same edge it always carries when he has to call me a second time. "Matt, you okay?" What he really means is 'Matt, did you fall down the stairs? Did you cut your throat shaving? Did some awful blind-person thing happen to you?'

Foggy was well-intentioned and, overall, usually pretty moderate in his concerns, but they chafed all the same. His anxiety weighed like an anchor around my neck, with only two ways to cut the cord, neither terribly appealing. I could either walk away from Foggy, like Stick always told me, or I could tell him the truth.

I'd had my opportunities throughout the years. When we were young, still in college, I almost told him about my plans, my abilities, a dozen times. When we started working together as interns, started talking about starting a firm together, I should have said something. I could've told him at any time, but everytime I got close, something held me back.

Anyway, at the moment, I preferred the anchor. "Yeah, don't worry about it. Phone must've gotten knocked under the table last night. I just had a little trouble finding it." My lies always sound so lame to my ears, even after hearty approval from my brain.

And Foggy can always see right through me. "Uh-huh," he replies perfunctorily.

"What?" I ask, trying to feign innocence and failing again even to convince myself.

"What's her name?"

It always goes back to sex with him. I roll my eyes, even though no one can tell. Least of all me. "No, Foggy, there is no 'her'."

"Come on, Murdock! Okay, you don't have to tell me. No, come on, I'd tell you." He sounds petulant, like an angry child who has been denied the candy at the checkout register of a supermarket.

A strong bile rises in my throat as I continue, asking playfully, "Come on, Foggy, when have I lied to you?"

Foggy pretends to think about it as he passes the police station. I can hear the cops on the other side, two of them, talking about a recent abduction. I file the information away for later use as Foggy decides to trust me. The knife in my gut turns as my best friend applauds my honesty. I should really tell him.

But I can't.

I clunckily change the subject, partially to drown out my own guilt, partially for the sake of the modesty and shame that Catholicism has burned into my brain. Don't talk about sex, said the nun all Catholics carry inside us, brandishing her ruler from the depths of my memory.

"Why did you really call, Foggy?" A simple, fair question he can't exactly get out of.

His belabored sigh sounds tinny through my phone's speaker. "If you're just getting up, which, by the way, is it's own problem." My friend waits for an apology that won't be coming.

I snort, pulling my way into what I'm almost positive is a blue dress shirt. "Come on, Foggy, you're not at the office yet, either." It's difficult to tell one color of shirt from another when the world looks draped in fire, which is why I had Foggy help me mark the buttons when I bought them, back when we'd been roommates. He had insisted on taking me shopping because he had the idea in his head that I might need help. Now every time I touch the lowest button, the one which indicates the color, I'm reminded not of my handicap, but of a friend's care.

I can sense Foggy's frown as he speaks. "How do you know I'm not in the office?"

I smile, glad at finally not having to lie. "Unless we have a couple dozen clients I'm not aware of, our office doesn't sound like a street corner."

My partner waits a moment to answer. "Look, I have something to tell you, but you're not gonna like it."

Icy adrenaline immediately starts to pump through my veins as I cross the room, now fully dressed, to reclaim my phone. "What happened. Is Karen okay? Did someone make another move on her apartment?"

Foggy's embarrassment could be heard over the line by anyone. "No, nothing like that. It's just...," he begins, floundering for words.

"Just what, Foggy?" I ask finally, trying not to sound too stern, while at the same time juggling a fight or flight response which demands answer. I can feel my muscles shaking in anticipation of...something. Action, preferably, but something.

After another long pause, I can hear Foggy making up his mind. "Look, you're not going to like this, but as your friend, I'm not letting you say no. With all this crazy shit going on in the city...I just can't stand the idea of something happening to you, Matt. So I'm taking you home at night from now until whenever they catch this psycho."

Part of me wants to chide Foggy for his lack of faith in me, but the rest of me just wants to laugh in relief. He'd built such a head of steam for himself, though, that it's hard to refuse him. Foggy definitely won't be deterred for anything other than a very good reason. A reason I have, but can't use.

I can feel the rope tugging against my neck as the anchor line draws taught in Foggy's direction. His concern is choking me, but I have no other options. No other viable options. "Sure, Foggy. Whatever you say."

Reviews are appreciated. Last chapter should be up sometime this week.