"Eww, what IS that?" Matt asks.
"This is a $12 coffee. But I'm pretty sure there's not much in the way of actual coffee in it. Its all syrups and flavour shots and stuff."
"And you're going to drink that?" he asks, disgust clearly in his tone.
"Hell no, this is bribery coffee. Come on, the place is just up ahead."
Foggy leads the way 'til they reach their destination.
"It's a pet shop?" Matt asks before they head in.
"Yes, and this is going to blow your mind," he says, getting the door.
Foggy greets the store worker he'd met with yesterday. He hands over her ridiculous coffee, pleased to see her face light up. She takes them towards the back of the shop, past colourful birds in cages and tanks with mice running in their wheels, to a quiet corner. On the table is a glass tank. There's two stools against it that are thankfully tall enough that Matt will actually be able to sit on one without the agony of levering himself up afterwards. Changing positions is still torturous. He seems most comfortable standing straight up but its not realistic to maintain that position all the time.
"So come check out these turtles," Foggy says excitedly.
Matt leans closer, it would appear like he's trying to get a better look to a casual observer.
"Those are tortoises," Matt informs him.
"How?"
"Turtles live in water. Tortoises live in … whatever that stuff is. Dry land anyway."
Of course the academic and technical knowledge is there. This is exactly how Matt fools everyone. He'll know everything around a subject but be missing key details – a deficit a casual observer might not notice.
"Okay yes, they're tortoises. But pretty much the same thing. And come to think of it those videos of them flipping their buddies were not in water so maybe this is what I meant in the first place anyway. Krissy said we can hold them as long as we're careful not to drop them."
Matt looks unsure. "Do they bite?"
"You have a chest full of bruised and broken ribs and you're afraid of getting bit by a tiny turtle?"
"Not afraid," Matt grumbles. "And they're tortoises." He reaches in the tank and carefully scoops up one of the little animals. The tortoise doesn't seem to care, just tries to walk off Matt's hand. He sets it down gently on the table top then reaches into the tank for some of the food it had been eating. The little tortoise goes back to happily munching, uncaring as Matt starts examining it. He starts by gently running a single finger along the back of it shell. Foggy almost tells him there's probably no need to be that gentle with the animal, doesn't think it can feel anything on the top of its shell, but he doesn't want to interrupt. Slowly and delicately Matt feels around the animal paying particular attention to where its legs meet its body/shell. Maybe it tickles or something because the tortoise jerks his leg back, tucking the limb in protectively.
"You didn't hurt it, that's what they normally do."
"Yeah, I know," Matt says, fingers following the leg in, feeling how its been drawn up tightly.
"Did you ever have a pet, Matt?" Foggy asks, pretty sure of the answer.
"No, never."
Matt had never shown any real inclination towards animals that Foggy can remember but between his previous short term obsession with the pizza rat and this sudden interest in turtles it seemed like something worth asking about.
"Do you want one?"
"No," he said without any hesitation. "I don't want anything with a heartbeat in my apartment."
Okay well, that was pretty clear. So maybe he'd be willing to share his space with a houseplant some day?
Watching Matt being as soft and delicate in his touches as he can, Foggy realized maybe now was a good time to bring up Brett's phone call. There's also the advantage that Matt is very unlikely to throw a shit fit in the middle of a public store.
"So Brett called me last week," he starts aiming for nonchalant.
"Uh huh."
"I think he's figured out who you are."
Matt stiffens, pulls his hand away from the little tortoise.
"Is that going to be a problem?"
Naturally, he didn't expect Matt to be pleased by this development.
"I don't think so. He was talking like Daredevil is our client. I think that's how he wants to play this. I guess there's a chance its what he thinks but I doubt it."
"Okay," Matt says, going back to slowly running one fingertip along the edges of the tortoise's shell.
"So he wanted me to get a message to our so-called client."
"That being?"
"He wants you to tone it down a bit."
"Tone it down?" Matt asks, his tone is cold, not so much questioning as inviting Foggy to continue speaking and say the wrong thing.
"He wants you to do less damage. I think his exact words were its easier to question a suspect when they're missing a few teeth rather than trying to speak through a broken jaw. He thinks the police are going to be a lot less sympathetic towards Daredevil if perps keep getting really seriously injured."
"I don't think they're sympathetic to what I do as it is," he points out.
"Brett would disagree. And you have to admit the police could definitely make your job a whole lot worse if they were actively trying to catch you or stop you."
"They get what they deserve, Foggy," Matt says darkly. "I'm not hitting innocent people out there. It's not necessarily getting worse, its just that now they know its always been me."
"Okay yeah, they probably do deserve an ass kicking. I'm definitely not remarking on WHO you go after. But do they deserve injuries so severe they end up with lifelong problems from it?"
"I don't decide how their injuries affect them," Matt says rather dismissively.
"No, but you do decide how severe they are. Brett says they're getting worse. Do I need to be worried about you? About how you're handling things?"
"I don't know, do you?" Matt snarks like he's intentionally trying to piss Foggy off.
Foggy thinks back to when he asked Maggie why she was so harsh with Matt. She'd looked him square in the eye and said, "Because that's what he responds to." At the time he'd been horrified by her answer. It wasn't that she was wrong, there just seemed like a lot better ways to approach Matt, especially given what a shit show most of his life had been, how he'd been treated over the years.
"You need to do what Brett said. You need to dial it back. When they hit the ground you NEED to STOP HITTING. What's happening lately, that can't continue … for everyone's sake," Foggy says as firmly and clearly as he can manage.
Matt says nothing. He scoops up the little tortoise and gently places it back into the tank with its buddy.
"Can you handle that?" Foggy asks, stealing Maggie's ability to make a question sound very much like a command. He's seen how Matt often bristles at being ordered around by other people but hopes he's the exception, that the message coming from his best friend is more positively received.
"Yes."
"And are you GOING to do that?" Foggy asks, tone softening without his permission.
Matt sits there silently, face unreadable. Finally he says, "Yes. I will do that. I'm not saying nobody's getting hurt."
"I wouldn't presume to tell you how to do your job," Foggy says despite that fact that he had, in fact, just done exactly that.
"I'll be more careful, I'll stop sooner."
"Good!" Foggy says brightly, trying to break some of the intense tension that has been brewing around them. He reaches into the tank. "Now let's flip one over and see what happens."
The tortoises obediently spend the rest of the afternoon taking turns righting each other after being flipped over. Matt fully understands what Foggy meant before when he'd joked about Matt being stuck like a turtle on its back needing a friend to help him out. And Foggy's pretty sure Matt now understands some other things as well.