WARNING: Matt has a panic attack in this brought on by claustrophobia and it describes the feeling of being trapped in a small space and describes him hyperventilating and hes also sedated so if this is going to make you uncomfortable or bring on a panic attack just skip it or at least be careful I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable or panicy. If you skip the panic stuff but want to read the rest just skip to the ... page break and read after that.

Matt hadn't liked the brain scans at all. Foggy had gone with him as long as he could but wasn't allowed in the room with him and couldn't obviously go in the machine with him. Matt was trying to be a cooperative patient for Claire but honestly he just wanted to go home. Claire had been there to put him in the machine for the brain scan, wheeling his chair in and guiding him to the long table that would slide into the machine.

She tucked a blanket around him and tapped his wrist, where his watch usually sat, and then tapped four of his fingers, paused, and tapped five. Her way of telling him it would take forty five minutes. She placed her hands on either side of his face and held his head still and in position. No moving. She kissed his cheek before leaving, the scent of her disappearing as she went.

Now there was just the piercing smell of disinfectants and Matt tried not to whine at how they stabbed at his nose. They were so sharp it hurt and he wanted desperately to cover his nose. Breathing through his mouth wasn't much better, he could taste the smells, often making him want to vomit. This was just one of the many reasons he didn't like hospitals. As soon as his hearing came back he would be jumping out of bed and going home.

He jumped in fright as the flat table he was lying on started moving. Though he couldn't see the machine he could feel the walls and ceiling pressing in on him as he slid in. It was as if he was a corpse being slid into one of those metal boxes in the walls of morgues, or into a coffin and being buried in the earth.

The vigilantes breathing started to grow desperate, his chest expanding as far as it could to get in oxygen. He knew he was hyperventilating but there didn't seem to be enough air, no matter how deeply he breathed there wasn't enough oxygen. Matt knew Claire wanted him to stay still but his hands fluttered in panic, reaching out to the walls of the machine around him ad trying to feel how much space he had.

It was so tight, such a small space and Matt thought he might have been making noises now. Little whines escaping as he tried to breathe. 'What's wrong with me? I don't get claustrophobic.' He knew he should meditate and calm down but lungs wouldn't obey.

Matt became so desperate to escape the tube that he began pushing against the walls and ceiling as if he could push them away from him. He was calling for Foggy and Claire now, begging to be let out. He couldn't do this.

The table beneath him started moving again, out of the machine, and Matt was sure he cried out in relief. His hands slid along the ceiling of the tube and finally met air when he was out. The vigilante sat up on the table and flung his legs over the side, trying to get off, when hands took his shoulders.

Claire's scent enveloped him as she took him in her arms, rubbing a hand over his heaving back as he tried to calm his breathing. He clung to her so tightly and tried to stop from making those awful whimpers he could feel coming from him. He was dizzy, his mind swirling and swaying but his breathing was slowly, slowly calming down.

His head was hurting and he felt nauseous. He scrunched his eyes shut and buried his face into Claire's shoulder in an effort to block out the awful smells and centre himself. He couldn't concentrate on her heartbeat when his own was thumping so harshly against his ribcage. He squeezed her tight as her arm stopped moving on his back, the other hand holding the back of his head to her shoulder.

Matt felt the shift as she began holding him still, her lips moving on his temple. Someone took his arm, he felt a cold, sharp prick that made him jump even as Claire held him. His mind grew fuzzy, slipping from his arms grew lax around the nurse. He thought he may have moaned something about wanting Foggy before hands were on him again, guiding him back down to the table. He didn't want to go back in the machine but the blanket around him felt so nice and warm he sank into it and let his mind fall into the blackness.

….

Foggy had been waiting for over an hour now and was getting worried. What if they found something bad? What if something had happened to Matt? His phone rang and he looked down to see Karen's contact photo lighting up the screen. He blew out a breath and quickly ran over the excuse he came up with before answering.

"Hey Karen."

"Hey Foggy is everything okay? You ran out of the office looking freaked out and then I didn't hear from you for hours. And Matt hasn't come in at all today. I'm getting worried about you two did something happen?"

The lawyer started pacing the small room. Matt had been given a room before had been taken for his scans and Foggy was grateful for the quiet space to let him concentrate.

"Uhh yeah, I mean no. Umm. Matt hit his head we're at the hospital getting it checked out."

"What? Is he okay? Do you want me to come?"

Foggy hated lying to her and hated shutting her out even more but he knew her being here would probably upset Matt and make it difficult to talk to Claire.

"He'll be okay we just have to take head injuries seriously. You take the day off, we're probably going to be here till tomorrow, he's being kept for observation."

"Are you sure I can't come and help?"

"No it's fine, thank you though. You know how Matt is, he's stubborn about telling everyone he's fine when he's not he wouldn't want to bother you. I think he'd be embarrassed for you to see him like this anyway."

Foggy could feel her hesitation.

"Okay. Tell him I'll be thinking of him."

"I will. Thanks Karen."

He hung up and sat back in his chair. This would all be so much easier if she knew but at the same time he didn't want her to know. He wanted her safe.

Foggy looked up at the sound of bed wheels from the hallway, standing up in worry when he saw Claire and another nurse pulling Matts into the room, unconscious in a hospital bed.

"What happened? Is he okay?" He went straight for his best friend, taking his lax hand in his as they moved the bed into place in the small room. Claire looked apologetic and tired.

"He had a panic attack in the MRI we had to sedate him before he passed out or caused so much stress on his brain that he caused more damage. He'll be okay we just had to make sure he wasn't going to make his injuries worse. We don't know what's wrong with him yet so we have to take precautions."

Foggy looked down at the sleeping Vigilante and sighed.

"Did anything come up in the scan?"

He didn't take his eyes off the hero in the bed, watching his relaxed face and the steady rise and fall of his chest. Poor handsome wounded duck had had a long day and Foggy hated thinking of him going through a panic attack without him to help.

"The doctors taking a look at them now, he'll be in to talk to you as soon as he's done."

Foggy nodded again, eyes remaining fixed on his best friend. Claire spoke up again.

"He's going to be out for a while if you want to get some lunch or pick up something for the overnight stay, which I'm sure you're staying for."

Foggy nodded. He wouldn't be leaving Matt here alone.

"I'll stay I have someone I can call to get some stuff. Thanks Claire."

She nodded and checked a few more things before leaving. Foggy took the chair beside Matt's bed again and rested his forehead against Matt's hand.

"What are we going to do with you buddy?"