Title: Thin Air – The Franklin Nelson Edition
Characters/Pairings: Foggy, Matt
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Alternate Ending No. 4 to "Thin Air".
Author's Note: I know. Cheesy cop-out. But I couldn't not write this. I have zero regrets.
Day 697
It's taken him almost two years to piece together enough of his memories to find his way back to New York. He has no idea how he ended up in Puerto Rico, or what caused the lingering amnesia that had him groping around so long for an identity.
The city is louder and busier than he remembers, but all the smells and visual cues are familiar. He's sure of it: This is home.
His plane lands at JFK and he makes his way straight to Hell's Kitchen. He has trouble finding the place at first, because his memory is still hazy in places, but he's walked up and down the same block twice. In the end it's the humongous billboard mounted high on the wall that sparks the final reassurance.
He hopes it's not too late, hopes that Matt still lives here. Two years is a long time if your best friend vanishes from your life. Quite possibly without a trace, although that's just a guess on Foggy's part. But there's something inside of him that hopes this can be a happy reunion, not a disaster of accusations and blame and mountains of guilt too high to conquer.
The staircase has a familiar feel to it, and the door to apartment 6A even more so with its white, almost dirty gray top and turquoise below. His heart skips a beat when he lifts his fist up to knock.
This is a defining moment, and he's suddenly scared shitless.
He hesitates, lets his hand sink down. Then lifts it again.
"Shit," he mutters under his breath. "Come on, Nelson, you can do this," he finally tells himself and raps on the wood.
Four times.
In that pattern they used to have in law school that he actually does remember without too much trouble. Memory is a fickle thing.
He can hear faint noises inside, steps coming closer. Then they stop. Is this Matt? Is he listening to his heartbeat right now? Can he tell?
"Matt?" Foggy adds for good measure.
The door swings open abruptly. And there he is, Matt Murdock, looking exactly like Foggy remembers him, except his eyes are wide and there's an expression of shock and disbelief and utter discomposure on his face.
Matt stumbles backwards, the corridor wall behind him stopping him in mid-motion.
"Foggy?" he lets out, and it almost sounds like a whimper.
Foggy lifts his arms in a welcoming gesture. "Yeah. It's me, buddy. I'm glad you remember my ugly mug."
He steps closer, ready to draw his friend into a hug, but Matt shies away like a scared animal. It stops Foggy cold.
Matt's voice is a stone-cold whisper. "You're not real. You can't be real. I looked all over for you. It's been two years."
"Yes, it has. And there's a story to go with it, if you'll let me tell it. Or at least as much as I know of it. But I can assure you, I'm real. Very, very real. Like, warm-blooded, amnesia-addled homo sapiens real. Pinch me if you don't believe it."
Matt takes a tentative step in Foggy's direction, holding out a hand in front of him.
"Will you at least let me come in?" Foggy asks, all playfulness now gone from his voice.
It is then that Matt closes the distance between them and pulls him close, wrapping his arms around him like he will never want to let go.
"Oi," Foggy manages to mutter into Matt's shoulder, but he doesn't move. Doesn't move for a long time, because Matt's crying into his shirt, and clings on for dear life.
When Matt's grip lessens, Foggy says, "Okay, this is more like the welcome I'd expected. But can we please go inside? I'm here to stay. I promise."
Matt sniffles, lets go, wipes his nose with his sleeve. "Yeah. Sorry."
Foggy gives him a little laugh. "It's okay. I expected nothing less."
"I just… I can't believe it."
"Yeah, neither can I. It's been the weirdest two years, I'm telling ya."
It takes all night for Foggy and Matt to recount their last 700 days—give or take. Neither of them gets any sleep, but there's nothing in the world that could matter less than sleep at a time like this.
There's a happy glow surrounding both of them by the time Matt gets out his phone and calls Karen.
Perhaps miracles do happen, and all too often when you least expect them.