A/N: This chapter takes on a more serious tone. Brad is an actual Daredevil character borrowed from Frank Miller's Man Without Fear.
I give all character credit to the comic god. Enjoy!

"Foggy, there's something else I need to own up to."

"It's not Asian Gourmet is it? God, please don't tell me I can't have the so-good-you-could-slap-your-momma sweet and sour pork anymore!"

Matt laughed. "No. It's fine. But remember that guy Brad from law school?"

"I don't think I'll ever forget that asshole."

"Well, when I told you I didn't start going out until after law school, that wasn't completely true. There was this one time…"

Lie #3: The Bully

Foggy had a black eye and a busted mouth this time, and Matt knew enough was enough. He had dealt with his share of bullies growing up, turning the other cheek like his father and his priest had wanted him to do. But this was his roommate and the best friend—really the first friend—Matt had had since his father died.

"S'not so bad," Foggy slurred through bloody lips.

"I suppose you're going to tell me you fell down again."

"No, just, I'm a big klutz. Really."

Matt handed him an ice pack for his eye and used a warm rag to wipe his face. "You think I believe that? Foggy, I've been with you after you've drank our whole study group under the table, taken two more shots for a nightcap, and managed to hold me up all the way back to the room. I'm not buying this clumsy crap anymore."

Foggy's eyes filled with tears, and Matt tried to pretend he couldn't tell as Foggy's voice came out shaky. "Okay, it's this guy Brad. He's in Constitutional Law with us. Sits in the back with the rest of his jerk-off brat pack. They just started harassing me these last few weeks outside of class whenever they see me, calling me names like 'lard ass' and 'fat boy'. Nothing original. But I had enough today, and I got shiner in return." Foggy sniffled, and Matt handed him the wet rag without saying a word.

While Foggy wiped his face, Matt tried to "picture" who Brad was. He knew the group Foggy was referring to. They were the stereotypical guy group that unfortunately wasn't always just a stereotype on a college campus. They were rich, loud, lecherous, obnoxious and known for their drinking games that usually ended in vandalism or alcohol poisoning. Matt hoped he'd seen the last of them in undergrad, but he knew some guys never grew up. He could hear them some nights, coming in late from off campus parties or bars, yelling and high-fiving, throwing their glass bottles against whatever was nearby. Matt had ignored them before. Just a group of guys letting off steam after studying, midterms. He understood. But they'd fucked up this time.

Foggy sniffled some more. "I've got to go home for Christmas in a few weeks. What do I say to my dad and mom? I'm a grown-ass man who still lets punks beat on him?" Tears rolled down Foggy's cheeks. "I thought I was done with this high school shit in high school. It's just that I, well I, don't know what I did to him."

Matt patted Foggy's shoulder as he cried openly now. "I'm sure there's no reason for it. Bullies never need a reason."

Later that night, after Foggy was in a deep, painkiller induced sleep, Matt slipped quietly out the third story window and into the cold night air. Matt had sat in the room and listened to people outside coming and going from the library, their boyfriend's or girlfriend's room. As the hours ticked on and midnight slid past, he heard the rowdy sounds he was waiting for.

They were walking up the sidewalk several yards from their dorm, laughing and trying to stay upright. Snow and sleet had started falling after midnight, and the walkway was starting to get slick. Time to lead the sheep away from the flock, Matt thought. He moved swiftly over the roof tops, dressed in black. Not that the drunken idiots would have noticed him that high up, but he didn't need any grief from the campus cops either.

His opportunity came sooner than expected. Brad (he'd had Foggy describe him, even though Foggy was confused why) stepped away from the group declaring "Gotta take a leak!" The other guys laughed but kept walking (or stumbling) their way to bed.

Brad was urinating off the side of the cafeteria building, partially hid by a group of trees. Even if he wasn't three sheets to the wind, he would have never heard Matt coming.

Two girls found Brad the next morning on the snow covered tennis court, bare-ass naked, hand and feet tied together, thrashing and trying to scream for help through his gag. He told the police nothing. It was just a prank. Nothing to get worked up about. He doesn't tell them what the man in black said to him as he dangled him by his feet from the roof top. He doesn't mention the name Franklin "Foggy" Nelson to anyone, except his friends, to tell them to layoff, he's not so bad. And he definitely doesn't tell them about the nightmares he started having.

Foggy went home for Christmas with passing grades and a lifted spirit. Matt had the best sleep he'd had in weeks.

"Okay. Brownie points. You've definitely earned back brownie points."

"So you're not angry?"

"Angry? I'm ecstatic! I knew something was up when that shithead started running in the opposite direction every time he saw me. Wait until I see him at the ten year reunion!"