A/N: I honestly have no idea where this idea came from, I don't know, perhaps I wasn't getting enough whump from this fic. That's about all I have to say on the matter, oh, also it's going to be in two parts cause it was way too fricking long! I hope you enjoy!
It was cold, it was late, and neither of them wanted to cook.
Foggy sat slumped against the almost three person sofa the pair owned for the rare occasion they had company.
Matt was sitting at the dining room table, letting the sounds of Foggy's fish tank lull him into a dream-like state. He could picture the fish, well, he could picture a fish. He'd seen fish at an aquarium once when he was younger but he was guessing none of the species he could remember were the type Foggy owned. So he could picture a fish swimming around merrily in the warm water, completely content with its simple life.
"Hey, we should order take-out." Foggy called, tone tired and deadpan.
"Where from?" Matt responded in the same tone.
"I don't know. Does that new Indian place deliver?"
"Why don't you call them and find out?"
"Why don't you call them?" Foggy shot back immediately.
"Because I've never had Indian food before. So I'd ask if they deliver, they'd say yes then ask me what I want and I'd have no idea what to order." Matt responded logically.
"Well you, my friend, are in for a treat. Indian food is delicious." Foggy said as he hauled himself off the couch. There was a moment of silence and some shuffling before, "Hey Matt, where's the phone?"
"How should I know? Where'd you see it last?"
"I can't remember, where'd you?"
Matt just sighed, rubbing his fingers against his temple in small circles. Matt couldn't even count the number of times Foggy had said something akin to his statement in the three years they had been living together. "This is why they come with holders Foggy, so people can actually find them. What happens if there's an emergency situation and I'm left fumbling around trying to find the phone because you didn't put it away?"
"Matt, when are you ever without me? Seriously, neither of us has a social life so no one will ever be left fumbling-"
"And how exactly would you describe what it is you are doing now?"
Foggy opened his mouth to retort but paused when he really considered things. "Shut up." He grumbled instead.
Matt simply laughed in response.
"Ah ha!" Foggy cried in victory. "Found it."
"And where was it?"
"Nowhere."
"Under your pile of dirty laundry?"
"Absolutely not."
It took Foggy another moment to find the small flyer they'd been given with the restaurant's name and phone number on it, then Matt could hear him talking to a man on the other line. "Yeah hi, I was wondering if you deliver." A pause. "Oh you do? Fantastic!" Foggy then proceeded to order their meal.
Matt wasn't too concerned, he trusted Foggy's judgement. Well, he trusted Foggy's judgement when it came to food.
"1287 North Hampton Drive." Matt heard Foggy rattle off their address, glad that he no longer needed to remind him of what it was. "Yeah, apartment 307. Alright thanks. Bye." With a beep Foggy hung up the phone, making a show of putting the device back in its holder.
He had no way of knowing then how thankful he was going to be when he could find the phone easily later that evening.
"Food's gonna be here in about fifteen or so minutes."
"Fantastic." Matt grinned.
"Seriously man, you are in for such a treat. Your first taste of Indian food is always memorable."
"Oh yeah, what was yours?"
"June 6th 1999."
"A date and everything, that's impressive."
"Believe me, that day will forever be etched in my memory." Foggy's tone suggested he was not kidding.
Matt leaned forward slightly, excited for what was bound to be a good story. "I was eleven years old. Young, naive, innocent. My mom had come home from work with take-out boxes. 'Frankie' she says-"
"Frankie?" Matt interrupted with a snigger.
"Yes, Frankie. That was the unfortunate nickname I was known by until I started high school. It was very humiliating and I'm convinced that it left me with psychological scarring. Permanent issues."
"Are you sure that's what caused them?"
Foggy opened his mouth to answer the question, completely serious, when he caught the sly quirk to Matt's lips. "Shut up!" He yelled in jest, smacking his friend's arm. "Anyway. 'Frankie' she says, 'I brought home some supper for us.' She opened the boxes and I got a whiff. The foreign scents smelled strange to my young nose, but I trusted my mother's judgement. She said it was supper so I assumed the food was fit for consumption. I had barely taken my first bite before my eyes began to water. I immediately knew something was wrong, my mouth felt as if it were on fire. Naturally my first assumption was that the woman had poisoned me."
"Naturally."
"My mom, however, simply laughed. 'Have some milk dear.' She said, and to my astonishment, the milk actually helped. I had finished an entire gallon by the time I was done with supper."
Matt's eyebrows raised in concern. "And you say this is a good meal?"
"Oh yeah. You get used to the spiciness over time. Plus, I ordered a little more mild food so you don't have to worry your delicate little taste buds." Foggy reassured.
"Gee thanks Foggy." Matt replied sarcastically.
Foggy either didn't pick up on it, or more likely, chose to blatantly ignore it. "Your welcome!"
The pair were then interrupted by the sound of their door buzzer.
"Foods here!" Foggy chimed happily, standing and heading towards the door. He pushed the button to allow the delivery person access to the building. "Hey, do you wanna toss me my wallet?"
"Um," Matt trailed off in uncertainty.
"It's on the table, to your left."
Matt's fingers swept over the surface expertly before finding the leather object. "Now toss it?" He asked doubtfully.
"Yeah, just throw it at my voice."
"You're so loud, that shouldn't be too hard."
"Hey," Foggy began to protest but stopped as Matt raised his arm to throw his wallet.
The throw wasn't fantastic, neither of them had expected it to be. "Woah shit." Foggy cursed softly, narrowly avoiding being smacking in the face.
Matt listened with a cringe as the wallet made contact with their flimsy wooden cabinets. "Sorry." He mumbled sheepishly.
"No it's okay." Foggy was quick to amend. "I totally would've caught it had it not been going so fast. You've got a pretty mean throw man."
A knock at the door drew Foggy's attention away from the small, satisfied smile on Matt's face. "Hey, thanks dude." Foggy said to the man at the door. Money and food exchanged hands and soon the smell of a hot meal bombarded Matt's nose.
"Woah that is strong." He commented, coughing slightly at the overpowering scent.
"Is it really? Like, too strong? I guess it's not as mild as I thought, you don't have to eat it-"
"Foggy, strong is fine. I was just observing, it was a little unexpected is all."
"Okay good." Foggy said with a relieved sigh. "Cause I would have been so sad if you had backed out of this. It is a stepping stone in your life."
"If you say so."
"I do. And we both know I'm always right."
"Always is a bit of stretch."
"Fine." Foggy huffed. "Most of the time, I'm right most of the time."
Matt bobbled his head in contemplation, "Eh."
Foggy paused in his task of dishing out the food. "Is that doubt I hear in your voice?"
Matt just shrugged, trying to keep his facial features innocent. "Not doubt per say."
"Well how often do you think I'm right?"
"I mean, are we talking in terms of food, or just life in general?"
"There's a difference in how often I'm right when compared with food and life?"
"Oh yeah." Matt nodded. "Cause I always trust your judgement with food, you have yet to steer me wrong. Life on the other hand, well, how can I put this? You don't always make the wisest, or most well thought out decisions."
"Name one." Foggy challenged.
"Never studying." Matt fired back without hesitation.
"I study." Foggy mumbled.
"Only after I badger you to. Look, it doesn't really matter. I'm hungry and I'm excited to try this food."
"Okay." Foggy complied, immediately forgetting about feeling insulted at Matt's earlier comment. "Here you are, a plate full of spicy goodness!" He cried exaggeratedly.
"You do realize we have neighbors right?"
"And they will all be jealous of the delicious fumes excreting from under our door."
"Mmm." Matt cringed in disgust. "Seriously? Was there no better way you could think to describe that?"
"Nope. Now try some of your food!"
Matt sighed, then picked up the fork he knew to be next to his plate. With careful practiced ease, Matt scooped some of the food up and into his mouth. He chewed in contemplation for a moment before nodding softly. "That's pretty good." He gasped out.
"It's still too spicy isn't it?"
"No." Matt reassured, exhaling quickly through his mouth. "Not at all." He said again, although weather he was trying to convince himself or Foggy of this fact, Foggy wasn't sure. Still, Matt determinedly took another bite of his food, chewing it and swallowing it before cringing. "Damn that's hot!"
Foggy snorted, taking a bite of his own food. He was pleasantly shocked at just how spicy the food was. "Wow, this is spicier than I thought it was going to be. Weird, I wonder what they made it with."
Matt had barely taken his fourth bite when he began to cough.
Foggy chuckled, "You really can't handle spicy food, can you?"
"Guess not." Matt said between airy coughs. "Maybe something to drink would help." He stood to make his way to their small kitchen area but quickly sat back down.
"Matt?" Foggy asked, concern leaking through his tone.
"Um I'm not-" Matt swallowed thickly, his hands just starting to shake.
"Here, let me grab you a glass of milk." Fogy stood quickly. He rushed to the kitchenette and pulled out the first glass his hand came into contact with. He poured some milk swiftly and left the jug sitting out on the cupboard. When he returned it was to find Matt sitting on the floor, white knuckles grasping the chair leg behind him tightly. His eyebrows were scrunched in pain, eyes wide in terror as he desperately attempted to pull in enough oxygen.
"I can't breathe." He gasped out.
"Holy shit." Foggy dropped the glass onto the table, paying no attention as milk spilled out and across the wooden surface.
Matt jumped when a hand clutched his upper arm, having been focusing on things other than special awareness.
"Uh-" Foggy paused in shock, momentarily frozen and unsure of what he should do.
It was Matt's desperate "Foggy" that kicked his ass into gear. "Okay, okay it's gonna be okay. I'm gonna call 911, I'll be right back!"
Foggy dashed over to the counter and knocked the phone's holder to the floor in his haste to get it out. With shaking fingers he dialed the three numbers.
"911 what's your emergency?" A smooth female voice answered after the first ring.
"Um, my name's Foggy, my friend he- something's wrong, he can't breathe." Foggy rattled as he made his way back over to Matt.
"Okay, Foggy, the first thing you have to do for me is to stay calm. Understand? You can't help anyone if you aren't calm." The operator commanded, her tone gentle and reassuring.
Foggy took a deep breath, then let it out quickly. "Yeah, yeah I understand."
"That's good. What's your address Foggy?"
"1287 North Hampton Drive, right near Columbia University. Apartment 307."
"Alright, thank you. Now, has this ever happened before?"
Foggy shook his head with a terse sigh, "Not that I know of."
"Does your friend have any severe allergies, carry an EpiPen at all?"
Foggy glanced down at Matt for confirmation, "He's shaking his head no. God what do I do!"
"Listen Foggy, I know this is stressful but an ambulance is on its way. It'll be there very soon, but there's something you need to understand: if your friend stops breathing before the ambulance arrives, you will need to administer CPR, can you do that?"
"I'm not- I learned how to in health class like, three years ago, I'm not sure I can do this!"
"Foggy, I have faith in you, and I'm sure your friend does as well. Now take a deep breath, I will be here for you every step of the way. You will never be on your own here."
Foggy nodded jerkily, his hands were shaking so hard he almost dropped the phone. "Okay. Okay what do I do?"
"You need to lay your friend down, prop his head up slightly to help him breathe, and elevate his feet. If you have a blanket within reach, cover him up, make him comfortable, but do not leave his side. Once you've done that I need you to check his pulse, can you do that for me?"
"Yeah, yeah I think so." Foggy paused a moment, taking in Matt's pale sweaty face before jumping into action. He set the phone down on the floor next to him, gripping Matt gently around both shoulders.
Matt had been able to hear everything the 911 operator had said so he knew what was going on, easily complying with Foggy's silent demands for his body. Unfortunately it didn't help to alleviate the stress of the situation, and Matt was silently freaking out. He felt Foggy press two fingers to his neck, presumably to do as the operator had said and take his pulse, Matt had pretty much stopped paying attention to what was going on around him, focusing instead on his mutinying lungs.
"It's, it's really fast." Foggy relayed, unsure how to accurately measure a pulse. A squeak from the floor drew his attention back to Matt, eyes scrunched up tight, lips tinged just the slightest shade of blue. "He's gasping now, God he can't breathe!"
"I know Foggy, I know. The ambulance is almost there, try to calm your friend down, make sure he knows everything is going to be okay."
"Will it?" Foggy asked quietly, his voice soft and terrified.
The woman on the other end of the line sighed deeply, "I hope so." She said truthfully. "Listen, Foggy, I know how hard this must be for you, situations like this are terrifying. But there isn't anything more that can be done until the ambulance arrives. The best thing you can do is to comfort your friend, I'm sure he's really scared too."
Foggy nodded, noticing the tears sliding down his face for the first time. Tears that mirrored Matt's. "Okay I'm- I'm gonna put you on speaker, please just- don't go anywhere okay?"
"I won't hang up until you want me to Foggy." The woman promised.
Foggy nodded to himself, pressing the speakerphone button and setting the device on the floor next to his knee. "Matt, Matt listen to me, an ambulance is on its way, it should be here any minute, okay? You're gonna be just fine."
Matt continued to gasp, his mouth parting in an unvocalized sob. It broke Foggy's heart to see.
"Foggy, try to get him to focus on you, slow his breathing."
Foggy jumped at the voice, having forgotten about the operator on the other end of the line still listening in. "Matt." Foggy whispered, sniffing. He grabbed his best friend's hand and placed it against his own chest. "Matt, relax. I'm here, I'm right here. Feel my heartbeat, my breathing. Can you take a deep breath with me?"
Matt did his best to take a deep, even breath like Foggy had but his swollen throat wouldn't allow it. "Can't." He gasped out.
"That's okay, whatever you can do is fine." Foggy reassured, turning his attention back to the operator he asked, "What else should I do?"
"Just try and distract him, try to keep him from talking until the ambulance arrives."
"Hey Matt, remember that one time in chem? The prof was just setting up his experiment when it went off. Scared the pants off him and everyone else in the room. You practically jumped out of your chair." Foggy chuckled wetly. "That was a fun class. I mean, I didn't understand what was going on half the time, and it sucked that we had to take it cause, law degrees, when are we ever gonna need chemistry? Who knows, maybe it'll come in handy someday."
A knock at the door distracted Foggy from his rambling, "It's unlocked, come in!"
Immediately two EMT's burst through the door, dragging a stretcher between them. Foggy was gently nudged out of the way as the two professionals began to work, shouting out things like 'tachycardic' and 'point five cc's epinephrine'.
Before Foggy could really process what was going on Matt was being hoisted onto the stretcher and carted out of the small apartment. Foggy was left standing in shocked silence, the suddenness of it making his ears ring.
"Foggy?" A female voice called from the floor.
Foggy glanced down in confusion before he remembered the phone. He picked it up and put it up against his ear without thinking to turn the speaker off. "The ambulance is here." He said softly.
"I heard. Your friend is in good hands, I promise. You should probably go with him."
"Yeah." Foggy blinked then processed what she'd actually said. "Shit yeah! Um, thanks a ton."
"You're welcome Foggy."
With that Foggy hung up the phone and hurried out the door, jumping into the back of the ambulance just before it was ready to leave.