by kev_bot
buzzbooks217 @ yahoo.com
9/2002
PG-13
"I think I've spent half my life worrying about yours."
The one thing he could hold on to was the suit. What had Foggy called it? The costume. That’s right. A way to hide inside, inside himself. There was too much pain in this world, too much pain by half. But inside the suit – the costume – he had the ability to make things right again.
Abilities, sure, he thought. What good have my abilities ever brought me? Nothing, that’s what. Just pain and destruction, wherever I turn.
He could hear a heart beat blocks away, but he couldn’t tell if his own still thrummed in his chest. He’d spent his life – both his lives – fighting crime, but now he almost craved it. Mr. Hyde, Bullseye, anything they could throw at him: any way to focus what he was feeling and push it away from him.
Jesus. He hadn’t felt like this since … well, since his father died. But this was different, wasn’t it? No one was dying, there wasn’t anyone dying around here. Maybe that was what this was all about. His father, Elektra, Karen Page. He’d seen too much in his life. His lessons had all been ones of love and death and remorse; the moral of the story is this: no matter what you love, it will die. And maybe that’s why he was so afraid.
Nothing around. No one to fight. For once, Hell’s Kitchen was silent. Damn. His muscles ached to punch something, to relieve some of this goddamned confusion…
Wait: there were sounds. Blocks away. The mingled cacophony of heavy breathing, and leather loafers on wet pavement. No. No, not like this, not in the costume. Matt had stood against the Kingpin and walked away breathing … but he didn’t know if he could face this.
“Matt!” the familiar voice called. “Matt, come on! Where are you?”
I can’t, he thought, ducking back into the shadows of the alley. I can’t, not this, it’s too much too fast, and I don’t even understand why.
You don’t? The voice in his head, never far, was Elektra’s. Who’s stood by your side all these years? As Matt. As Daredevil. Who’s been the only person you can consistently count on? Not me, not Karen. Not even yourself. So don’t give me that “can’t” bullshit. You face this, and you face it now.
His stomach quaking, he forced himself out of the blackness, and into the epileptic light of a stuttering arc-sodium. “Foggy!” he called, and listened to the footsteps change direction.
“Matt?”
“Over here, Foggy.” Matt couldn’t see him, but he could sense him. Heard his heart beating – too fast. Was it the costume they argued over that had Foggy scared? The retreat into its world where these scary shades of gray never seeped? Or was it the fear of what Matt had said, the terror that came with those words? Yes, Matt thought. Who wouldn’t be scared? Look at me. I’m Daredevil, for God’s sake, and I’m scared out of my head.
Suddenly, Foggy was in front of him. His breathing was shallow, his heart still thumping fast. “Matt,” Foggy said, out of breath. “Matt, why’d you … just take off like that?”
Where were the words? “I thought that’s what you wanted.”
“That’s not what I wanted,” Foggy told him, his voice hard to read. Matt looked at him in darkness. It wasn’t the first time he’d wished he could see, but now it was a potent, tangible need. If only to see what Foggy’s face looked like. If only…
“And especially not in the costume,” Foggy said.
“It helps me think.” Such a lie.
“Well, it scares the crap out of me.” He paused, his voice softening. “Matt, what did you mean back there?”
Matt turned away. He could feel the weight of the streetlight drifting away from his skin, and yearned for the desperate cool of the shadows. “I didn’t mean anything. Maybe it’s better if we just forget it.”
Foggy grabbed his arm. “No, we can’t forget it, Matt. You know that as well as I do.”
Matt wheeled on him. “Well, I don’t understand it, all right? Elektra, Karen, Glorianna… I don’t understand what it means. And it’s not fair to you, Foggy. Not that I’ve ever been fair to you.”
Foggy’s grip loosened. “You’ve been fair enough. Matt, we’re best friends. That’s never going to change.”
He felt something inside him break. For all the shit he’d put Foggy through over the years, the man still stood by him. Remained his friend. That took courage that Matt wasn’t sure even he possessed.
That’s why you said it, he thought. That’s why you told him you loved him.
“Matt?” Foggy’s voice, sounding distant. That voice, always there. Always comforting. I’m in love with him, Matt thought, wanting at once to scream and cry and shout with joy. I’m in love with Foggy Nelson, so help me God.
“Yeah, Foggy?”
“Can you take off the mask?”
Foggy had hated the mask since the moment he’d found out Matt was Daredevil. There was no trouble in the city tonight; it was safe to show himself to his friend. He reached up, removing his mask, and holding it to his side.
“I always think about you, you know,” Foggy said. “I always wonder where Matt is, who he’s with, is he going to turn up dead somewhere. I think I’ve spent half my life worrying about yours.”
“Sorry, Foggy.” God, he felt naked without the mask.
“Don’t be sorry,” Foggy said, moving closer. Has his breath gotten shallower? “It’s just … listen, Matt. We’ve been through a lot together. A hell of a lot. And we’re the only ones left standing. Isn’t fate weird like that?”
“Weird,” Matt said, the rest of the words escaping his mind. What was happening here? What was going on?
“I’ve thought about it, you know,” Foggy said, and he sounded as if he wore a slight smile. Oh, God! To see it! “After everything that’s happened, yeah. I thought about it. This is a man who stands up for people, who protects people, who’s saved me more times than I can count.”
“I thought you hated Daredevil.”
“I’m not talking about Daredevil. I’m talking about Matt Murdock, my best friend. And if you ask me tomorrow, I might deny it … but, Matt?”
“Yes?”
“I’ve thought about what it would be like … to kiss you.” He heard Foggy put his hands to his face. “Oh, God. What’s wrong with me? With us?”
Matt took a step closer. He could feel Foggy’s breath on his face. “I think that maybe we’re sick of falling for the wrong people, Foggy. Maybe it’s always been this. And we just haven’t seen it.” He paused. “I know I haven’t.”
Foggy was silent for a moment, then uttered a harsh laugh. “Matt, that…”
But he stopped it before Foggy could finish. He leaned in, and, guided by the sound of his friend’s breath, placed his lips on Foggy’s. Foggy’s heart kicked, his head jerking back slightly. Then, tentatively, Foggy opened his lips and began kissing back.
I’m in love with him, Matt thought, his brain swirling. Now maybe we don’t have to be alone anymore. Maybe that’s what this all means.
Then thought flew away. All he knew was that he was with Foggy at night in the city, and for the first time in forever, he felt safe.
The one thing he could hold on to was the suit. What had Foggy called it? The costume. That’s right. A way to hide inside, inside himself. There was too much pain in this world, too much pain by half. But inside the suit – the costume – he had the ability to make things right again.
Abilities, sure, he thought. What good have my abilities ever brought me? Nothing, that’s what. Just pain and destruction, wherever I turn.
He could hear a heart beat blocks away, but he couldn’t tell if his own still thrummed in his chest. He’d spent his life – both his lives – fighting crime, but now he almost craved it. Mr. Hyde, Bullseye, anything they could throw at him: any way to focus what he was feeling and push it away from him.
Jesus. He hadn’t felt like this since … well, since his father died. But this was different, wasn’t it? No one was dying, there wasn’t anyone dying around here. Maybe that was what this was all about. His father, Elektra, Karen Page. He’d seen too much in his life. His lessons had all been ones of love and death and remorse; the moral of the story is this: no matter what you love, it will die. And maybe that’s why he was so afraid.
Nothing around. No one to fight. For once, Hell’s Kitchen was silent. Damn. His muscles ached to punch something, to relieve some of this goddamned confusion…
Wait: there were sounds. Blocks away. The mingled cacophony of heavy breathing, and leather loafers on wet pavement. No. No, not like this, not in the costume. Matt had stood against the Kingpin and walked away breathing … but he didn’t know if he could face this.
“Matt!” the familiar voice called. “Matt, come on! Where are you?”
I can’t, he thought, ducking back into the shadows of the alley. I can’t, not this, it’s too much too fast, and I don’t even understand why.
You don’t? The voice in his head, never far, was Elektra’s. Who’s stood by your side all these years? As Matt. As Daredevil. Who’s been the only person you can consistently count on? Not me, not Karen. Not even yourself. So don’t give me that “can’t” bullshit. You face this, and you face it now.
His stomach quaking, he forced himself out of the blackness, and into the epileptic light of a stuttering arc-sodium. “Foggy!” he called, and listened to the footsteps change direction.
“Matt?”
“Over here, Foggy.” Matt couldn’t see him, but he could sense him. Heard his heart beating – too fast. Was it the costume they argued over that had Foggy scared? The retreat into its world where these scary shades of gray never seeped? Or was it the fear of what Matt had said, the terror that came with those words? Yes, Matt thought. Who wouldn’t be scared? Look at me. I’m Daredevil, for God’s sake, and I’m scared out of my head.
Suddenly, Foggy was in front of him. His breathing was shallow, his heart still thumping fast. “Matt,” Foggy said, out of breath. “Matt, why’d you … just take off like that?”
Where were the words? “I thought that’s what you wanted.”
“That’s not what I wanted,” Foggy told him, his voice hard to read. Matt looked at him in darkness. It wasn’t the first time he’d wished he could see, but now it was a potent, tangible need. If only to see what Foggy’s face looked like. If only…
“And especially not in the costume,” Foggy said.
“It helps me think.” Such a lie.
“Well, it scares the crap out of me.” He paused, his voice softening. “Matt, what did you mean back there?”
Matt turned away. He could feel the weight of the streetlight drifting away from his skin, and yearned for the desperate cool of the shadows. “I didn’t mean anything. Maybe it’s better if we just forget it.”
Foggy grabbed his arm. “No, we can’t forget it, Matt. You know that as well as I do.”
Matt wheeled on him. “Well, I don’t understand it, all right? Elektra, Karen, Glorianna… I don’t understand what it means. And it’s not fair to you, Foggy. Not that I’ve ever been fair to you.”
Foggy’s grip loosened. “You’ve been fair enough. Matt, we’re best friends. That’s never going to change.”
He felt something inside him break. For all the shit he’d put Foggy through over the years, the man still stood by him. Remained his friend. That took courage that Matt wasn’t sure even he possessed.
That’s why you said it, he thought. That’s why you told him you loved him.
“Matt?” Foggy’s voice, sounding distant. That voice, always there. Always comforting. I’m in love with him, Matt thought, wanting at once to scream and cry and shout with joy. I’m in love with Foggy Nelson, so help me God.
“Yeah, Foggy?”
“Can you take off the mask?”
Foggy had hated the mask since the moment he’d found out Matt was Daredevil. There was no trouble in the city tonight; it was safe to show himself to his friend. He reached up, removing his mask, and holding it to his side.
“I always think about you, you know,” Foggy said. “I always wonder where Matt is, who he’s with, is he going to turn up dead somewhere. I think I’ve spent half my life worrying about yours.”
“Sorry, Foggy.” God, he felt naked without the mask.
“Don’t be sorry,” Foggy said, moving closer. Has his breath gotten shallower? “It’s just … listen, Matt. We’ve been through a lot together. A hell of a lot. And we’re the only ones left standing. Isn’t fate weird like that?”
“Weird,” Matt said, the rest of the words escaping his mind. What was happening here? What was going on?
“I’ve thought about it, you know,” Foggy said, and he sounded as if he wore a slight smile. Oh, God! To see it! “After everything that’s happened, yeah. I thought about it. This is a man who stands up for people, who protects people, who’s saved me more times than I can count.”
“I thought you hated Daredevil.”
“I’m not talking about Daredevil. I’m talking about Matt Murdock, my best friend. And if you ask me tomorrow, I might deny it … but, Matt?”
“Yes?”
“I’ve thought about what it would be like … to kiss you.” He heard Foggy put his hands to his face. “Oh, God. What’s wrong with me? With us?”
Matt took a step closer. He could feel Foggy’s breath on his face. “I think that maybe we’re sick of falling for the wrong people, Foggy. Maybe it’s always been this. And we just haven’t seen it.” He paused. “I know I haven’t.”
Foggy was silent for a moment, then uttered a harsh laugh. “Matt, that…”
But he stopped it before Foggy could finish. He leaned in, and, guided by the sound of his friend’s breath, placed his lips on Foggy’s. Foggy’s heart kicked, his head jerking back slightly. Then, tentatively, Foggy opened his lips and began kissing back.
I’m in love with him, Matt thought, his brain swirling. Now maybe we don’t have to be alone anymore. Maybe that’s what this all means.
Then thought flew away. All he knew was that he was with Foggy at night in the city, and for the first time in forever, he felt safe.