daredevilkink | Prompt Post #3

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Prompt Post #3

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He was already blind by the time the Harry Potter series took the world by storm. That being said, it was still inevitable that he would, at some point, run across the films that were based off of J.K. Rowling's novels, and so he may never have seen Molly Weasley, but he knew the tone of her voice. That, 'I am everyone's mother and I will adopt you with or without your consent.'

Maggie Nelson had that same tone.

He probably shouldn't have been surprised. Foggy was much the same way, though perhaps he was slightly less - forceful was not the correct term, as Maggie was about the furthest thing from violent Matt had ever encountered, but it was the closest one that came to mind - about it.

Upon entering the Nelson family's home, Matt found himself enveloped in strong, yet soft arms, and heard Foggy whispering frantically, "Mom, you're not supposed to just ambush him like that. At least give him a little warning, first, so he knows you're coming."

"Oh, sorry, dear," Maggie apologized fretfully, pulling away to a less personal distance. "I've just heard so much about you from Frank's brother, and now, from Foggy, too. I feel like you're part of the family already."

Matt smiled disarmingly, though he felt a little thrown. It had been several years since anyone under the age of sixty had called him dear. He didn't mind it, he simply... wasn't used to it. "It's all right, Mrs. Nelson. No harm done. And thank you for having me over tonight. It's nice to finally meet you."

"It's Maggie, dear, and don't be silly. We're more than glad to have you." She paused and then said, "Why don't you two go into the living room? Dinner's almost ready, but it will be a few minutes, and Foggy, your father's in there."

"Sure, mom. Oh, and Matt brought something for dessert." There was the sound of the box of double fudge brownies Matt purchased from the corner bakery he liked to visit on occasion changing hands.

"Oh, these look lovely. Matt, honey, you shouldn't have."

"It was the least I could do, ma'am."

"I caught that," Maggie pointed out dryly before ushering them into the living room. "I'll just take these into the kitchen."

She bustled out of the front entrance, leaving Matt to follow Foggy into the living room. Instead of leading him, Foggy offered Matt his arm, something he had been doing more and more often lately, as they went to more unfamiliar or crowded places together. Upon taking it, Matt found himself guided into what was presumably the living room, whereupon he encountered the heartbeat and respiration of a middle-aged, blue-collar man at rest.

"Oh, hey, there, Foggy. Mr. Murdock. It's nice to meet you." The man raised himself up off of a piece of furniture - the couch, judging by the sound of the fabric as it rearranged itself in the absence of his weight.

"It's nice to meet you, as well, sir." Matt held out his hand in preparation for the handshake he thought might be coming. As expected, a big, calloused hand clasped his own and pumped it a few times.

Foggy sighed silently (In his own mind, Matt was sure.) in affectionate exasperation at his parents' actions.

"Oh, you can just call me Frank. We're not big on formalities, here."

"Then, please, call me Matt."

There was good-natured amusement in Frank's voice when he replied, "Sounds pretty fair. Why don't you two sit down? If I know Maggie at all - and after thirty years, I'd like to think I do - she told you it'd only be a few minutes, but it's really more like half an hour."

Matt turned his head toward Foggy, who huffed quietly. "He's not wrong. Come on, there's plenty of space on the other side of the couch."

They walked together for a moment, and then Matt reached out to feel the outline of the couch's arm, and he turned lowered himself down and told himself to relax. So far, so good. Foggy's parents seemed to like him well enough, and after that, what could really go wrong?

He hadn't counted on Foggy's younger sister.

From the few things Foggy had said about her over the course of their rather unlikely friendship, he probably should have, but he hadn't.

This was why he was utterly unprepared for her to ask, in the middle of dinner, "So, has Foggy ever told you that he's been in love with you since the day you met? It was love at first sight."

"Marnie!" Foggy hissed, mortified. Then he sighed in resignation and asked, "What's the penalty for fratricide? D'you think you could get it knocked down to manslaughter if I told the judge and the jury that my sister is actually the devil? Her middle name's Lucille, for crying out loud."

"Stop it, both of you," Maggie ordered after Marnie made a taunting retaliatory sound in her brother's direction. She exhaled a heavy stream of air and confided, "I don't know what happened. They used to get along so well together."

"Yeah, and then Marnie became a teenager. I kept telling you we needed to put bricks on her head, but did any of you listen?"

"I - don't think that would have stopped her from aging," Matt pointed out with less than his usual confidence. He wasn't used to hearing Foggy sound genuinely irritated, and as an only child, he had extremely limited experience with the sort of relationships siblings were supposed to have.

Foggy grumbled something along the lines of, "Maybe not, but it would have made me feel better."

"Both of you need to stop acting like such children," their older sister interjected haughtily. She was home from college for the weekend so that she could study in peace and get some laundry done. "In case you've forgotten, we still have a guest."

"He's not a guest, Meg. He's Matt."

"Careful, there, Fogs," Marnie said coolly. "Your crush is showing."

The entire time that the siblings bickered amongst themselves, the dining room felt like the site of a brewing storm, and the thunderclap finally came in the form of Frank's sharp, "That's enough, all of you. Your mother already told you to stop, so I shouldn't have to tell you again. You're all more than old enough to know better." He was silent for a moment, and then he said, "Now. We're lucky enough to have Matt here with us this evening. Let's try not to scare him enough that he never comes back."

"Sorry."

"Sorry."

"Sorry," came three sullen voices, one right after the other.

Maggie cleared her throat and asked, "So, Matt, what do you like to do when you're not at work or listening to my charming children squabble with each other?"

this is so lovely! lucille is a delight :D

Thanks! I'm glad you like Foffy's youngest sister.

*Foggy's

Ugh. Typing with one of your fingers in a splint is incredibly frustrating.

This is so easy to imagine lol awesome job! Can't wait for more!

Ahaha, thank you! I'm glad you can see this happening.

I am loving this fic so far!! :)

Thanks! I'm glad to hear it.

Marnie is a little devil XD. She just expsoed Foggy liek that. Love it.

She really is. Thank you! I'm glad you liked this part.

They got through the rest of dinner without further incident, though this was largely due to the gimlet eye Maggie would cast upon her children any time it looked like one of them was about to start something. Matt only knew this because Foggy gave him a hushed running commentary on the behavior and body language of the others at the table, which was kind of him, even though it occasionally caused Matt to choke on his water or his latest morsel at inconvenient moments.

Frank asked him more than once if he was feeling all right. The final time this happened, Matt slid his foot toward Foggy’s under the table and gave it a gentle kick. Foggy got the message, breathing a quick apology and keeping his interpretation of everyone’s actions to himself from that point on.

When dinner was over, and the brownies Matt brought with him had been warmed slightly in the oven and topped with vanilla ice cream and chocolate sauce the Nelson’s had already, they all dug into their dessert with gratifying enthusiasm; this was his first real family dinner since his dad was killed, and Matt hadn’t known quite what to do. All he had to go on was what he had witnessed in television and read in books, and gleaned unintentionally from the sounds of other people’s lives as they all seemed to pass him by. It was nice to know that he could extrapolate well enough from the various examples available to him in order to function at least somewhat normally around others - especially when those others were Foggy’s family, which felt inexplicably vital. He needed the Nelsons to like him, or else he felt certain that Foggy would no longer be allowed to be such a presence in his life, and even the thought of no longer having Foggy around left Matt feeling gutted.

Stick would be disgusted at Matt for letting himself grow so attached to another person, but Stick no longer had a say in Matt’s life. He abdicated any rights he might have had when he left Matt in that dilapidated building, on his own, with every indication that he would never again return.

He felt Foggy lean closer to him before his young friend whispered, “Did that brownie insult your lineage? Make fun of your hair?”

“What?” Matt uttered back softly.

“You’re kind of stabbing it, Matt, which seems like a crime. These brownies are divine.” Foggy coughed. “Sorry. Not trying to make fun of your faith, or whatever.”

Matt’s lips twitched up at the corners, and he consciously relaxed his hold on his fork before leaning in just as closely to tell Foggy, “I’m pretty sure we can let that one slide. These are pretty good brownies.”

“You look so smug right now. Like a cat who brought its owner the fattest mouse. Which is kind of gross when you think about it. Why do pets always have to bring you furry animals? Why can’t they bring you pine cones, or flowers, or something that wasn’t a cute, fuzzy rodent?”

“I’d imagine it’s because they don’t see the value in such things. They want to give the people they love what they consider offerings worthy of them, and what could be more worthy to a pet - especially a predator such as a cat - than the mouse or the bird they had to work so hard to capture?”

“Mmm. Still, I definitely prefer the brownies.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Neither of them risked taking this metaphor to its natural conclusion - partly because they were still feeling each other out, Marnie’s revelations aside, and partly because any explorations of this new dynamic to their relationship needed to wait until they were no longer in the midst of a Nelson family evening.

To his left, Frank cleared his throat, startling Matt. That was strange. Normally, he would have sensed Frank coming as soon as he began moving his way.

He’d become too absorbed in Foggy to notice the rest of the world. He needed to work on that, which was going to prove difficult.

Few things were as arresting as Foggy Nelson.

“I’m going out to the balcony for a smoke, Matt. Maggie doesn’t like it when I do it in the house. I thought you might join me.”

Matt swallowed. That didn’t sound like a question, though Frank’s voice had been pleasant enough. “Of course.” He unfolded his cane and stood to follow the heavy sounds of Frank’s feet on the easily giving carpet.

“Cigarette?” Frank offered once the door to the balcony had closed behind them.

“No, thank you.”

“Hmm. Well, you don’t smoke. There’s another point in your favor. Oh, I know,” he added before Matt could decide how to react, “why would it matter to me either way, when I do it? The thing is, I started when I was just a kid, and no matter what Mags’s tried, I’ve never been able to quit. Foggy doesn’t mind. He’s too happy to let people do what they like. But you’re already a good bit older than my son, and it would be best not to take too many chances, you know? Got to try and stick around as long as possible.”

Matt was undeniably mystified. “I’m sorry?”

“Matt,” his friend’s father began patiently, “there’s something you ought to know about us Nelsons. We tend to fall in love young, and when we do, it’s for life. I met Maggie in my freshman year of high school. Prettiest thing I ever saw, and smart, too. Way smarter than I ever was. Well, that was that. I knew she was the one for me.” He huffed softly. “She took a bit more convincing, but I won her over, in the end. That’s another thing about us Nelsons: we’re damned persistent when we want to be. We got together in our junior year, and got married the day after our high school graduation.”

“And you think that Foggy-”

“Oh, I know it. All I’ve got to do is take one look at his face when he’s looking at you, or talking about you - these days, it seems like he’s always talking about you - and I can tell that he’s a gonner.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Nelson-”

“It’s Frank, son. And what are you trying to apologize for? So far as I know, you haven’t done anything to be sorry about.”

Matt took a deep breath. “I know I’m not exactly the ideal when it comes to people you would choose for your son - or any of your children.”

“Do you, now?” Frank asked, sounding indulgent, as though he was humoring Matt somehow.

“As you’ve already stated, I’m considerably older than Foggy, and I may be an attorney, but I’m not nearly as well off as that sort of profession tends to imply, and - well.” He faltered. It had been a long time since he had allowed himself to perceive himself as being somehow less than other people. He could understand the world with an acuity most could never imagine, but there were some things that even his abilities could not account for.

“If you think any of those things make you less worthy of my son, you’re not nearly as smart as I’ve been led to believe,” Frank informed him mildly, not needing to hear the last putative strike against Matt’s person to know what it would be.

“Oh,” Matt said faintly. What else could he say to that, really? Aside from, “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, Matt. If you want, you can thank your saints and your holy trinity, but really, the one you should be thanking is Foggy.”

“I intend to.” Every day. For as long as Foggy would let him, which, if Frank was to be believed - and Matt could sense nothing which led him to think otherwise - would be as long as they both lived.

Matt was more than fine with that.

Several nights after visiting with Foggy’s family, Matt was out patrolling his city, listening for any signs of the criminals who had been keeping him busy well into the small hours of the morning.

Foggy had made a few pointed comments about the dark circles under his eyes just this morning, while he helped Matt around his office. “Seriously, Matt, you’re lucky you can’t see them.” He’d paused after that particular pearl of wisdom and Matt had practically been able to hear the ensuing self-flagellation.

“I’ll take your word for it,” Matt had told him, making his tone quietly amused.

That had been over twelve hours ago. Matt had taken Foggy to lunch again, and then he reluctantly said goodbye. His young friend still had school work to finish, after all, and a family who would doubtlessly appreciate the chance to spend some time with him later on.

He’d nearly dragged Foggy back and planted a kiss on his constantly moving lips, but he’d managed to restrain himself. They still hadn’t addressed Marnie’s rather blunt statements, though Matt could tell it was only a matter of time.

Hopefully, that particular discussion could wait until Matt had dealt with the parasite infecting Hell’s Kitchen. There were some things Foggy deserved to know before they made any changes to the parameters of their relationship, and Matt needed to be able to keep him close until the danger stalking his city’s streets passed. That meant that he could not afford to do anything that would make Foggy withdraw from him, and telling Foggy about his abilities would almost certainly do that.

There was a high-pitched shriek - and not the playful kind - from an alley not far from where the Nelsons lived, and Matt dove off of the roof, making for the struggle beginning to unfold.

Before he could swoop down on the four men who were attacking what sounded like a girl in her late teens or early twenties, he heard someone calling, “HEY! YOU! You want to try fighting someone who isn’t half your size?”

He knew that voice. He knew the cadence of that heartbeat, and all of its many variations. He knew that scent.

It smelled like home.

Matt’s heart seized in his chest, and then he started running faster. As fast as he could possibly run. He flung his body into the fray, taking out two of the men in seconds, and then rounding on the other two, who were fighting with Foggy - because of course it was Foggy.

He knocked one of the men out, and then heard the sound of a baseball bat slamming into the head of the other.

Twisting toward Foggy, he tilted his head curiously.

“What? You’ve got your crazy ninja thing going on, and I’ve got a bat. Don’t judge me, man. I just finished playing a game with some of the other guys in the neighborhood.” He sucked in a breath and took a step closer, his heart beginning to pump even more furiously than it had when he faced insurmountable odds for the sake of the young woman currently slumped against the wall.

Speaking of which: “We should get her somewhere safe,” Matt said firmly. He sniffed the air carefully. “She doesn’t seem to need medical attention, but she should be kept warm, to ward off shock, and someone needs to report them,” he nudged one of his boots into the side of the man Foggy had brained with his bat,” to the proper authorities.”

“So you do admit that you’re not one,” Foggy noted. Then he shook himself. “Right. Okay, this is Staci. She lives a few apartments down from me. Let’s get her home. Her grandmother should be there.” He turned to Staci. “Hey, Stace? It’s me. Foggy. Your grandmother used to babysit me when I was a kid, remember? We watched Power Rangers and ate Fruit Rollups?”

Staci took a quivering breath. “You always hogged the strawberry ones,” she said, her mouth sounding dry.

“Hogging is such a strong word.”

“Hmmf,” Staci huffed weakly.

“Come on, let’s get you home.”

They called 911 and reported the four men. Then, together, Matt and Foggy guarded the young woman until they reached the right apartment, where a much older woman exclaimed over the sight of her grandchild and thanked Matt and Foggy profusely while she got Staci settled on the living room couch.

“Always such a good boy,” she claimed, directing her words towards Foggy.

“Thanks, Mrs. P. I’m just glad we were able to help.”

They were eventually able to depart, and once the door to Staci’s apartment closed, Foggy wrapped his hand around Matt’s wrist and ordered, “Come with me.”

He led Matt up to the roof of the apartment building, never letting go, and then he turned and faced Matt, the bones in his back and shoulders shifting against each other in a way that suggested he was squaring his shoulders.

“You’ve got some explaining to do, Matthew.”

“What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me, Murdock. I’d know that face anywhere. In what universe did you actually think a mask that only covers the top half of your face would be enough to conceal your identity?”

Matt swallowed roughly. “I can’t actually tell one way or the other,” he admitted, giving up on trying to convince Foggy that he was wrong.

“Because you’re blind.”

“Yeah.” Miserably, he pulled the mask off, letting Foggy see his sightless eyes, which were normally hidden by his shades.

He felt naked. Like all of his flaws were being held under a microscope.

“Even though you can kick the asses of people who are at least fifty percent bigger than you, if not more, and not even break a sweat.”

“Yes.”

Foggy sucked in a long, slow breath through his nose. “How?”

He had never wanted Foggy to find out like this.

“It started with the truck transporting toxic waste illegally through Hell’s Kitchen.”

---

“Wow,” Foggy said some time later.

“What?” Matt asked. Foggy had been calm for a good while at this point, but now it seemed as though something had upset him again.

“This Stick guy sounds like an asshole.”

Matt chuckled wanly, still finding it hard to believe that they were here, having this conversation. “He was. Or is. I haven’t heard from him in twenty years. I have no idea how he is or what he’s been doing.”

“Good,” Foggy said, his tone decisive.

“Good?”

“Yeah. A man like that has no business being around children, and he definitely shouldn’t be anywhere near you. I mean, he’s the reason you never really spend time with anyone, isn’t he?”

“Uh, yeah. I suppose after that it was hard to justify getting close to anyone.” He wasn’t sure where this was going. For once, Foggy, who was usually such an open book, was hard to read.

Foggy didn’t leave him floundering for long. “But you got close to me,” he stated.

“I couldn’t - couldn’t make myself stay away,” Matt confessed.

“Why?”

“Surely you know.”

“Maybe,” Foggy allowed. “But I’d really like to hear you say it.”

Matt found himself running his fingers over the fabric of the mask. Fidgeting. It was one of the things Stick had tried to rid him of during his training. A ‘tell’ he said Matt couldn’t afford.

He hadn’t been successful.

“You - you’re so different from everyone else. And I know how pat that sounds, but it’s - it’s the truth. You never let other people dictate what you think or how you act, and it isn’t out of some sort of rebellion against social norms. You’re just comfortable with who you are, and you’re so smart and kind and funny and thoughtful, and I don’t know how anyone could meet you and not want to see you every day for the rest of their lives.”

“Oh,” Foggy said quietly. “Are we talking about this now? ‘Cause I kind of thought we were doing the whole thing where we weren't gonna talk about it.”

“I was hoping to wait until I’d sorted a few things out, but I hadn’t taken the possibility of you going after human traffickers with a baseball bat into consideration.”

“Things? What things? And what was that about human traffickers? There are people like that in Hell’s Kitchen? And they tried to take Staci? She wants to go to nursing school in the fall. She used to let me steal all the strawberry Fruit Rollups.” Foggy sank down to sit on the roof slowly, like his legs couldn’t support his weight any longer.

“That’s the kind of thing I have to sort out,” Matt told him quietly. “There’s someone trying to take over this city, and I have to find them and make sure they’re dealt with, to the full extent of the law. Until then -”

Foggy took a steadying breath. “Yeah. I get it.”

“Do me a favor?” Matt asked.

“What?”

“Don’t play anymore games after the sun’s gone down?”

“Hey, it worked out this time,” Foggy objected.

“Yeah, this time. What happens if the next time, I’m on the other side of town, and I can’t get to you in time?” Matt hesitated and then added, “Foggy, I can’t - I can’t lose you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Laughing kindly, Foggy told him, “You’d do what you’ve been doing. You’d save the little people in the courtroom by day, and on the streets at night. You don’t need me, Matty.”

“You couldn’t possibly be more wrong,” Matt said, the words sounding like a vow, fervent and reverent.

His heart beating double-time, Foggy promised, “Okay. No more baseball at night.”

“And no more going after criminals with nothing but a bat?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

A few months later, Matt set a cup of coffee down at the register, and Foggy looked up with a tired smile, taking in the lack of bruising and lacerations on Matt’s face and hands.

He’d been in far less fights since Fisk was put away. It took a heavy load off of Foggy’s shoulders, and he knew Matt felt better now that the criminal organization Fisk headed was out of commission.

Leaning against the counter, Matt announced, “I need an outfit to wear to my boyfriend’s graduation. I have it on good authority you’re the best person who can help me with that.”

Foggy snorted. “You’re a dork, Matt.” He stepped away to tell his boss that he was taking his break, and then led Matt to the staff room with Matt’s hand the crook of Foggy’s arm. “You still don’t have to bribe me, you know. I'm pretty sure the recommendation letter you wrote to Columbia went above and beyond.”

“Don’t think of it as a bribe. I remember what finals were like. You’re probably exhausted.”

“Well, you’re not wrong.” He took a sip of his coffee and let out a surprised noise. “Does this have extra espresso in it? Whew. You really do love me.”

“Yeah, I do.”

Foggy paused with his drink halfway to his mouth. “Oh.” His hair made a soft shhhing sound as his tilted his head. “I love you, too,” he said.

His heartbeat was steady and strong as a drum in Matt’s ears.

Finis

Awwwww. This was the loveliest thing. Thank you!

You're welcome, and thank you. I'm glad you liked it!

This is absolutely fabulous and I adored it from beginning to end. Thank you for sharing! 💕

Oh, wow, thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed it so much. :)

Please, for the love of God, put this on AO3 (if you haven't yet) and put a link to it on here. I neeed to bookmark this for when the show gets too angsty.

They already put it on ao3. :)

http://archiveofourown.org/works/4148010

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Prompt Post #3

Part Five : Matt/Foggy - Working Retail, Teenage!Foggy

Part Five and Three Quarters : Matt/Foggy - Working Retail, Teenage!Foggy

Re: Part Five and Three Quarters : Matt/Foggy - Working Retail, Teenage!Foggy

Re: Part Five and Three Quarters : Matt/Foggy - Working Retail, Teenage!Foggy

Re: Part Five and Three Quarters : Matt/Foggy - Working Retail, Teenage!Foggy

Re: Part Five and Three Quarters : Matt/Foggy - Working Retail, Teenage!Foggy

Re: Part Five and Three Quarters : Matt/Foggy - Working Retail, Teenage!Foggy

Re: Part Five and Three Quarters : Matt/Foggy - Working Retail, Teenage!Foggy

Re: Part Five and Three Quarters : Matt/Foggy - Working Retail, Teenage!Foggy

Re: Part Five and Three Quarters : Matt/Foggy - Working Retail, Teenage!Foggy

Re: Part Five and Three Quarters : Matt/Foggy - Working Retail, Teenage!Foggy

Part Six : Matt/Foggy - Working Retail, Teenage!Foggy

Part Seven : Matt/Foggy - Working Retail, Teenage!Foggy

Part Eight : Matt/Foggy - Working Retail, Teenage!Foggy

Re: Part Eight : Matt/Foggy - Working Retail, Teenage!Foggy

Re: Part Eight : Matt/Foggy - Working Retail, Teenage!Foggy

Re: Part Eight : Matt/Foggy - Working Retail, Teenage!Foggy

Re: Part Eight : Matt/Foggy - Working Retail, Teenage!Foggy

Re: Part Eight : Matt/Foggy - Working Retail, Teenage!Foggy

Re: Part Eight : Matt/Foggy - Working Retail, Teenage!Foggy