daredevilkink | Prompt Post #4

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Prompt Post #4

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21.

He never felt comfortable in a tux. Even at his own wedding he wore a simple white suit, but no, here, amongst the best of the bet of Manhattan's socialites, the tuxedo was a must. Foggy pulls at his bowtie — it's ridiculous, the bowtie, and he hates it — and smiles at the people that pass him by, congratulating him briefly on the go. He gulps down his champagne and feels too hot, surrounded by people that he doesn't fit with.

He fishes out a waiter from amongst the crowd, gives him his empty glass and grabs a full one, heads out to the garden terrace that he has spied here earlier. Wendell has rented this ballroom exclusively for tonight, might as well be the person who justifies the extra expense the rooftop garden was.

He sits down on a marble bench and sips his champagne, enjoys the view of the city. He can see his office and his apartment building from here. Somehow it doesn't make him happy.

"Hi," says the bush next to the bench. Foggy barely manages not to spill the champagne on his shirt.

"Jesus," he says and puts his glass down. A little boy — no older than five, is his estimate — peeks out from behind the bush, a sheepish expression on his face. "You've scared me."

"Sorry." The kid climbs onto the bench to sit next to Foggy. Foggy moves his glass to make room for him. "I was hiding."

"Why?" Foggy asks. The kid is dressed in a kid-sized tuxedo not unlike his own, but thankfully was spared the bowtie. He has unruly black hair that sticks out in every possible direction and happy, hazel eyes. He vaguely reminds Foggy of someone, but he cannot quite place whom.

The kid shrugs and swings his legs. "Grandpa keeps introducing me to new people. It's boring." Ah. So this must be Kirsten's son. Foggy cocks his head. The boy has her hair and the shape of her eyes, he does look like her, but it's not it and Foggy still cannot figure it out. Good thing the kid doesn't look like Wendell, though. "I'm Jack."

The boy extends his little hand and Foggy takes it, shakes it hard. "Nice to meet you, Jack. I'm Franklin."

The kid's eyes go wide with surprise at that and then he beams, smiles so brilliantly it makes his whole face glow with happiness. "I'm Franklin too!" he says happily and climbs to sit cross-legged on the bench. He observes Foggy with wide, excited eyes. "That's my middle name! Daddy says--"

Foggy doesn't find out what Jack's daddy says. A young woman in a purple dress comes out onto the terrace; Jack yelps and dives off the bench and back behind his bush.

"Jackie!" the girl calls out. "Jackie, come on, it's not funny anymore!"

"That's Kate," the bush informs Foggy in a conspiratorial whisper. "She's my babysitter. Grandpa hates her, because she's a Bishop. Daddy thinks she's okay, though."

"And what do you think?" Foggy asks the bush, in an equally quiet voice.

"I'm gonna marry her when I grow up."

Foggy laughs under his breath. Kate Bishop, meanwhile, shakes her head and goes back inside. The bush exhales softly and a minute later Jack climbs back onto the bench.

"I don't want to go back inside," he pouts.

Foggy pats his knee. "You might have to, at some point."

Jack looks up at him, eyes still wide, curious and so very hazel. "And what about you?

"I'll have to go back too."

"Gotcha!"

Foggy yelps and starts, all but jumps on the bench, manages to knock off his glass. Jack yelps too, tries to run, but the arms of a young woman hold him in place. Kate Bishop tickles him and Jack giggles, trying to squirm out of her embrace.

"You thought you could hide from me, young mister?" Kate Bishop asks. Jack is still giggling. "Hawks never lose their prey."

"Sorry!" Jack pants out. Kate ruffles his already wild hair.

"Come, Jackie. Your dad's looking for you."

Jack takes Kate's hand and she leads him back to the ballroom. He turns and waves at Foggy, and Foggy waves back. When Kate Bishop and the kid disappear inside, Foggy looks down at the remnants of his glass and the champagne spilt on the ground. He sighs, gets up, and follows the two back

22.

He manages to secure himself another glass before Wendell McDuffie finds him in the crowd. He clasps his shoulder in a fatherly way and exclaims, "Franklin, just the person I wanted to see! There's someone I want you to meet."

He steers Foggy towards a group of people standing a bit to the side. Foggy can see Kirsten there, and a middle-aged man with a twenty-something blonde hanging off his arm. Jack is nowhere to be seen, so Foggy assumes Kate Bishop has taken him to his father.

"Franklin, you already know my daughter, Kirsten," Wendell says. Kirsten smiles at him warmly and her eyes convey a silent apology for this whole thing. They're both lawyers, this kind of parties are not their element. "And this is Derek Bishop and his lovely wife Heather."

"So this is your secret weapon, huh?" Derek Bishop asks as he reaches out to clasp Foggy's hand. He freezes when he notices the state of Foggy's right hand — despite the years the fingers still are red and look swollen, are misshapen in places where no one was able to set the shattered bones straight. Derek Bishop swallows and soldiers on, squeezing Foggy's hand. Foggy is used to that kind of reaction now.

"I'm just doing my job," Foggy says and it's true. He's just a lawyer here. He works for a publishing house, but he's not a scout or an editor, he knows nothing about the business of actually publishing a book. His job is to make sure the contracts are air-tight and that everyone is satisfied. He's hardly a hero.

"You wish you had one of these, Derek," Wendell says with a laugh.

"That would certainly level the field," says an amused voice behind them and Foggy freezes. He knows that voice. No matter what, no matter the years and miles between them, he'd know that voice anywhere.

"Ah." Wendell steers him around so that they're standing face to face with the new arrival. "Franklin, this is my son-in-law, Matthew Murdock. Matt, this is the man responsible for the success the New York office is, head of my legal department, Franklin Nelson."

The colour doesn't quite drain from Matt's face, but he certainly pales a little. His grip on his cane becomes tighter and he takes a deep, wheezing breath. Kirsten looks to him with concern, touches his arm gently.

"Baby?" she asks.

Matt exhales. "Foggy," he breathes out so quietly that Foggy is sure no one but him and Kirsten heard it. Kirsten's eyes widen and dart over to Foggy. Matt manages to compose himself and plasters a strained smile on his face, of the kind that Foggy remembers. He offers his hand. "A pleasure to meet you."

Foggy takes the offered hand. Matt's back goes string-tight when their hands touch and Foggy realises that Matt has never touched him after--after that, that Matt never felt what was done to Foggy's hand. Foggy snatches it back as quickly as is prudent.

On his left, Wendell starts talking about the publishing prospects.

23.

"Oh, excuse us, I think I can see Virginia Potts..."

Wendell and Derek Bishop leave them, pulled away by some mutual friend. Heather Bishop follows them, clearly happy to be at the party, but as lost as Foggy is feeling. That leaves Foggy all alone with Kirsten and Matt. Kirsten's eyes keep getting narrower and narrower and her lips form a tight line. Matt--Jesus,Matt. He's wearing a tux as well, with a red bowtie. His hair is slicked back and he looks good, he looks healthy even if slightly rattled now. He's playing with his cane, fiddling with it, and it's a habit he's always had, had to do something with his hands when he was nervous and anxious.

"This is a surprise," Matt forces out eventually and yes, he does sound surprised, but nothing else. Is it a good kind of a surprise? The bad kind?

"Yeah," Foggy says, because fuck, this is a surprise and that's pretty much all he can say at this point. He hates how choked up his voice sounds.

"Foggy," Matt starts, but whatever he was about to say gets interrupted.

"Daddyyy!" The black blur that Foggy recognises as Jack — Jack, Jack, of course — collides with Matt's legs. Kirsten takes his cane and Matt bends, scoops Jack up into his arms.

"Hiya, Jackie," he says with a grin. "Heard you were hiding from Katie."

"I was, but then I wasn't, and I made a friend," Jack says quickly, out of breath. He notices Foggy on his left and waves. "Hi!" He turns back to his father. "And then Kate got a phone call, and I bet her I could get to you before her and tell you myself, and I did, see?"

"No, but I can certainly hear," Matt answers and both Foggy and Kirsten snicker at the bad joke. Foggy tries to mask his as a cough, feeling guilty all of a sudden. "What was Kate's phone call about?"

"Clint called," Kate Bishop explains, having almost magically appeared behind Matt. Her voice drops to a whisper. "There's a situation in Midtown. They could use your help."

Matt nods. "Right." He passes Jack to Kirsten. The kid yawns loudly and settles his head against his mother's shoulder. "Kirsten...?"

"If that was Tony Stark calling you know I wouldn't let you," she says. "But since Clint's my favourite Avenger, go. Go be a hero." She leans in and kisses Matt's cheek. "Don't get yourself killed, I'll see you at home."

Matt nods again. Kate Bishop is already in the middle of the ballroom; she turns around, notices that Matt's not following her, and stops, waiting.

"Foggy..." Matt says again, but this time it's not cut off, it's everything he wanted to say. He shakes his head. "It was nice seeing you again."

"Likewise," Foggy murmurs after Matt's retreating back.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH what is this I can't even

I LOVE THIS!!!!!

SCREAMING ANON AND YOU ARE CORRECT GOD THIS WAS SO EXCITING!!!!!!!!!

I don't know if I can keep reading this, it hurts too much, but it's so gooooooooooood

I love where you're going with this! Your writing is just lovely. The life Matt has built for himself is wonderful (Kirsten!!!!! Kate!!!! Jack!!!!!!!!) but also sad in a way bc he still missed his bff. Are we going to find out what Karen's been up to as well? Looking forward to more!!

A!A: Thank you! Matt certainly has his life together, much more than Foggy expected him to. I couldn't help myself and just had to include Kirsten and Jackie, and when I thought about who could be the kid's babysitter, Kate Bishop immediately came to mind. Matt embraced the life of superheroics fully so why not take advantage of that? He's on at least friendly terms with the Avengers, and he's enough of a good friend to Luke Cage and Jess Jones that they're willing to leave their daughter with Matt over the weekend. :)

As for Karen - yup! Expect Karen to show up quite soon! And also a special appearance by Matt Murdock's law firm partner.

Oh this is so good - a perfect blend of bittersweet. Oh, I'm so excited to see where this goes and how Matt and Foggy's friendship evolves from here.

(May I ask a spoiler-y question? Is this going to be Matt/Foggy in the end or it will stay Matt/Kirsten and gen Matt&Foggy. I have a hard time reading cheating fic and some warning would be nice)

A!A: 'Friendship' is a strong word to use here. ;)

It's gonna stay Matt/Kirsten. Matt is absolutely, ridiculously in love with his wife, they are 100% happy together and it'd never cross his mind to even contemplate cheating on her. Nope, never.

There MIGHT be a mention of Matt being in love with Foggy before - I'm not sure yet, I'll see how their interactions develop - but it's long in the past, Matt moved on.

Ohhhh my god oh my god ohmygod

This is so good

(OP)

I'm so ridiculously happy right now! You completely made my morning))

Great fill, I love how Matts life turned out, and that Foggy is doing considerably well too.
And Jackie Franklin Murdock, aww.

Can't wait for more! :)

A!A: I'm glad you're enjoying this, OP! :)

24.

Foggy slips out of the party not long after that. He finds a moment when Kirsten is distracted with Jack falling asleep on her, and he leaves, almost runs to the lobby, checks out his coat and grabs a taxi home.

He undresses, puts on a bathrobe and sits down on the bed. He doesn't go to sleep, wouldn't be able to even if he tried.

God.

He gets up and goes to the balcony, leans against the railing — he was right, he can see Central Park from here — and watches the sun rise over New York.

Matt. He's not dead. He's healthy. He's working. He's fine. He's married, has a kid. He's--He's happy.

And Foggy is... not.

God.

When did that happen?

25.

"This is really awkward."

Foggy raises his head from over the newest contract that his intern managed to fuck up. Jesus, young lawyers these days, did they really go through law school without absorbing any knowledge? He and Matt weren't that hopelessly dumb at Landman and Zack, were they? Hopelessly idealistic, perhaps, but nowhere near this brainless. At this point Foggy was afraid of giving the interns anything more complicated to do than making copies and coffee.

Kirsten is standing in the doorway of his office, leaning against the doorframe. Foggy hasn't seen her since the day of the ball. Wendell cornered him at the office the next day and asked about him leaving so quickly, to which Foggy come up with an easy lie about a headache and not feeling well. Wendell let it go, still elated about the book deal and about pulling one over Derek Bishop, and then was gone two days after that, back in San Francisco.

Foggy leans back in his chair. He figured out a way to sit in it, but it's still not comfortable. "A bit," he admits. "I could try talking with your father about going back to San Fran, but I doubt he'd let me."

He doesn't want to go back to San Francisco anymore. He's thought about it. For the first time in years, he's actually thought about what he wants. And he wants to stay in New York. That's his home. He wants to stay, he wants to--he wants to try.

"I'm not talking about that, but true, that's a bit awkward too." Kirsten sighs and lifts her head up, looks to the office ceiling. "It's just... In the past four years I've dreamt about kicking you in the face a lot, and now I've met you and you seem to be--an actually nice person? Don't get me wrong, at times I still get the urge to kick you in the face, but then I think that perhaps you don't deserve it that much?"

"I, uh, I don't think I do?" Foggy says, unsure. He doesn't know what Kirsten is talking about. He has a feeling — a strong one, close to 99% — but he's not sure.

"Yeah, he said you didn't," Kirsten murmurs. "Which is part of the problem."

26.

He's not sure how he ended up by their old office.

It's been close to three months after the book launch ball. He's seen Matt around in court, sometimes with Kirsten, sometimes alone, a few times with that mysterious brunette accompanying him. They've never had the time to exchange more than a few words, always busy, always in a hurry.

Hi, hi, good too see you, sorry, I've gotta go, good luck with your case.

He managed to polish up the contract that his intern maimed — and the intern is gone, HR told him that they didn't see a possibility of continuing the internship given the guy's less than satisfactory performance — and it's been approved and signed, the writer was theirs for an exclusive three-book deal. It was a success. Wendell was ecstatic when he heard and told the whole team involved in this particular deal to take the following week off.

Foggy spent the first three days playing Mario Kart.

Most of his coworkers went away with their families, or made plans with their friends. Foggy--well, he didn't have friends in New York exactly. He had some passing acquaintances, but the person with whom he's had the longest conversations ever since he moved back almost half a year ago, was his porter.

On the fourth day, he stopped by his old apartment. There was a young couple living there now with eleven-month-old twins. They didn't know what happened to the stuff he left in the apartment when he left, the place was completely empty when they rented it. He's not surprised by that. Most of it his landlord has probably thrown away. Foggy tries to remember if there was anything even remotely valuable amongst that stuff. Cannot remember a single thing he owned.

He leaves the place, and the weather is beautiful, it's surprisingly warm for a spring day, so Foggy ends up just wandering around Hell's Kitchen aimlessly and only stops when his feet have carried him to their old office, all without his express permission.

The building looks the same as it did six years ago, only with more signs by the door. Foggy is tempted to go inside; the probability of Matt — and Karen, God, Karen — still being here, still working here, is low. They certainly moved offices, could afford to now, if the number of cases held by Matt and his mysterious brunette partner was any indication.

Yet still. He could go inside. He could knock at the door of whatever office was located in their old space now, introduce himself, tell the man or the woman at the door that he was merely passing by, but could help himself. This happened once to him, when he was a child; an elderly woman knocked on the door of his family's house and said that she used to live in here, years ago, that it was the very first flat she and her husband lived in.

He would sound like her. Yes, I'm terribly sorry, it's just I used to work here, years ago. This was the first office my friend and I had, and we were so happy, so sure that this was a partnership that would last forever. He would sound fond. Wistful. He wound sound like he regretted.

The corridor almost didn't change — almost, because Foggy notices that the door of the financial office was blocked from the inside, by what looked like a large piece of furniture. So the financial office was gone. Foggy turns the doorknob of their old office — a part of him expecting to find the door unlocked, they kept forgetting about locking it, there was nothing of value inside anyway — and the door won't budge. Closed, then. Closed, probably unused for years.

He lets out a small sigh. He doesn't know what he expected.

Somehow not this.

"Look who's decided to show his face here. I'm almost impressed by your lack of introspection and self-preservation instinct."

He turns around on his heel and stares. Designer pumps, long legs, pencil skirt, a shirt that is barely on the tasteful side of 'too tight', thick file under one arm, raised brows and a headful of brown hair falling onto shoulders in a soft wave. He stares some more.

Marci Stahl just smirks.

Author!Anon is going on a trip tomorrow, so there will be no updates, most likely the day after tomorrow either. So here is one last snippet for you, because I love Marci Stahl and couldn't help myself. When I'm back from my trip, I swear we'll go back to seeing Foggy interact with Matt (and Jackie! because Jackie Franklin Murdock is a cutie!).

***

27.

"Marci?" he asks, his voice full of disbelief.

"Astoundingly observant as ever," Marci says. She waves her hand. "Are you just going to stand there like that? At least let me open the door."

He moves to the side. Marci steps up, puts the file under her chin and presses it to her sternum, fumbles with her purse. She fishes out a set of keys with a hum, then she fumbles with the lock. It clicks and the door opens. Marci pushes it and walks inside; Foggy peeks over her shoulder.

The office--The office. It looks like an update version of what they had here years ago, when this space belonged to Nelson, Murdock and Page. There's a sturdy wooden desk where Karen's wobbly one stood, a state-of-art copying machine where that disaster that Karen bought was. A few additional bookcases on both sides of the room. The wall separating their office from the financial one--is gone. Foggy blinks. There's still no wall.

Marci drops the thick file on the desk-that-was-Karen's and moves right, opens the door of the room that used to be Foggy's office. She glances at him over her shoulder. "First you were all but camping outside and now you don't even want to enter? Make up your mind, Foggy-Bear."

He steps inside and suddenly cannot breathe. It turns out the wall separating their office from the financial one is not entirely gone; most of it is, though, and a passageway was created between the two. Thanks to that the amount of space pretty much doubled.

"What happened to the wall?" he asks, because it seems like a safe question. There's a million others he'd like to ask, but doesn't know how to phrase.

"We had it removed three years ago," Marci explains. In Foggy's old office, she opens a window and then moves to rummage through shelves of bookcases that weren't there before. "After Kirsten come on board we kind of run out of space. The lovebirds didn't want to share a desk, so we needed extra."

"Kirsten? We?"

"A-ha!" Marci murmurs and picks up one of the folders from the shelf. She straightens and turns towards Foggy. "Yes, Kirsten. McDuffie, you work for her evil corporate father now, surely you've heard."

"I was under the impression that Kirsten worked with--with Matt," Foggy says slowly. The alternative seems ridiculous. "Not with you."

"She does work with her husband dear," Marci replies, her voice turning achingly sweet as it always did when she was being extra mean. "And Murdock in turn works with me. We're all partners at a prestigious law firm, see how these things work out? Foggy-Bear, didn't you notice the sign by the door? 'Murdock, Stahl and McDuffie, attorneys-at-law'. And damn good attorneys, I may add."

Apparently not as ridiculous. Somehow he manages to keep his jaw from dropping. "You work with Matt? You work with Matt?"

"When you bailed on him, someone had to come in and make sure Murdock didn't drown here all on his lonesome. Luckily for him and the world at large, I was still unemployed at the time." Marci seats herself behind the desk and opens the folder. "And when we managed to secure Steve Rogers as a client, I thought that leaving was a bad idea. Who would want to leave a firm that represents Captain America?" She looks up at him and smiles sweetly. "Now please get out, some of us actually have work to do and would really like to do it. If you're waiting for one of the lovebirds, you can do that outside of my office. That's what the couch out there is for."

Foggy runs a hand over his face, but drops it when the meaning of the last two sentences dawns on him. Her office. Of course, she worked here, she was a partner here, apparently. But. Marci's office. "This was my office," he says quietly.

"It was your office. And now it is my office," Marci replies. "Crazy how these things change, isn't it. But that's just it. Circle of life, Foggy-Bear."

Foggy will elave i have that feeling he will elave. Everything has change even him and marci talks like she is mad at him. damn everythinh hurts

A!A: Marci... Marci IS mad at him. I'm glad that you picked up on that. Foggy will eventually find out the reason for this.

Re: Fill: All Our Yesteryears [4,5/?]

(Anonymous) - 2015-06-30 05:33 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Fill: All Our Yesteryears [4,5/?]

(Anonymous) - 2015-06-30 22:46 (UTC) - Expand

LMAO, I'm a bad person because I'm very much enjoying seeing Foggy miserable and Matt having moved on with his life.

(I love Foggy! I hate people who fuck off and leave their friends behind. At the risk of this turning into a rant - Foggy could have just as easily been injured for non-Daredevil-related shit, like how Ulrich was killed and Karen nearly was too ~~YOU DON'T LEAVE PEOPLE BEHIND ohana mEANS FAMILY AND FAMILY MEANS okay im done now~~)

Im on both sides here, Matt can stay mad but Foggy can be mad too, i mean even if it was non related Daredevil things Hell's kitchen was/is a dangerous place and he is not Matt, he wont fight back, eh doesnt ahve super sense and figths in 5 fifferent ways, he cant defeat them, so what better than start from scratch in anotehr place? and if not like Foggy have been msierable the whole time, he enjoyed being away and now shit happened same for Matt but the otehr way around, Shit happened and now he has move on and so has Foggy and the thing is now that they are in the same place again, what can they do to have their frienship back?

Re: Fill: All Our Yesteryears [4,5/?]

(Anonymous) - 2015-06-30 04:30 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Fill: All Our Yesteryears [4,5/?]

(Anonymous) - 2015-06-30 04:56 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Fill: All Our Yesteryears [4,5/?]

(Anonymous) - 2015-06-30 05:31 (UTC) - Expand

Yesssss I freaking love Marci!!! But oh god this hurts sm. I feel so bad for foggy like I get that he kinda chose to leave but srsly, he'd been tortured and ugh ughhhhh, I cannot bring myself to blame him. I can't wait to see how this all pans out, and see him talk to Matt again even though it'll probably rip my heart out. This is amazing <3

I was bored on the train yesterday and this happened!

***

28.

He doesn't wait for the lovebirds.

29.

That night he cannot sleep. He tosses and turns, throws off the covers and pulls them back up to his nose in turns. His mind keeps insisting on replaying the conversation in the office in its entirety, every little detail open for being overanalysed and worried and despaired over.

It was strange, that was obvious from the start. He's always known that Marci had a mean streak a mile wide and never passed up on an opportunity to be awful to someone, and it was that quality — something he shamefully, but did admit — was what first attracted him to her. Her apparent lack of care and a refreshingly blase attitude. But this was different. He's never seen Marci being so gleefully vicious before, not even towards a most hated enemy that Marci had in spades while in Columbia.

Lack of introspection and self-preservation instinct.

And then there was Kirsten, two weeks ago in his office. Someone who's for years now been dreaming about kicking a complete stranger in the face.

For the first time — and God, this is shameful to admit — it occurs to Foggy that he doesn't really know what happened in New York after he left. Karen wasn't very forthcoming with information at first, and then she stopped calling altogether. Anything could have happened in that time, literally anything, and he didn't know. Wouldn't have known.

He's suddenly overcome with a strong feeling that whatever it was that happened, it was nothing good.

He pulls a pillow over his head and tries to sleep.

30.

He dreams of blood and pain, guns and knives and hammers, antiseptic smell of hospitals, sobs and screams that are not his own, and wakes up tired, covered in sweat and tears.

31.

An unknown number calls him Sunday afternoon.

Foggy rolls his eyes at the screen — because really? just when he's about to break his own record at Guitar Hero? — but decides to reaches out and pick up the call. The only people who have this number are Wendell, Foggy's assistant Stuart, and his dumb interns, though Foggy isn't exactly sure how they got it. It's enough that they did, which — while annoying, because personal number — was also beneficial; the dumb interns had a tendency to cause disasters at any time of day and night, including the weekends, and then called Foggy for help, from a different number every other week.

He was suspecting burner phones, obtained in order to make sure he didn't figure out which one of them had the worst track record.

Or maybe it weren't the numbers that were different every other week, but the interns. Foggy still doesn't recognise most of their faces anyway.

The point is, there is no one in Foggy's life who would have this number and would want something not work-related, so Foggy pauses the game and answers.

"What?" he asks tiredly, but makes sure to throw in a bit of irritation into the question. The intern calling will be terrified come tomorrow morning. It brings him some satisfaction when he thinks about it, and then he realises that he's turning into Mr. Landman.

He's greeted with silence. Maybe the intern got cold feet. And then, "um, hi, Foggy."

He almost drops the phone.

"It's, um, Matt," Matt says, as if he didn't think that Foggy would recognise his voice anywhere, at any moment. Maybe he doesn't think so. "Am I interrupting you?"

Foggy glances at the paused and abandoned Guitar Hero set. "Not at all," he answers truthfully.

Matt laughs nervously. "That's--That's great. I, uh, Kirsten suggested that I should try, she got your number off Wendell, said it wouldn't hurt to check, so I'm, uh... "Matt trails off. Foggy patiently waits for him to continue. "This is sudden, and you are more than welcome to say 'no', but... Are you doing anything tonight? Because I, uh," Foggy inhales sharply and holds his breath, "becauseIhavefavourtoask."

Foggy blinks.

"Sorry?" he asks. "I didn't catch the last one."

Matt clears his throat. "I, uh, I have a favour to ask."

"Sure?"

"Could you, um, could you babysit Jack for a few hours?"

He phone slips from his grasp again.

"Babysit Jack?" Foggy echoes, because of all the things Matt could have said, this was the one Foggy expected the least.

"Kirsten and I are going to the D.A.'s fundraiser party tonight and we've just lost our help," Matt hastens to explain. "Marci was going to watch him, but she had a family emergency, and everyone else is busy tonight. Kate is in Hamptons with her sister, Claire is out of town, Luke and Jess are out of town, Clint's back at the farm and Danny is out of the question." Matt pauses for breath. "I'm sorry for asking you so out of the blue, but trust me, I wouldn't be calling if there was literally anyone else I could ask. I promise you I wouldn't, but right now my choices are limited to you and Tony Stark, and the last time I left Jack with Tony Stark, his son and mine blew up half of our apartment. I'm not in a hurry to live through a repeat of that and my insurance wouldn't survive it anyway."

"Uh..."

"You can say 'no'," Matt says. He sounds somewhat hopeful, as if he wanted Foggy to say 'no'.

"No, no, it's--Shit, no, I'd love to," Foggy says. He hears Matt exhale on the other side of the call, but he's not sure if it's in relief or disappointment. "My evening plans consisted of getting drunk to a Firefly rerun and anything beats that. Just tell me when and where and I'll be there."

Matt laughs softly into the phone. He gives Foggy the address and Foggy promises to be there in twenty minutes.

32.

Jack watches him with an unhappy face.

"Why can't I go with you?" he asks.

"Because it's a very boring party, even worse than Grandpa's, that will end very late," Matt explains patiently, crouching in the hall and holding Jack's hand gently.

"So why can't Aunt Marci stay with me? Or Kate?" Jack pouts. He pouts, makes a sad face, his mouth turns into an upside-down horseshoe, and he looks so much like Matt in that moment — a would-be carbon copy if not for his black hair and slightly darker complexion — that it takes Foggy's breath away. How could he have not seen it instantly?

"Kate's spending the weekend with Susan, you know that," Matt reminds him. "And Aunt Marci's mum got sick, so Aunt Marci had to go and see her. Like we do when Mummy is sick."

Jack nods. "Okay." He looks back at Foggy. "He's okay."

"He is," Matt agrees. "And you know what else? Mr. Franklin really likes dinosaurs."

Jack's eyes widen excitedly and his mouth forms an 'o'. "Really?"

Matt grins. "Really." Jack's brilliant smile is directed first at his father, then at Foggy. "Be good, okay?"

"Da-aad."

"Jackie, promise. No blowing up things and don't you even try to convince Mr. Franklin that you're allowed to stay up till midnight. Promise."

"Okay," Jack sighs, resigned. "I promise."

"Kiss and hug?"

Jack delivers.

"There's a fruit salad in the fridge in case either of you gets hungry," Kirsten tells Foggy when she appears on the stairs leading to the first floor of their apartment. She looks stunning in a long, crimson dress. "Our numbers are on the fridge. If anything happens, anything at all, call us."

"No problem," Foggy says. Jack moves to his side and slips his hand into Foggy's much larger one. Foggy can't help but squeeze.

Matt gets up. "Thank you for doing this," he says. Runs a hand over his suit jacket. "You're a great--" He pauses, frowns. "You're a great help."

Foggy shrugs. "I shrugged," he says. "And it's no problem at all. I love kids, I've spent most of my teenage years minding various adolescent cousins."

Matt smiles. "Yes, I know." He takes Kirsten's hand. "We'll try to be back around midnight. Spare keys are on the kitchen table, if you'd need them."

"Be good, Jackie," Kirsten adds. She blows him a kiss that Jack 'catches' happily. "Love you very, very much."

"Bye!" Jack waves.

After Matt and Kirsten leave the apartment, Jack turns to Foggy with a grin. "Wanna play Jurassic Park?"

"Why not," Foggy says.

What an odd request coming all of the sudden and nooen is in town... mmm...
Im sure Matt and Kisten could take the child with them and that was just an excuse to get in touch with Foggy.

Re: Fill: All Our Yesteryears [5/?]

(Anonymous) - 2015-07-01 16:18 (UTC) - Expand

33.

Jack dumps the contents of his toybox on the living room floor. The sheer number of dinosaur figurines that this boy owns is staggering. They come in all breeds, sizes and colours. Forget about Jurrasic Park, he could have a dinosaur army if he wanted to. Jack picks up two toys; Foggy accepts the T-Rex and brachiosaurus that the kid hands him.

"So you like dinosaurs, huh?"

Jack nods. He divides his toys into groups, puts all the dinosaurs of the same type into separate circles. Like in a zoo, Foggy thinks. "I'm gonna study dinosaurs when I grow up," Jack informs him.

"Before or after you marry Kate Bishop?"

Jack ponders the question for a moment, taps his chin, deep in thought. "After," he decides eventually. "I'm gonna marry Kate and then we'll study dinosaurs together."

Foggy turns the T-Rex in his hand. "But does Kate like dinosaurs?"

Jack opens his mouth to answer, but nothing comes out. He closes it and his expression turns sheepish. He lowers his eyes and starts picking at the rim of his T-shirt, another goddamn adorable Matt-ism that makes Foggy want to cry. "I don't know," Jack admits. "I know she likes arrows and dogs and boxing, she sometimes trains with Daddy."

"You've gotta ask her, Jackie," Foggy tells him with utmost seriousness. "Because what if Kate doesn't like dinosaurs? How can you spend your life with someone who hates what you do?"

"Then I'll study something else," Jack says, equally serious. "Maybe stars like Miss Jane. Or ratatiation like Mr. Bruce and Greg's dad."

Radiation, Foggy's brain supplements. Foggy shakes his head. "You've really got it bad, don't you, buddy?"

"Kate is the love of my life," Jack informs him with conviction only kids and Matt Murdock were capable of.

"Of course," Foggy agrees, because in the world of Jackie Murdock, age about five, that was most likely true.

Jack turns back to his toys. Two more dinosaurs end up near Foggy; with four of his own he is ready to start building his own dino-zoo. Jack continues dividing the toys between the two of them for a few minutes, every now and again glancing at Foggy's growing pile and plucking a toy from it, taking it back and replacing with a different one. It takes Foggy a moment to notice that all the ones that Jack takes back are small plastic figures in improbable eye-watering colours.

"Where did you get those?"

Jack glances at the blue brontosaurus in his hand. "From the desk in Daddy's office," he explains. "Daddy said I could keep them. Why? Do you like them?" Jack offers him the brontosaurus, despite an unhappy twist of his mouth. These he clearly wants to keep. "Do you want one?"

"No, thank you," Foggy declines. "It's just--I didn't expect to see them again. I bought them, you know? For your dad, right after we finished university."

Jack drops the brontosaurus onto the floor. He stares at Foggy, all interest suddenly transferred from the dinosaur toys to him. "You knew Daddy at school?"

"Yes," Foggy replies. "All through law school."

"Like Miss Jennifer knew Mummy?" Jack keeps up his inquiries. Foggy doesn't know a Miss Jennifer, so he just shrugs. "Do you know any stories about Daddy? Miss Jennifer always tells me funny stories about Mummy, but Daddy doesn't have any friends from school, Aunt Marci wasn't his friend at school. She says she's still not his friend, but Daddy says she's just being silly."

"Oh boy," Foggy tells him as he stands up, it's better to move to the sofa, because this might prove to be a very long conversation. "It's your lucky day, young man, because indeed I know a lot of funny stories about your dad."

Jack beams and scrambles onto his feet, jumps onto the sofa right next to Foggy. After trying out a few positions, he eventually settles comfortably with his head in the crook of Foggy's arm. He looks up at Foggy expectantly.

Foggy clears his throat. "I suppose I could start by telling you how your dad and I met, and that, young Jack, is a really funny story..."

34.

An unmistakable and annoying sensation of being poked in the side is what wakes him. Foggy opens one eye experimentally and is welcomed first by blinding brightness and then by the sight of big hazel eyes peeking at him curiously.

"Aaargh!" he yells, startled. He quickly finds that his neck hurts like a bitch and his legs are tangled in a blanket. He doesn't own any blankets. He sits up, swings his feet off the sofa and puts them firmly on the ground, and — because life hates him — steps right onto a stegosaurus' spine spikes. "Son of a--!"

"It's half past six," Jack informs him cheerfully. "Daddy said to wake you up because breakfast is ready. Do you like waffles?"

"I, uh..." Jack waits. Foggy looks around. This is--this is Matt's living room. Matt's kid in Matt's living room, he's still in Matt's apartment. What the hell. "Yeah, I--I like waffles."

Jack claps his hands happily. "Cool!"

Foggy doesn't need Jack to lead him into the kitchen; the sweet smell of waffles and one of a freshly made coffee would be enough to point him in the right direction. But since Jack seems more than happy to take his hand and drag him through the apartment, Foggy lets him.

"Good morning," Matt greets him with a tight smile. He's standing by one of the counters, cutting what looks like carrots in neat halves and packing them into two boxes, one empty, one already filled with small, crust-free sandwiches. He looks vaguely uncomfortable and his voice betrays that. "Breakfast's on the table, jam's in the fridge, if you want."

"Good morning," Foggy says back, feeling awkward. He rubs his eyes to avoid looking at anything and anyone. "What--what exactly happened?"

"It was almost 2:30 when we came back," Matt explains, voice tight and controlled. He doesn't like this. "You fell asleep on the sofa, Kirsten didn't have the heart to wake you. It'd have been inhumane to kick you out."

"I--Thank you." Matt nods sharply. "2:30, huh? Had fun?"

"Surprisingly enough, yes. The assistant D.A.'s term of office ends in three months, she won't be running for re-election so she's freshly out of damns to give. It was quite entertaining." Matt cocks his head to the side, listening for something. To something? He points somewhere behind his right shoulder. "Coffee machine is next to the microwave."

Foggy grunts his thanks and moves to pour a cup of coffee. Maybe after an espresso his mind will be able to comprehend what's happening.

"Oh, you're awake, that's great," Kirsten greets him as she storms into the kitchen, hair in disarray and with only one shoe on, the other one in her hand. She leans over the counter next to Matt. "On your left," she tells him and Matt stops chopping whatever it is that he's maiming now and raises his left arm to allow Kirsten to dive under it and grab something. "Thanks, baby."

Kirsten turns to Foggy. "I called Stuart," she tells him, and Foggy's mind freezes for a second, because Stuart who?, before connecting 'Stuart' to 'assistant' and 'occasionally of help'. "He'll pick up a new set of clothes for you and bring it to the office."

"Thank you."

"Do you want me to drop you off there? It's on the way to Jack's school."

"I--" Foggy looks first to Jack, sitting by the kitchen table and nodding like crazy, then to Matt, whose mouth forms a thin line now and whose grip on the knife has turned pretty much deadly. Foggy swallows thickly. "No, that's fine, I'll take the subway."

"It's not a problem," Kirsten insists and throws Matt a look that's completely wasted, because Matt cannot see facial expressions. "We owe you one."

Foggy looks back to Jack and smiles fondly. The kid is back at munching his waffles with fruits and is smiling happily. "You don't owe me anything," he says truthfully, "it was an absolute pleasure. He's a great kid."

"Which reminds me," Matt interrupts. "Are you picking up our great kid today?"

"I can't," Kirsten answers, "court. Danny is."

Matt drops the knife. "Danny," he repeats. "Danny? Why can't Luke do it? Danny is--Kirsten, he's borderline irresponsible."

"Luke can't do it, because we're all busy people, Matt." Kirsten throws up her hands, exasperated. "Besides, I thought Danny was your friend."

"Only sort of," Matt counters. "Barely. By proxy."

Kirsten huffs and crosses her hands over her chest. "We don't have the time for this. Danny Rand is picking up your son from pre-school today and then is taking him and Danielle to the zoo. Matt, come on. Danny can handle Jack for three hours."

An unpleasant smile twists Matt's lips. "I have two words for you," he tells Kirsten and slowly extends two fingers, counting out the words, "last. Halloween."

Kirsten makes a face. She pulls her lips and bites the inside of her cheek. A hand travels to her nape and she starts rubbing. "I see your point," she says. "Do we have anyone who could accompany them?"

"Wanda maybe?" Matt suggests.

Kirsten shakes her head. "Peter?" she offers instead. Matt makes an unhappy sound. "You know what, fine, I'll call Wanda."

"Splendid idea," Matt says dryly.

"Miss Wanda loves the zoo!" Jack says. He chooses exactly that moment to chip into the conversation, smart kid. He drops his fork and jumps off his chair. "Done!" he announces and runs to the hall.

"Lunch!" Matt calls after him.

Jack comes back with his shoes on, but not laced, wearing an Iron Man backpack. Foggy wonders if Matt knows and — considering his distinct lack of fondness towards Tony Stark — what he thinks of it if he does. Jack pads towards the counter and grabs the plastic lunchbox that Matt pushes at him. Doesn't quite manage to avoid the kiss that Matt presses into his hair.

"You've got everything? Kirsten asks Jack. The kid nods. "Crayons, glitter, swimming suit? Lunch?"

"Yes, Mummy."

"Okay." She makes a sweeping motion towards the door. "Off with you, mister."

"Bye, Daddy!" Jack says and waves. "Bye, Mr. Franklin."

Foggy waves back.

"Shoelaces!" Matt reminds.

"I'll tie them in the car," Kirsten ensures him with a smile. She grabs a set of keys and throws them into her bag. Walks into the kitchen, takes a bottle of water and a box full of carrots that Matt hands her. "I'll see you at the office."

"I'll pick up our tickets on my way home."

"My hero," Kirsten coos and kisses him. "Love you, baby."

"Mhm, nope." Matt points at himself. "More."

Kirsten laughs and punches him in the shoulder playfully. She throws the water bottle and the box with carrots into her bag as well. "Yeah. You wish."

Matt's smile turns into a full-on grin. "I don't have to."

"I don't believe you, you--you."

Kirsten shakes her head and goes back into the hall and then out of the apartment after Jack, followed out by Matt's warm laugh. Foggy wishes he could turn invisible, feeling out of place and quite frankly intruding upon this lovely scene of everyday family life.

Matt's laugh dies out. He grinds his teeth and tries very hard to look — well, not look exactly, but focus his attention — at anything else but Foggy. And, yeah, Foggy is old enough and mature enough to recognise when his presence slithers into the 'uncomfortable' and 'unwanted' territory and accept it with grace. Which is precisely what he does now.

He gulps down rest of the coffee and puts the mug in the kitchen sink. "Thanks for the coffee," he murmurs, for the lack of anything better to say.

Matt nods. "Thank you for coming," he says quietly, "I know it was sudden and inconvenient. I--I really didn't want to have to call you."

"Yeah," Foggy says. "Yeah, I figured."

***

Next up, the moment you all waited for! The fate of Karen Page explained! And the answer to the question of what happened after Foggy left New York.