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[FILL]: I'll Be By Your Side (1/3)

[(Anonymous)]

All right, so this kinda got away from me a little and I’d really like to do it in three parts, kind of the “evolution of Matt and Foggy sharing a bed” series. It starts with Part 1, which is Matt wanting Foggy to stay in bed with him during their law school days. Part 2 will be Foggy wanting Matt to stay with him during their Landman & Zack days, and finally, Part 3 will be the avocados we know and love needing to spend a night together during the Daredevil days.

Like I said, it got away from me a little haha, so I’m fairly confident when I say that parts 2 and 3 will be up pretty quickly. Enjoy!

---Part 1---

“Sensory overload” (he hated that phrase; it sounded more like something factory workers saw flashing in bright red letters above heavy, overheated machinery than a human condition, even a unique one) hadn’t happened to Matt in a long time. Not since law school.

When he thought back to the days when overloads happened on a semi-regular basis - the days of him falling into a childlike panic as the sounds, smells, tickles, tingles and ticks became too much for him to handle - and compared those days to now, he supposed he had just grown out of it.

But every now and then, only rarely, Matt felt his sensory intake building like a wave on the ocean, growing and growing, surging through his veins and threatening to crash in a rage onto the shore of his conscious self. While he was likely able to suppress it on his own nowadays, there was one thing… one very specific thing he knew for certain would calm him, ground him, and help him win the battle against his rogue senses yet again.

The first time it happened, it was Matt’s first Thanksgiving with the Nelsons.

The afternoon had, of course, started with a persistent litany of “No, no, Foggy, I really can’t impose on them like that” and similar arguments from Matt, to which Foggy only responded with his usual cheeky remarks and also taking it upon himself to excitedly stuff Matt’s duffle full of clothes and other overnight amenities for him. Naturally, Matt eventually caved, being dragged once again by his enthusiastic roommate into a world of adventure and actually-enjoying-life that law-student-Matt so often deprived himself of. When they had arrived at the home of Foggy’s childhood, Matt felt thousands of nerve endings throughout his body light up like tiny stringed bulbs on a Christmas tree.

He picked up 23 new heartbeats (14 adults, three teenagers, four kids, a toddler and an infant) soon to be accompanied by voices, scents, gaits and personal hygienic habits; five new recipes with at least seven spices he had never encountered; odd echoes bouncing off the labyrinthine walls of an unconventionally laid-out apartment; and that’s not to mention all of the fears and reservations and nerves that accompany the everyday young person going to meet his best friend’s extended family on a family-centric holiday.

Matt is still convinced that he was able to sail through the evening actually enjoying himself despite the overwhelming new atmosphere in large part due to his love for Foggy and his deep gratitude for the warm invitation. That, and the Nelsons were truly a lovely family who welcomed Matt into their Thanksgiving traditions with open arms. It had been the first time Matt ever felt he really, really experienced a holiday with family. The first time in his entire life. He cherished every minute of it.

But that’s not to say it hadn’t taken its physical and mental toll. By the end of the night, he was exhausted, and his body was positively aching for release. He unpacked, set his glasses on the bedside table, he showered, tried to let these mundane activities lead him back into a comfortable stasis, but the excitement of the night was still pulsing through him, and the new environment with all its quirks and oddities was biting at his skin like a swarm of insects.

Foggy had been quite a host, though, and Matt didn’t think he had let on to his unavoidable discomfort at all, which was good; that was the last thing he wanted to do. As the two talked casually in low tones in Foggy’s bedroom, brushing their teeth, getting into pajamas, Matt tried hard to relax his body and mind. He was just beginning to dread the very words he knew would eventually come out of Foggy’s mouth at the exact moment that they did:

“Okay bud, bed’s all yours,” Matt heard Foggy pat the mattress three times. “Imma hit up the sofa in the living room. Catchya in the morn-”

“Foggy,” Matt said, almost involuntarily, “you… you don’t have to, you know.”

“Psh,” Foggy smiled (Matt could hear it in his voice), “You’re the celebrity guest star at this Nelson Thanksgiving, you’re takin’ the bed, I’m good on the couch…”

Matt swallowed hard and tried to sound casual. “Fog, really it’s… it’s a big bed.”

“Aaaand how in the world would you know?” Foggy laughed.

Shit. “I… I tested it out. You know… before you came in…” he climbed onto the bed, bounced into the center and spread his arms across the width of the mattress, to simultaneously prove his point, make Foggy laugh, and divert attention away from his abnormally adept “sight” considering… blind and all.

Foggy did laugh, and Matt couldn’t help but smile at the sound.

“You tested it out…” Foggy muttered with another chuckle. “You sure? I don’t want you to think chivalry is dead…”

“You let me hold your arm everywhere we go. I KNOW chivalry isn’t dead.”

This one REALLY made Foggy laugh, and Matt laughed too, scooting over to the left so Foggy could climb in on the right.

“You’re insane, you know that?” Foggy grinned, slipping under the flannel blankets and switching off the light.

“You remind me daily,” Matt laughed quietly, pulling the blankets to his chest and settling into his pillow.

Truthfully, Matt hadn’t asked Foggy to stay because he thought it would physically help. He asked him to stay because talking to Foggy was both a genuinely enjoyable pastime (they had become best friends almost absurdly fast) and a really, really good distraction from the sensory challenges posed by foreign environments such as this one. They had spent many a night in their dorm room, in their separate beds, talking and talking and talking until they drifted off to sleep, and Matt had hoped for something similar tonight.

What he found was something completely different and entirely unexpected.

He found the physical release he didn’t think existed.

The bed was big enough for two, but only allowed for a small space between them. As Matt and Foggy each settled into the bed, gathering up their blankets, falling into their pillows, continuing their conversation in whispers until sleep began to creep upon them, they had, in a way, nestled close together. Foggy had turned on his side to face Matt as they talked, staying that way when his eyes slowly closed and his voice faded off into a soft snore. Curled up on his side, Foggy’s arm pressed against Matt’s own, and involuntarily Matt had leaned into the contact, allowing a mysterious grounding force to pull him close to his friend and finally, finally, relax.

And just before he drifted off to sleep himself, Matt was quietly jostled by a realization: He was no longer fixated on the lingering smells from the kitchen down the hall or the noises from the apartments above and below. His skin no longer felt as though it was being attacked by microscopic insects, even while enveloped in blankets and sheets other than his own. In place of all this was a very palpable, very all-encompassing warmth radiating off the body next to him. Not only could Matt feel it where their arms were touching; he could feel it off the entire right side of the mattress, like a glow, filling him up and soothing him and every part of him, into a rare state of almost total calm.

Suddenly, Matt felt a knot in his chest, a lump in his throat, and tears sting the corners of his eyes when he realized that he had, indeed, felt this kind of warmth before… long before his accident:

In bed, as child of six, seven, eight years old… when his dad would respond to one of Matt’s calls or cries in the middle of the night, quickly waking him from whatever dream had caused him fear or pain, reassuring him, “Hey, hey, hey… I’m right here Matty… I’m right here… atta boy… everything’s fine, dad’s here…” And in response to Matt’s pleading young eyes, Jack would lie down beside his son and wrap an arm around him, protecting him from nightmares and monsters and all the bad in the world, until he fell asleep.

It was that kind of warmth. That same kind of warmth. One that Matthew Murdock hadn’t felt in 13 long, lonely years.

Matt felt tears roll down his cheeks, and he turned on his side to face Foggy, drawing himself closer; their foreheads nearly touching. He sniffled, wiped his eyes, and started just a little when a mostly-asleep Foggy murmured, “You okay… bud…?”

“Yeah…” Matt sniffled, smiling even though Foggy wasn’t nearly awake enough to see. “Yeah, I’m good. I’m good.”

Foggy gave a low, quiet grunt as he shifted again, bringing himself and his warmth closer, his hand finding one of Matt’s and resting atop it. The loving, comforting touch of a real brother, of true family.

Re: [FILL]: I'll Be By Your Side (1/3)

[(Anonymous)]

Awww, sweet! Looking forward to more.