Foggy said to Matt, you’re going to get yourself killed. And he knew it to be true on some level. Mostly, though, it was a precision strike to get Matt to hurt the way Foggy was hurting. And it worked.
But he didn’t realize it would be like this. He couldn’t have imagined it if he tried.
*
They run, the three girls following behind them.
“In there,” Matt barks, gesturing toward a dismal warehouse that looks long abandoned. The door is swinging open already, the wood around the lock splintered. Once they’re inside, Foggy and the girls sit on the floor in one corner while Matt prowls around the room, listening or maybe just pacing.
“What’s he gonna do?” whispers one of the girls, the oldest, Foggy thinks. He’s pretty sure they’re sisters.
“We’ll be fine,” Foggy says, adopting the comforting tone he uses on his younger cousins when they’ve had a bad dream. “M – Daredevil there protects people. He won’t let anything happen to you.”
“Okay,” she says, very quietly, and stares at the floor.
“Hey,” Foggy says, concerned. “It really is gonna be okay. I know sometimes people just say that just because they don’t know what to say. But I know Daredevil, and he’s never let me down. He’ll get you guys out of here.”
The girl nods, and Foggy notices that she’s reached out both her hands so that her sisters can hold onto one each. He swallows. “I’m gonna go talk to him, okay? I’m gonna find out what’s going on. Is that alright, if I go over there for a minute?”
“Yeah,” says another sister, the middle one. “It’s fine. “ She gives him a small, fierce smile, and he smiles back.
“I’ll be right back,” he says, and walks over to where Matt is pacing.
“Are they okay?” Matt asks before Foggy has a chance to say anything.
Foggy shrugs. “They’re scared. But they’re okay for now. Matt, what’s going on?”
Matt sighs, humorously exasperated. “You know, it sort of defeats the purpose of wearing a mask if you say my name, Fog.”
Foggy rolls his eyes. “I just rolled my eyes at you, Matt. Tell me what’s going on.”
“It’s not good,” Matt says, and his voice is abruptly exhausted, all the joking gone. He pushes the mask up so that it sits on his forehead, above his eyes.
“When is it ever,” Foggy mutters.
Matt ignores that. “There’s cops out there, dirty cops. They got a tip that I’m here and they want to take the opportunity. Take me out.”
“Shit,” Foggy says. “You’d think they’d have had enough of that by now.”
“There’s too many of them,” Matt says, “I can’t – “
“You don’t have to fight them off, let’s just get out of here, man,” Foggy says.
“I can’t,” Matt says, frustrated. “There’s ten of them at least. Fighting on my own, maybe I take them all out. But there’s those three, and you –“
“So give us a head start, we’ll get the hell out.”
Matt shakes his head. “You don’t understand – the stakes are going up these days. They can’t risk anyone seeing them and knowing they’re dirty. If they even know there’s anyone but me here, they’ll find out who and they’ll eliminate the risk.” He pauses. “Eliminate you. And them.” He points at the three girls. "That's why we had to bring them with us. Those guys don't care who gets in their way."
"You don't know that," Foggy says. "These are little kids - those guys may be on a payroll, but they're not monsters."
"I can hear them, remember," Matt says. "Trust me when I say they're not gonna care who they have to mow down to get to me."
Foggy says nothing, then, "What're we gonna do?"
“I have a couple ideas,” Matt says, and then cocks his head a little, eyes drifting. "Hold on a second."
“Matt,” Foggy whispers after a couple of minutes of silence, trying to rein in the panic he can feel swelling up. “Matt!”
“Hold on a second,” Matt says, low. “I’m trying – “ He breaks off at some sound unheard to Foggy, draws a sharp breath in.
“Matt, please.” Foggy knows he’s not helping, but he needs something, some small form of reassurance, or maybe he just needs to hear Matt’s voice. “Matt.”
“Foggy,” Matt says, pleading and a little sharp, and Foggy gives in and goes to sit down on some ancient chair in the corner of the warehouse. He can feel dust and cobwebs in the air, brushing his face. He can’t find it in him to care.
He slouches forward, elbows on his knees. After a moment he rests his head in his hands. He can hear his own heart beating in his ears.
It feels like he sits there for an age, and then Matt is in front of him, pulling him to his feet. He looks –
Foggy wants to say his name again, beg for comfort, but – no. They’ve got bigger things to worry about than Foggy having a freakout. “What’s going on?” he asks, and thinks he sounds fairly level.
“I’m, Foggy,” Matt sighs, and it sounds shaky. “There’s more of them out there, but I have a plan. Foggy, I’m sorry – “
“Is now really the time,” Foggy says, “apologies later, for right now let’s skedaddle.”
“We can’t.”
“As homey as it is here, I’d really like to go somewhere else, man. Maybe somewhere less super gross.”
“Foggy, we – I – “ Matt takes a breath and seems to collect himself, draw himself back from the brink of something. Foggy doesn’t know what.
“You’re gonna go out that door, lead them with you. Take them somewhere safe. The police station would be best, probably.”
“And you’ll be right behind me,” Foggy says. “Right? Matt – “
“They’re waiting out there,” Matt says, sounding low and hard. A memory stirs: We don’t live in a world that’s fair. “They will kill those kids so they can get me without any witnesses. You get that, right? They’ll kill the kids, and they’ll kill you.”
“No,” Foggy says. “No, you can’t, you can’t – those guys have guns! There’s god knows how many of them and one of you. You’ll never make it!”
The words fall heavy between them.
“…I know,” Matt says, and the words are barely a whisper. He’s dropped his head now so Foggy can’t see his face.
“Matt,” Foggy says, raw, at a loss for words.
Matt looks up and Foggy can see that his eyes are very bright.
Insanely, he smiles, a weak flash of teeth. “What did I tell you about saying my name, c’mon, Foggy.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Foggy says, and he can feel his own breath hitching now. “You pick now to be a smartass? Jesus fuck.”
“I wish – “ Matt says, and then stops, which is. Good. For certain values of good. Because Foggy thinks that if he has to think more about what is happening in this moment, what is about to happen, that he’ll actually lose his mind. After a moment, Matt shakes his head and steps very close to Foggy. He brings a hand up, glove lost at some point earlier, and runs a thumb over Foggy’s mouth. Foggy makes a tiny squeak of a sob and Matt kisses him, the hand sliding around to press into the back of Foggy’s head with strong fingers. It’s slow, and good, and unbearably tender, and Foggy has his arms around Matt now, is holding him as close as he physically can.
Gently, so gently, Matt pushes Foggy away. He pulls the mask down over his face, and he says, “You need to go now. I – I’ll buy you the time.” His voice is like gravel.
Foggy doesn’t say a single word. He turns away and he walks over to the girls.
“We need to go now,” he tells them, and doesn’t bother to wipe the tears off his face. He herds them out the door. He can’t help looking back, but Matt is already gone.
The three girls hold hands, and the oldest puts her hand in Foggy’s after a block or so.
Down the street, around the corner, Matt is fighting for his life. Matt is going to lose, because losing will give them time to get away.
“Are you friends with Daredevil?” asks the youngest girl after a few minutes of silence. They’re only half a block away from the station now.
Foggy nods. Then, because she seems to want an answer and she’s a scared little girl, he makes himself say, “Best friends.”
The middle girl says, dismissive, “No you’re not. You don’t kiss your best friend.” The other two giggle at the word kiss. She turns to him as they slow to a stop in front of the station, scowling, and says, “You’re only supposed to kiss someone if you love them.”
Foggy doesn’t say anything, because he hears it: a gunshot in the distance.
i'm so sorry there will be good things in the next part i promise
Re: Matt/Foggy, Last Chance Kiss - FILL, 1/2
But he didn’t realize it would be like this. He couldn’t have imagined it if he tried.
*
They run, the three girls following behind them.
“In there,” Matt barks, gesturing toward a dismal warehouse that looks long abandoned. The door is swinging open already, the wood around the lock splintered. Once they’re inside, Foggy and the girls sit on the floor in one corner while Matt prowls around the room, listening or maybe just pacing.
“What’s he gonna do?” whispers one of the girls, the oldest, Foggy thinks. He’s pretty sure they’re sisters.
“We’ll be fine,” Foggy says, adopting the comforting tone he uses on his younger cousins when they’ve had a bad dream. “M – Daredevil there protects people. He won’t let anything happen to you.”
“Okay,” she says, very quietly, and stares at the floor.
“Hey,” Foggy says, concerned. “It really is gonna be okay. I know sometimes people just say that just because they don’t know what to say. But I know Daredevil, and he’s never let me down. He’ll get you guys out of here.”
The girl nods, and Foggy notices that she’s reached out both her hands so that her sisters can hold onto one each. He swallows. “I’m gonna go talk to him, okay? I’m gonna find out what’s going on. Is that alright, if I go over there for a minute?”
“Yeah,” says another sister, the middle one. “It’s fine. “ She gives him a small, fierce smile, and he smiles back.
“I’ll be right back,” he says, and walks over to where Matt is pacing.
“Are they okay?” Matt asks before Foggy has a chance to say anything.
Foggy shrugs. “They’re scared. But they’re okay for now. Matt, what’s going on?”
Matt sighs, humorously exasperated. “You know, it sort of defeats the purpose of wearing a mask if you say my name, Fog.”
Foggy rolls his eyes. “I just rolled my eyes at you, Matt. Tell me what’s going on.”
“It’s not good,” Matt says, and his voice is abruptly exhausted, all the joking gone. He pushes the mask up so that it sits on his forehead, above his eyes.
“When is it ever,” Foggy mutters.
Matt ignores that. “There’s cops out there, dirty cops. They got a tip that I’m here and they want to take the opportunity. Take me out.”
“Shit,” Foggy says. “You’d think they’d have had enough of that by now.”
“There’s too many of them,” Matt says, “I can’t – “
“You don’t have to fight them off, let’s just get out of here, man,” Foggy says.
“I can’t,” Matt says, frustrated. “There’s ten of them at least. Fighting on my own, maybe I take them all out. But there’s those three, and you –“
“So give us a head start, we’ll get the hell out.”
Matt shakes his head. “You don’t understand – the stakes are going up these days. They can’t risk anyone seeing them and knowing they’re dirty. If they even know there’s anyone but me here, they’ll find out who and they’ll eliminate the risk.” He pauses. “Eliminate you. And them.” He points at the three girls. "That's why we had to bring them with us. Those guys don't care who gets in their way."
"You don't know that," Foggy says. "These are little kids - those guys may be on a payroll, but they're not monsters."
"I can hear them, remember," Matt says. "Trust me when I say they're not gonna care who they have to mow down to get to me."
Foggy says nothing, then, "What're we gonna do?"
“I have a couple ideas,” Matt says, and then cocks his head a little, eyes drifting. "Hold on a second."
“Matt,” Foggy whispers after a couple of minutes of silence, trying to rein in the panic he can feel swelling up. “Matt!”
“Hold on a second,” Matt says, low. “I’m trying – “ He breaks off at some sound unheard to Foggy, draws a sharp breath in.
“Matt, please.” Foggy knows he’s not helping, but he needs something, some small form of reassurance, or maybe he just needs to hear Matt’s voice. “Matt.”
“Foggy,” Matt says, pleading and a little sharp, and Foggy gives in and goes to sit down on some ancient chair in the corner of the warehouse. He can feel dust and cobwebs in the air, brushing his face. He can’t find it in him to care.
He slouches forward, elbows on his knees. After a moment he rests his head in his hands. He can hear his own heart beating in his ears.
It feels like he sits there for an age, and then Matt is in front of him, pulling him to his feet. He looks –
Foggy wants to say his name again, beg for comfort, but – no. They’ve got bigger things to worry about than Foggy having a freakout. “What’s going on?” he asks, and thinks he sounds fairly level.
“I’m, Foggy,” Matt sighs, and it sounds shaky. “There’s more of them out there, but I have a plan. Foggy, I’m sorry – “
“Is now really the time,” Foggy says, “apologies later, for right now let’s skedaddle.”
“We can’t.”
“As homey as it is here, I’d really like to go somewhere else, man. Maybe somewhere less super gross.”
“Foggy, we – I – “ Matt takes a breath and seems to collect himself, draw himself back from the brink of something. Foggy doesn’t know what.
“You’re gonna go out that door, lead them with you. Take them somewhere safe. The police station would be best, probably.”
“And you’ll be right behind me,” Foggy says. “Right? Matt – “
“They’re waiting out there,” Matt says, sounding low and hard. A memory stirs: We don’t live in a world that’s fair. “They will kill those kids so they can get me without any witnesses. You get that, right? They’ll kill the kids, and they’ll kill you.”
“No,” Foggy says. “No, you can’t, you can’t – those guys have guns! There’s god knows how many of them and one of you. You’ll never make it!”
The words fall heavy between them.
“…I know,” Matt says, and the words are barely a whisper. He’s dropped his head now so Foggy can’t see his face.
“Matt,” Foggy says, raw, at a loss for words.
Matt looks up and Foggy can see that his eyes are very bright.
Insanely, he smiles, a weak flash of teeth. “What did I tell you about saying my name, c’mon, Foggy.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Foggy says, and he can feel his own breath hitching now. “You pick now to be a smartass? Jesus fuck.”
“I wish – “ Matt says, and then stops, which is. Good. For certain values of good. Because Foggy thinks that if he has to think more about what is happening in this moment, what is about to happen, that he’ll actually lose his mind. After a moment, Matt shakes his head and steps very close to Foggy. He brings a hand up, glove lost at some point earlier, and runs a thumb over Foggy’s mouth. Foggy makes a tiny squeak of a sob and Matt kisses him, the hand sliding around to press into the back of Foggy’s head with strong fingers. It’s slow, and good, and unbearably tender, and Foggy has his arms around Matt now, is holding him as close as he physically can.
Gently, so gently, Matt pushes Foggy away. He pulls the mask down over his face, and he says, “You need to go now. I – I’ll buy you the time.” His voice is like gravel.
Foggy doesn’t say a single word. He turns away and he walks over to the girls.
“We need to go now,” he tells them, and doesn’t bother to wipe the tears off his face. He herds them out the door. He can’t help looking back, but Matt is already gone.
The three girls hold hands, and the oldest puts her hand in Foggy’s after a block or so.
Down the street, around the corner, Matt is fighting for his life. Matt is going to lose, because losing will give them time to get away.
“Are you friends with Daredevil?” asks the youngest girl after a few minutes of silence. They’re only half a block away from the station now.
Foggy nods. Then, because she seems to want an answer and she’s a scared little girl, he makes himself say, “Best friends.”
The middle girl says, dismissive, “No you’re not. You don’t kiss your best friend.” The other two giggle at the word kiss. She turns to him as they slow to a stop in front of the station, scowling, and says, “You’re only supposed to kiss someone if you love them.”
Foggy doesn’t say anything, because he hears it: a gunshot in the distance.
i'm so sorry there will be good things in the next part i promise