daredevilkink | Prompt Post #1

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Ah," Matt's not sure earplugs are the best solution -- while he wouldn't be effectively blind with his hearing dampened, it's still not generally an idea he's comfortable with. "According to one web forum, some people can nap during these things."

"Those people are inhuman," Foggy insists.

"Well, at least I have you here to reassure me that the whole procedure will be fairly uneventful and painless," Matt knows he sounds sarcastic, and yeah, he is being sarcastic, but he's also really happy Foggy agreed to come with him. Foggy punches Matt in the arm, not as lightly as Matt would've expected. "That almost hurt, ow -- OK, OK, Foggy, OK."

Karen had wanted to as well, but Marci had somehow roped her into dog-sitting while she was visiting family in California. After the FBI investigation, Marci had decided to take a few months off. Landman and Zach were "restructuring," which was a nice way of codifying mass-layoffs due to financial instability. Marci had been on the chop list, as had anyone else with access to the materials that had exposed their involvement with Fisk's illegal activities. She'd been angry enough to have Foggy and Matt look into whatever case she might have for retaliation, but all said and done -- Landman and Zach had done an excellent job of covering their tracks. There'd been commiseration, a lot of Nelson-Lead group therapy which mostly took place at Josie's with a running tab. Karen and Marci had initially been a little rough with each other, but actually gotten on quite well together. Matt was less surprised than Foggy had been; they both had a talent for trouble that they'd been able to bond over. Marci hadn't asked for a job, Matt hadn't offered -- Marci was too big a fan of gainful employment, something Matt really couldn't fault her for.

Matt's attention refocuses on the situation at hand when he hears the shuffle of feet along the carpet pile just on the other side of the door leading into the imaging suite. It's no surprise when the door clicks and then glides open, followed by a curt:

"Murdock, Matthew?" Short, stocky, chemical perm that's fresh enough for Matt to still be able to smell, and an accent that would make her Uzbek or Russian, with his money on Russian. She smokes Newport menthols, and it makes his nose itch.

"That'd be me," Matt says, raising his hand.

"Come," is all she says in return, and Matt stands.

Foggy latches onto his elbow again, and he can hear the pause in the woman's breath, the shift of fabric and skin that speak her annoyance and closed-off body language as she crosses her arms in disapproval. Matt thinks she's going to tell Foggy off for following him into the suite, but she stops just shy of it, moving out of the way for them both. Matt doesn't have his stick with him, but he's letting his eyes track the subtleties of the noses around him which must look alien enough to her for her to realize he's -- mostly -- blind.

He can tell when they're in the room proper because it stinks like bleach and sweat, the oddly damp and milky earthen taste of the mercury vapor in the overhead lights sitting stale in the air. The power in the room is already overwhelming -- and Matt understands how MRI machines work, he knows that the coils aren't even being modulated yet, this is all just latent electricity necessary to keep the magnet functioning. He can feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up, wonders how much of it is psychogenic or if his body is really just that sensitive.

"Do you have any metal on your body still?" the woman asks.

"Ah, no," Matt responds, feeling briefly to make sure he took his watch off.

"No implants, rods, plates, no pacemaker, no tattoos?"

"I have fillings in my teeth, is that --"

"No, no, fillings are no problem, lie down on the bench," and Foggy obediently leads Matt over by the elbow.

Matt sits, and the crinkle of paper is unexpected. He didn't hear her cover the bed while they were waiting. It's a little waxy to the touch, like exam table paper at the doctor's, and it's the most impersonal thing he's touched since coming here. He swallows, squeezing Foggy's hand lightly.

"Can my friend stay?" Matt finds himself asking. "In the room, I mean. In here."

That gets an irritated sigh out of the tech.

"If you absolutely need him to, OK, but he needs to go outside and change into gown like you, and take off all metal, all cellphone, everything, or else MR won't sync properly, and picture is no good."

"Are you OK with that Foggy?"

"I, yeah, of course, I'll be back in a minute, buddy," and Matt feels Foggy squeeze his shoulder.

He listens to the shuffle tap of Foggy's loafers on the linoleum, the slight squeak of the heels. Matt has managed to stay out of hospitals and medical facilities for the last ten years fairly successfully, and every little sound and smell is just another reminder that while his resolve, Daredevil's resolve, might be infallible, his body really isn't. Matt sighs, slow, through his nose.

"Put your legs up on bench, I need to set you up. We're doing your neck and chest, yes?"

Matt curls his hands around the edge of the bench, focuses on the low hum running through the plastic cushioning, and then swings his legs up, shuffles a little to lay flat. "Yeah."

"Here, lift your head," and the smell of tobacco oil, formaldehyde, smoke intensifies as he feels the warmth of the woman's fingers along his neck. She fiddles with a foam neck support for a minute before sliding it properly into place.

"I have to also put on head stabilizer for best neck pictures, and pad under your arms. You have MRI before?"

"Ah, no, this is my first time, actually," and Matt feels himself smile congenially before he can stop himself. Work habits die hard.

"I hope you're not claustrophobic."

And it's definitely not a question. Matt's smile twists wryly. "Me too."

The tech snorts out something like a laugh at that, as she bunches up towels, wedging them in what feels like every available crevice between his hips and his head. It makes him think of action figues in their foam packages, every hole exactly limb-shaped.

"So you may know already, but MRI should not hurt. Sometimes, areas can get a little hot, but not so bad it burns you. MRI is also loud, like banging or knocking, sometimes buzzing like propeller plane engines. This stick button I am pushing into your hand, that button is panic button. If something wrong -- if you burning, or you feel dizzy, you push the button, OK?"

----

ugh, work calls. Will cont. I promise.

OP again - loving part 2 just as much. Just what I wanted. Love the details.

Loving it!

This is really good. Also I love fics that deal with the issues that Matt's senses cause him because I have sensory processing issues and it's *not fun*. Also, you did a really good job of writing an accent with the tech.

Ooh, promising start, nonny. I'm looking forward to the next part(s) with Matt whumpage. *__*

I want to go to this magic imaging place that doesn't both (a) require me to get over to the east side and (b) takes me on time.

Looking good! Can't wait to see the next part. :D

This is great!

Ahhh so good. :D

More please? Your writing is so good!

Yes! PLEASE!

I'm loving this so so much <333 *cheers you on*

Ah, I wish this would continue!! <3

Prompt Post #1

Re: Matt does an MRI -- FILL pt 2

Re: Matt does an MRI -- FILL pt 2

Re: Matt does an MRI -- FILL pt 2

Re: Matt does an MRI -- FILL pt 2

Re: Matt does an MRI -- FILL pt 2

Re: Matt does an MRI -- FILL pt 2

Re: Matt does an MRI -- FILL pt 2

Re: Matt does an MRI -- FILL pt 2

Re: Matt does an MRI -- FILL pt 2

Re: Matt does an MRI -- FILL pt 2

Re: Matt does an MRI -- FILL pt 2

Re: Matt does an MRI -- FILL pt 2

Re: Matt does an MRI -- FILL pt 2