daredevilkink | Daredevil Prompt Post #11

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Karen is a little surprised that Foggy is calling her on Sunday morning. It wasn’t that she and Foggy don’t talk or grab drinks (anywhere but Josie’s, where Matt’s shadow lurked), but they usually texted. And they had just decided yesterday to do drinks (“get plastered,” according to Foggy) at this new bar near HCB. And what was Foggy doing up already? Maybe it was butt dial? Best to pick up in case he was actually trying to get ahold of her.

“Hey Foggy, what’s up?” Karen chirped. At the sound of Foggy’s uneven breathing and the ubiquitous sound of “hospital,” Karen felt her heart speed up. “Foggy? Foggy, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong? What happened to you?”

There’s still no response, but Karen hears Foggy take a deep breath.

“ ‘s not me, Karen, ‘s Matt,” Foggy manages to get out with shaky breaths.

“Holy fuck, he’s dead?” Karen’s never really had a good filter, but what else would Matt be in the hospital for? From what she can tell he’s had some pretty serious injuries (like the “car accident”) and never been to the hospital. Why else would Foggy be there or calling her or so upset.

“No, no. He’s not dead, but he tried…” Foggy trails off and Karen can’t finish the sentence. Tried what? Tried to refuse to go to the hospital? Tried to do something idiotic as Daredevil? Tried to... oh God. No. Matt wouldn’t.

“He tried what Foggy?” Karen hears how shrill her voice is. She doesn’t mean to freak out on Foggy, but this cannot be happening. There’s no way he tried… that.

Foggy’s voice hitches and then, through soft sobs, “He tried to kill himself, Karen.”

Karen’s phone hit’s the floor just before she does. She can hear Foggy calling out, asking if she’s okay, but of course she isn’t okay, neither is he. Matt might have lied and pushed them away and dropped off the grid, but this?

The whiskey is burning her throat before she fully processes that she’s grabbed the bottle. The sting of the alcohol brings her back to awareness; she grabs her phone and apologizes to Foggy.

“What, um, what hospital are you at? Is there anything you need?” What a stupid question. There’s any number of things they both need and it’s not something she can pick up on her way to the hospital. To visit their friend. Who tried to commit suicide.

“Metro-general. ER waiting room. Not really anything you can bring, but if you could come that would really help me and I think, um, I think Matt will appreciate it if – when he wakes up.”

Karen assures Foggy she’ll be there as soon as possible. She grabs her purse, tossing her phone in, grabs her keys, and leaves her apartment in the sweats and t-shirt she had been lounging around in. On the cab ride to the hospital all she can think is “how did this happen?”

Before the cab has even come to a full stop, Karen throws open her door, tosses cash up to the cabbie and sprints up to the door searching for signs directing her to the ER waiting room. She’s trying to move as quickly as she can but it feels like she’s fighting through molasses. No matter how quickly she gets there it won’t be fast enough and yet, she doesn’t want to get there, doesn’t know if she can handle this.

“Karen!” Foggy’s shout tells her that she’s made it. Her stomach feels full of lead.

“Oh my God, Foggy!” Karen throws herself into his arms, sobs wracking her body. They hold each other for a few moments and just cry. A kindly older nurse brings them a pack of tissues and presses them into Karen’s hand with a sad smile.

Once they're both a bit calmer Karen knows she needs to find out more, but she simultaneously knows that finding out more is going to hurt like hell and, sometimes, as the old adage goes, ignorance is bliss.

“So, um, what happened?”

Foggy draws a deep breath and prepares to tell this story for the fourth time in the past hour.

“Apparently Matty’s been going to Mass religiously,” they both gave a watery chuckle at the bad pun, “he’s been going regularly since, you know, everything happened.” Karen nods, it makes sense that Matt would rely more heavily on the church during a difficult time. “He didn’t show up today. His priest called me because he knew that things were bad. He knew Matt was alone, had hoped we’d made up, but also worried that Matt had done something stupid. He was right.”

Foggy takes a beat to sip water, blow his nose, and try to wipe away the stream of tears that seem to have been steadily falling since finding Matt.

“When I got to Matt’s apartment, I knew. I just knew. I could, you know, smell the blood the minute I opened the door. And I found him on his bed. He had… he had slit his wrists.”

Foggy’s breath had hitched and Karen rubs his back and starts to take exaggerated breaths, hoping he would match her; hopes she can at least help him a little. She knows that no matter how hard this was for her it had to be a thousand times worse for Foggy. He had known Matt for so long. They were practically brothers.

“He had slit his wrists and there were cuts everywhere, Karen, he’s been hurting himself for months. Probably since…”

They’re both holding each other and sobbing again, an uncontrolled, ugly sound.

“There was so much blood, it was everywhere and… he left this.”

Foggy produces the note from his pocket. He doesn’t know what possessed him to grab it as the paramedics were rolling Matt out, but he needed it. He needed this thing that Matt had left for him. Somewhere in his mind he felt that if he just kept this part of Matt with him then Matt couldn’t leave him. So he had clutched the blood-soaked note through the whole ambulance ride while beseeching Matt’s God not to let him die, please God, you can’t take him away from me.

“Foggy, he, he can’t have thought this,” Karen stutters out, turning the note over and over in her hand. “He can’t have thought we would be,” she chokes on the word, “without him. He has to know that we loved him, no matter how angry we were.”

“He probably really did believe we'd be better off without him. He was sick Karen, but he hadn’t had an issue with his depression since school. It had been years. I never imagined… I never thought that it could, that this could happen. I failed him. Karen, this is my fault. I should have checked in on him. I shouldn’t have cut him out so completely. Everyone always leaves him Karen. I should have known. I should have known… I should have…” Foggy's voice trails off, as if he has no more energy to even speak.

Dropping his head into his hands, Foggy’s whole body shakes with his grief. Karen tries to assure him it’s not his fault, because of course it isn’t, but it doesn’t help. It only seems to agitate Foggy, so she stops talking, just pulls Foggy close to her and rest her head on his shoulder.

Matt could be dying or dead right now. It’s all Karen can think and she imagines the same thought has been plaguing Foggy since they took Matt away from him.

And they wait.

This is really beautiful. You get perfectly into the head of people dealing with a loved one's suicide attempt.

Author!Anon - thanks! I'm afraid I've had more experience with this than I'd like to admit (mostly from the other side), but I'm glad this reads like I hoped it would!

Daredevil Prompt Post #11

Fill: leave me out with the waste (this is not what I do) 4/?

Re: Fill: leave me out with the waste (this is not what I do) 4/?

Re: Fill: leave me out with the waste (this is not what I do) 4/?