"It's fine. Matt. It's fine." He walked up to her on stiff legs. Nothing was fine, this wasn't fine, but he touched her anyway--

A scream woke him up.

He looked frantically around, as if that did something. He could still hear her cry, he could feel her cry--- oh. It was him. He was the one crying.

Oh well. Stick sneered at him from the back of his mind, but Matt ignored him. He stood up, no point loitering in bed when he was already awake - Stick agreed - and went to wash up.

He spent a lot of time washing up.

By the time he went out of the bathroom it was still early, but the sun was up, so he dressed himself immaculately and went on a long walk. It was... pleasant. Maybe too pleasant for him. Listening to Hell's Kitchen wake up made him feel grounded, and that... he didn't deseve that.

But he needed it. He needed it to not be dangerous, at the very least. To others. Himself, well...

He didn't need to think about that.

It takes Foggy about half a workday before he slams the file he's holding as loudly as he can.

Matt jumps. Well, good. Finally.

"Okay, can someone tell me what is going on?"

Silence. Karen takes a shuddering breath, and then there is just more silence.

"I thought we agreed no more secrets. Did you two have a bad date? Did someone overshare their fantasies? Did you get drunk together and had sex, and now don't want to talk about it---"

Matt rises rapidly. "I should go---"

"Sit your ass back down, Murdock!" Matt sits like he was punched down.

"We aren't dating, Foggy," Karen told him dully. Staring at the table before her. It's terrifying to see her like this, almost without life.

"That's why I asked if you had sex---"

And Matt said, "Yes."

Karen raised her eyes.

Matt braced himself.

Foggy took a breath.

Matt watched that yes land between them like a confessed sin. Or a bomb.

Karen watched that yes land between them like an unwanted guest.

Foggy watched that yes land between his friends, without him.

Foggy breathed in and out. Well, fuck it. It was bound to happen. He knew, he just wasn't quite ready. Tough shit, Nelson. Take care of your friends. "Well, that's not the end of the world, is it?" he says, all false cheer. "You've dated before---"

Matt cut him off immediately. "We aren't dating, Foggy." Angry. Sharp.

The athmosphere shifted. It was now decidedly unpleasant, and Foggy liked none of it.

"It wasn't your fault---" Karen started.

"Yes, it was."

Karen took a breath. Matt went rigid. Things were going between them, without Foggy, but none of it was good.

Karen. Timid. Without life.

Matt. Sharp. Angry.

Karen. Stiff. Angry. Insistent.

Matt. Unhappy. Bitter. Angry.

It was like watching telepathy. Foggy would have been fascinated, if he wasn't so concerned. "Okay, can someone clue me in? I don't have superpowers."

"I hurt Karen."

"No, you didn't. We hurt each other."

Well then. Not exactly the best outcome, but better than many others. For a moment there, Foggy thought they were getting somewhere.

Then he lost control over the room completely. Matt slammed the table. Karen shot out of her chair. They were shouting over each other, with phrases like 'It wasn't your fault!' and 'Of course I had a choice!'

'I was there too, remember?!'

'I remember very well, I will remember for the rest of my life--'

And,

'Fuck you and your sanctimonous asshole!'

'Let's not go there, shall we?!'

And,

'You Catholic guilt inebirated fuck--'

Foggy pressed on his nose. This is why you don't become a divorce lawyer. "How about we calm the fuck down, before Jesus calls in a noise complaint--"

"I RAPED YOU!"

With that, Matt was out.