thoughtbubble | S3 alternative for clouded

There is one thing Matt will almost certainly hear, because of all the things Franklin Nelson has been described as, quiet has never been one of them. He enters the orphanage quietly enough but it's the weekend and the kids are loose and the cries of "Mr Nelson!" are clear but the response of "Down, monkeys! I can't hand out cookies when I'm fighting for my life!" is equally clear.

Children withdraw and are suitably rewarded with a box of cookies to be shared among them fairly and they charge off, leaving Franklin standing with Sister Thomas.

"You look tired, Franklin. Are you still not sleeping well?"

"I don't think I've managed a full night's sleep since that night. The doctor gave me some tablets, but I don't like them. They don't stop the nightmares, just mean I can't wake up from them." His shrug is audible in his tone. "It'll pass. Eventually. Or so she says."

Matt hears the stampede of footsteps running toward the front door, a sound he grew up hearing daily. However, the excited cheer for "Mr. Nelson" makes Matt stop in his tracks, clutching at his chest as he leans on his cane like someone had knocked the wind out of him. "Mr. Nelson?" He hears laughter mixed in with the children's and tries to make out the man's voice beyond all the "thank you's" that shortly follow from the kids.

Matt limps closer to the doorway to the front room. Thankfully, the children disperse, making it easier to hear the voices.

Foggy. It's unmistakably Foggy. Matt clings for a second to the doorway as his head spins with mixed emotions and confusion. What is Foggy doing at the orphanage? Does he know, did someone tell him? Matt had insisted his survival stay secret. When he first woke up his plans were as he had decided that fateful night. He had no plans to return to his life as Matt Murdock. He would never be the Matt that Foggy or Karen hoped he would. Stick had been right about one thing- he needed to let his friends go. They wouldn't have to hide in a police precinct ever again.

He made that decision, but it's impossible to ignore the conversation in the other room. Foggy was having nightmares? Matt feels a pang of guilt but it's just as Foggy says, it should pass. Matt wasn't foolish enough to think Foggy and Karen wouldn't hurt for a time.

"But otherwise?"

"Otherwise, I have a cheque from the collection drive I ran at the office. I've encouraged people to go through their wardrobes and consider donating anything they don't want anymore, even if it's not suitable for the kids, you might be able to sell it for funds."

"That's not what I meant, Franklin."

"Yeah, I know. But I'm a lawyer, obfuscating is part of my livelihood. I can't stay long, I'm heading back to the office after this."

"Work will not help your grief, whereas solace may be found-"

"No offence, Sister Thomas, but you're not a therapist and your God doesn't bring me comfort, so no, I won't be coming to a Mass either. Matty prayed to the same God and I don't know if him- if what happened was a refusal of his prayers, or the fulfillment." There's a pause. "I'll try and come by on the weekend with Brett. Goodbye, Sister."

"Goodbye, Franklin. God bless."

What is he thinking? Of course Foggy doesn't know- the nuns wouldn't tell, they'll judge plenty but they're tight lipped. This is a coincidence, this is Foggy being generous to the neighborhood orphanage.

-Which is why it's jarring to hear him interrupt Sister Thomas when she's trying to comfort him. Matt has been angry with God himself, still he didn't imagine Foggy would end up with these kind of feelings. Or-

They've been talking about you. Matt realizes. Foggy called him "Matty" the way he called him affectionately, knowing Sister Thomas would understand. If Foggy was upset with God was he visiting the orphanage because Matt had lived there? No that's-

Foggy is saying goodbye and Matt's mind races. One of the kids passes through the doorway Matt is listening from and he hurries to catch their attention.

"Has that man been here before? You know his name."

"Yeah. He brings us cookies every time. Why?"

"Nothing, he just... I hope he's okay." How much is Foggy hurting under that calm exterior? If he revealed himself he'd be entering that life he promised he wouldn't screw up any more. Is there any way he can help him from afar?

Matt turns and leans his back against the wall, body starting to feel too heavy to be up and walking suddenly.

Out in the front room the same kid runs over to Mr. Nelson. "Um, thanks for the cookie. The sad man in the back room is worried about you."

Foggy isn't angry with God. Foggy isn't sure he believes in God. Foggy's... just grieving. Angry. Hurt. Missing part of himself that is gone for good, not just gone and down the block and haunting the streets. Foggy can't sleep and drinks too much and works too hard and knows he's lucky that Marci has been willing to be his soft-ish place to land.

He reaches out as the boy skids up next to him, hand cupping the back of his head the way he would his nieces or nephews. "Hey? What sad man, kiddo?" He looks up instinctive, checking the backroom door and then out towards the church, where he can see Father Lantom, proving that it isn't him. "You got one of the older boys staying here?"

Matt almost misses what's happening out in the other room, distracted by the pain stirring up from the stubborn wound in his side and the way his legs tremble when he tries to straighten up. But he hears Foggy calling after the boy, who runs with loud footsteps after other kids, and Sister Thomas calling after them, the creak of the door and the thump of it closing again, muffling the voices of the children and the nun.

If he's going to reveal himself, now is as good a time as ever. The momentary silence and privacy won't last forever, and Foggy was just about to walk out the door a minute ago.

Selfish. He should go lie down again. He's not sure he can actually walk over to Foggy like this. He's better off without you. He hates how true it is and the sting that crushes his throat. He definitely won't be able to stand if he gets worked up. Deep breath. Matt forces the air into his lungs and just like that tears sting his eyes.

Holding them back, he tries to hold his breath but it only aggravates his physical pain. He misjudges where the edge of the doorway is, hoping to get a grip on it to stay upright, and his elbow collides with the wall with a bang that seems deafening in the quiet.

God, he's weak. He's so weak. "Fo-Foggy," his voice seems to have a life of its own almost as it escapes his lips. "Foggy." He leans hard on the cane and clutches the doorframe as he rounds the corner to call to him.

For a moment, Franklin thinks he heard a ghost, a memory, an echo trapped in here that remembers a name that he's increasingly not using.

But then he hears too much detail in it, not like Matty does, but the roughness of a pain filled breath (and he hates that he knows so well how that sounds on Matt's voice) and he turns to look and he already knows he can't believe what he's going to see. Can't not believe it.

"Matty?" There's something terrible and painful happening in his chest and gut. He manages a step forward. "You died. Jessica said you stayed down there. A mountain of dirt and rock. You died." They couldn't hold a funeral, of course, couldn't explain anything, but Jessica had talked to him. "You died."

Matt gets a stronger grip on the doorframe and pushes against the cane to right himself. If Foggy sees him in pain this is only going to be harder for Foggy, and Matt is trying to tell himself that this is happening for Foggy's benefit too, not just because he couldn't stay quiet in the back.

"I did," he confirms, voice a little rough. "I thought it was over. I don't know how I survived."

Matt has no idea how he looks, because standing up straighter does absolutely nothing to make him look like he's in less pain, like he's less...

Broken.

He wants to run over and grab Matt, hug him, be sure it's him and feel for injuries that he knows has to be under there but he's so damn scared. Scared Matt will not be there and this is just a new way for his brain to torture him and he's actually asleep on his desk. Scared Matt will be there and it will hurt him even more.

He lifts a trembling hand to swipe at his face and is surprised that it's dry. He's not crying, maybe because he doesn't remember how in this exact moment. "Can- Can I hug you? Will it hurt you? Fu- Fudge, Matty, you look like a building fell on you."

Matt's heart aches at Foggy's question. Can he- God. Matt was trying to calculate some stupid, complex way to make Foggy happier without letting himself think that this time will be different, that they won't end up in the same place they were before where removing himself from Foggy's life sure seems like it would make Foggy a lot happier in the long run. He's trying to get anchored before he's swept up in hope and Foggy leads with that question of all things, and his heart aches from both sorrow and want, and it reminds him exactly how much he loves Foggy. Shit. His heart is absolutely going to get ripped to shreds again. He's too weak.

"'s best you hug around the shoulders. My ribs are sore," he answers, opting to try smiling instead of crying. Foggy's best effort not to curse in the church orphanage is ridiculously cute, he observes, because of course his brain has decided now of all times to fawn over the man he can never have.

Foggy takes another step and then another and it's easy to keep going once he starts and he manages to not crash into Matt, not just tackle him and bear hug him and never let him go. He wraps his arms around Matt's shoulders and buries his face in his neck and just holds onto him. A hand finds the back of Matt's neck and squeezes softly, so careful to not hurt him more.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers, and maybe if it was someone else he'd worry about not being heard, but Matt, with his stupid super senses. "Don't do that again. I'm sorry, but don't you dare do that again. You come back."

Matt's mind blanks as if the trauma to his body had made him forget what caring human contact felt like, like years had passed while he was unconscious and it was all a fading memory. He's still sore and tired under his skin but the hug doesn't cause him any additional pain. He cautiously pats Foggy's back.

"What- What are you apologizing for? I'm the one who messed up everything," he says softly.

"I wasn't there."

Not down the hole. Before that. When Matt reached a point that staying in a hole with Elektra's body was the right choice for him. Foggy had his reasons and explanations and justifications and they had all felt like hollow excuses when Luke, Danny and Jess had all walked back into the police station and Matt hadn't.

"I should've been there."

Matt tells himself he might be misunderstanding what Foggy means but what else could he mean? His eyes sting with tears at the thought. Maybe some part of him had felt abandoned even though he was the first person to volunteer excuses for Foggy's distance. It wasn't as if they had been poor reasons either. Matt didn't dare assume he'd get anything more from Foggy.

"No, it's okay," Matt tries to remind him, "I screwed up. I was lucky you wanted to talk. For the jobs you sent."

The awkward exchanges over drinks might have hurt more than helped in the moment but they were well intended, he knows.

"It's not okay," Foggy whispers. He's also not letting go. He's far too scared of what will happen if he lets go to risk doing it. His hand strokes very, very gently over Matt's back, surreptitiously checking his injuries in a move meant as much to comfort both of them. "I should have made more effort to reach out, to try and check on you, to patch things up."

Matty was scarred. Foggy knows that. Life left huge scars and he let Matt's actions from that damage get to him in a way he said he wouldn't.

"You shouldn't have to- shouldn't have to force yourself." He could be more specific but anything and everything feels like it's included right now. He was just weighing the damage of his presence in Foggy's life a few minutes ago.

"I don't know how to make things better for you. I don't know if it's right to keep trying or if I'm going to make it worse." Then again he doesn't know the next step in so many ways.

Foggy hiccups on his laugh, leaning back to press a hand to Matt's cheek, looking at his dumb, lovely and wonderfully alive face. "Matty, I had to force myself to walk away, force myself not to call every morning and make sure you were okay, that you had made it through the night. I gave you jobs because that way I felt like I hadn't completely sold out you and us and myself, which I knew I had." He thinks he's crying but doesn't wipe his face to check. "I know my life has not been better thinking you were dead."

Matt's head bows slightly, eyes pointing downward. He wasn't sure Foggy was better off knowing a moment ago. "I don't know where I'm going from here. I can't go back to how it was those months since the firm closed. I don't know... If I can go back... Maybe it's for the best."

Not for Matt- he's feeling absolutely pitiful. But Foggy, Foggy has an entire "new life" that he still hesitates to invade.

"Shh." Foggy steps back in, so Matt's brow is touching his shoulder instead, leaning there. "You don't have to go back to limbo. I'm not letting you push me away again. I was wrong to let you do it at all."

Marci had insisted he wasn't wrong, that there was a line between supporting a friend with issues and being in a friendship where you always gave until you had nothing left. She'd been trying to be tactful, since Matt was dead and she didn't want Foggy to start crying again.

"You're going to stay here for now. For tonight, definitely. I'm going to make sure that the sisters know that I know and know that I'll be back tomorrow. I have some of your things and I know you'll be more comfortable with your own clothes and belongings." He runs his hand over Matt's back again softly. "I'd be dragging you out to eat somewhere if you didn't look like you had half Manhattan dropped on top of you."

"No, no, you already- Done too much for me- I can't-" Half sentences get out, the knot in his throat cutting him off before he can share each thought in its entirety. It's pitiful, he knows, to cling to him and cry on his shoulder while telling him to go but he's beyond caring. The fabric on Foggy's shoulder soaks in the tears, giving him a weak reminder to stop the crying and breathe. He can practically feel the tip of the old man's cane jab at his throat. Head up. Speak up.

"I can't go back. I'm always going to be that person you don't want. I can't pretend it's not who I am." He lifts his head and shakes it, his grip on Foggy loosening, trying to let go against his instincts.

Even God taking his powers hasn't convinced him.

"It's always going to be a part of me."

It's so rare that Matt lets himself be vulnerable. Foggy understands why a tiny bit more, hearing about Matt's 'training' (abuse) from an older, blind ninja. But it just makes him hug a little firmer, more determined to be there while it happens. "Matty... He wasn't the reason I was hurt. I mean, did I worry, will I worry? Yes, of course. It's scary and even knowing that you're apparently more unkillable than a cockroach won't stop that. I can cope with it."

The Devil is part of who Matt is. Sometimes, there's glimpses of him in the court, or when they walk the street from home to business, but he's always been there and Foggy can admit that now. The Devil is Matt's trauma and protector and everything else complicated that can't be covered by "Matt Murdock".

Matt starts letting go.

Foggy doesn't.

"I'd rather worry and fuss and get upset over a hundred nights like that night I found you in your place than think you're gone. Or worse. Not knowing."

That revelation is enough to make his heart jump in his chest, sending a dizzying wave through his fragile body. His hold on Foggy goes tighter again.

"I- I thought you wanted the vigilante and your best friend to be separate people," he says cautiously, like he might have misunderstood Foggy just now. He had been convinced when they were at their worst. "I thought you couldn't accept it. And you might... Blame me, like I blame myself, for the danger. For what happened to Karen and the other people at the warehouse... For what happened to you."

"Oh, Matty. No. No. It was never about that." Had it been hard? Of course. Hard was no reason to stop. "You really thought I was ending the partnership because you wouldn't stop your night stuff?" He had thought he was being clear about why he was ending it but just maybe, he'd been unclear. Unclear in Matt's language.

"Hey, is there somewhere we can sit down? I don't think you're meant to be walking around with those injuries yet." He looks around and then back where Matt came from. "Come on, I'm not going anywhere, but I want you resting."

Very unclear if Matt's worn and puzzled expression is anything to go on. His aching legs agree with the idea that they sit down soon and he steadies his weight against the cane again.

"Uh yeah. There's a... Room back here I've been staying in." He turns a little to gesture behind him back through the doorway to the hall. It's one of the rooms packed with beds, not the one he had been in growing up, but innately familiar nonetheless.

"Okay, give me an arm, that cane isn't made for leaning on and you know it." Foggy takes Matt's hand and wraps it around his own, to let him lean on Foggy, and let himself be guided (not that Matt ever really needs it). "Come on. Horizontal time for you, then we can talk more."

It's at least easy to find the right room and bed. The nuns are keeping everything as clean and neat as possible, but there's tell tale marks of Matt's injuries, treatment and frustration if you know how to look.

S3 alternative for clouded_heart

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