The city never sleeps, but still she rests on his shoulders. She is his to keep, even though he can never control her. This is not fate or chance, bad or good luck, it is a choice made of free will, and it comes with many sacrifices.
Matt is no stranger to loss. Each one of them was painful, some even devastating blows. But he carries on each time. Tears can not blur the vision of a blind man after all. So Matt believed that there was nothing that could break him.
He was wrong.
*
It is not a matter of seconds. Not a catastrophe, happening in the blink of an eye. The loss that is finally too much for Matt Murdock is drawn out for hours.
Fearful confusion sweeps through Hell’s Kitchen like an ill wind. Matt can not see, but he witnesses the world go quieter. The symphony of heartbeats which fills the streets loses half its orchestra, the other half playing faster and panicked. Steps, slow and quick, fall silent all of a sudden. Sources of heat vanish from his radar, leaving cries of desperation and shock around them. Left and right, people suddenly stop existing. They do not collapse and die then and there, they disappear. A shocked old man tells Matt they just turned to ash, taken away then by the wind.
“Foggy,” Matt whispers
“Not really, the ash disappears, too,” says the man.
Matt no longer pays attention. He races to their offices, much faster than a blind man should. But nobody cares for a single running man in a city full of panicking people. While he hurries through the streets, he answers the call of a tearful Karen who can not get a hold of Foggy and her father.
Later, he is pacing in his office. From the reception area, he hears Karen dial Foggy’s number again and again. Her father wrote a text, Foggy didn’t. Sometimes she can’t even get a connection, the lines bursting with worried people, frantically searching their loved ones.
The hours creep forward and not a sign from Foggy. Karen calls his friends and family, but Matt knows it’s no use. Matt knows Foggy would call him first - it’s not vanity to think that, it’s just true.
When the sun sets, Karen has stopped phoning around. She sits in her chair, tears running down her face, and waits. For what, Matt doesn’t know. Worse, he doesn’t care. Also, he doesn’t care about work. Still, he sits at his desk almost until ten. Because while his work has no longer any meaning, neither has going home. What is home anyway? Such an empty word at the end of the day.
So when Karen leaves, Matt doesn’t go to his apartment. He goes to Foggy’s office. After a while, he leaves for Foggy’s apartment. Foggy won’t come home, but this place is filled with his scent and the things he loved.
Matt breathes in deep, catches the lingering scent of Foggy’s aftershave, the showergel and the shampoo he used this morning. Strolling through the kitchen, Matt slides a finger along the rim of the coffee cup and eats the crust of Foggy’s breakfast sandwich. Foggy always left the crust - spoiled bastard.
Several TV channels broadcast an Avengers press conference. They say what happened, but not what the fuck they’re gonna do about it. For a moment, Matt’s numbness turns to anger. Anger at his own impotence. If the Avengers can do nothing, what can a street brawler like Daredevil do? He thinks about getting drunk. But then the numb feeling returns all on its own so what’s the point?
Foggy’s bedroom is where Matt allows himself to cry. Wrapped up in the blanket emanating the smell of Foggy’s sweat, Matt weeps into the pillow, carrying the scent of Foggy’s hair. Tears subside after a while, leaving him with painful, dry, body wracking sobs.
Matt’s body tires, but his mind does not. So the sleep that claims him is haunted by dreams of lies, deceptions and their fallout. Of forgiveness. But mostly, of unsaid things and untaken chances.
“Matt! Matt! What are you doing here?” Where does this voice come from? “Why would you not charge your phone on a day like this?” Someone shakes his shoulders. “Hey!”
Matt startles awake. His dreams are often filled with color and light. So are his nightmares and that’s why he is glad for the darkness that surrounds him now.
But… he is not alone. A familiar shape radiates warmth, a well-known heartbeat reaches his ear and a scent of home and belonging fills his nostrils.
“Foggy?” Matt asks weakly.
“Yeah,” sighs Foggy. “Sorry for having you guys worried. I was in the subway when suddenly several people turned to ash! Including our driver. Someone pulled the emergency stop to, you know, avoid collisions with other leaderless trains. But there we were. Took them hours to get us out and then the FBI… Matt? Wha…”
Without thinking further, Matt jumps up and kisses Foggy. It is desperate and filthy. Matt’s lips all but pry open Foggy’s mouth so he can plunge his tongue in, mapping out what should not have remained unexplored for so long.
Foggy gasps into the kiss. His hands scramble for leverage and find it in Matt’s shirt. When his fingers curl into the fabric, Matt groans, grabs Foggy’s plush ass and pulls him closer. Chest to chest, they lose themselves in each other for what might have been minutes or hours.
“I…thought,” Matt says between kisses, “I… lost you… I… didn’t know… how to… go on.”
“Hmm… was so worried,” Foggy chimes in. “... no signal in the tunnels… afterwards… your phone off…”
Matt breaks the kiss. “I don’t want to waste any more time, Foggy,” he says.
Relieved, he finds that Foggy knows what he is talking about.
“Me neither,” Foggy says. “It was… a bit of fun, right? Flirting, teasing…”
“Children’s games,” Matt says. “I don’t want to play anymore.”
“Alright.” Foggy nods. “So… what’s the plan?”
“I’ll tell you the plan.” Matt pushes Foggy to the mattress and follows. He presses their lips together and starts undressing Foggy, “I’ll fuck you now - or you me if you insist. Then we sleep. Tomorrow we’ll pack your stuff and you move in with me. In a few months, I’ll marry you. In a few years, we’ll adopt three kids.”
“Hmm, I think I can get behind this,” Foggy chuckles.
“Oh, that’s a misunderstanding,” Matt says casually as he nips at Foggy’s throat. “I’m not making suggestions, I’m merely informing you.”
Laughing, Foggy tilts his head to give Matt better access to his neck, “I see. Thanks for the heads up.”
“You’re welcome.” Matt smiles against Foggy’s pulse point before sucking a mark into the vulnerable skin. “I assume there are lube and condoms in that drawer?”
Objectively, this isn’t sexy at all. They’re both nervous, needy and clumsy. When they’re finally naked, they giggle and fumble in the dark. Like teenagers, they struggle with the condoms and in the end, there is more lube on the sheets than inside Foggy’s ass or on Matt’s cock.
It’s the best sex Matt’s ever had.
When he pushes in, he sighs in bliss. Foggy feels amazing around his cock and Matt has to restrain himself as not to come right then. Setting a steady pace, he takes in Foggy’s reactions, stores away the information, the touches that make Foggy’s breath hitch and his heart race and the motions that make him moan and whimper. Since he won’t last long, he puts to use what he learns, makes sure to kiss Foggy’s throat softly, to pull his hair not too lightly and not too harsh, to hit his prostate just right.
Foggy thanks him, wordless, with sweet noises, gasping and panting. Only Matt’s name sometimes comes out and Matt steals the lovely sound right from Foggy’s lips.
Then Foggy clenches around Matt, draws him in even deeper. Almost at the same time, they climax, holding on to each other so tight that it hurts.
Exhausted, they lie in each other’s arms afterwards. Outside, black turns to red and gold at the horizon when Matt drifts off.
*
People disappeared, lives were ruined, families ripped apart. A huge challenge lies ahead. For the whole world, but also for this city. Daredevil will do his part. He always does. But for now, he rests. In the arms of his longtime best friend and newly found lover.
The city never sleeps, but sometimes he has to.