Archive of Our Own

Matt had several different roommates before he met Foggy. All of them were okay, in the sense that he managed to get along with them, but they never really became friends. And really, that was more of their decision than Matt's. People didn't want to be tied down with a blind person who rarely went out and spent most of his time studying. They were in for the whole college experience, which to them included frats, parties, drinking, and girls.

Matt lost track of how many times he had been left alone in the dorms on Friday and Saturday nights, his roommates leaving to have some fun.

It was lonely, but then again Matt was used to it. He hadn't ever been one to really make friends. Even before the accident, most of the other kids picked on him, mocking him about his clothes and father and how they lived on the brink of poverty.

At the orphanage it wasn't much different. People considered him to be weird, standoffish, and once he had started getting into fights, the other kids stayed away entirely.

But then he met Foggy. Foggy, who treated him like an equal, who made an effort to get to know him, to learn about his likes and dislikes. Who really, truly seemed to care about him.

Foggy was the first friend that Matt had ever really had. Nonetheless, Matt always had a fear that one day Foggy might get bored and leave him.

Foggy had sounded really excited about the party over at Joe's place. Joe was in three of their classes, and he and Foggy seemed to get along quite well, something that Matt was occasionally jealous of, not that he would ever admit it.

The fact that Foggy had mentioned the party three times in one week showed how much he wanted to go, and when he asked if Matt wanted to attend as well, he had agreed. Foggy seemed surprised at this, as Matt had spoken about his dislike of parties before, but had also seemed happy that for once they'd be going out somewhere beyond the campus diner and bar.

Joe’s apartment was decent sized, but there were a lot of people in attendance. From outside the building Matt could smell the booze and food they had, could hear them talking. As he and Foggy entered, he braced himself for the sensory overload that was sure to hit him.

Foggy had held onto Matt's elbow, guiding him along until someone greeted him.

“Sammy!” Foggy said, a smile in his voice. “How goes it?”

Matt turned his head, listening to the conversation. He didn't recall Foggy mentioning anyone named Sammy before.

“Same shit different day,” Sammy replied.

“I feel ya. Oh hey, this is my roommate, Matt. Matt, this is Sammy Dickson. We had Punjabi together last year.”

Sammy reached out to shake Matt's hand, but withdrew awkwardly when he realized Matt was blind.

“Nice to meet you,” Sammy said, before turning his attention back to Foggy. “There's pizza and drinks in the kitchen, Joe's back there somewhere.”

“See you in a bit,” Foggy told him, and Matt heard Sammy’s footsteps as he walked away.

“Let’s go get some food,” Foggy then said, and without waiting for Matt to reply, he began leading him off.

There were eight people in the small kitchen. It was packed near to capacity. Everyone was talking, eating, drinking. Matt could sense Joe nearby - he’d met the guy once before - and he wasn’t surprised when Foggy made a beeline to greet him.

“Foggy!” Joe called out. He was sitting at a small table that had somehow been wedged into the room. “Glad you can make it. Oh, hey Matt!”

Joe was a friendly person, always kind to Matt, which was one of the reasons that Matt had agreed to go.

“Hey Joe,” Matt answered. “Big party you’ve got.”

Joe smiled.

“Yeah, seems like everyone and their mother showed up.”

Matt was distracted as he felt Foggy’s hand move from his elbow.

“You mind if I go say hi to everyone? There’s a chair in front of you, counter top with pizza on it five steps to the left, and drinks on the table.”

Matt didn’t particularly like the idea of being left on his own, even if it was just for a few minutes, but the way Foggy’s heart was racing told him that there was someone else there that he wanted to see. And the scent of delicate perfume coming from a few feet away meant that it was likely a girl.

“Go,” Matt told him. “I’ll be fine.”

Foggy patted him on the shoulder.

“Thanks buddy. I’ll be back in a few.”

Matt forced a smile as Foggy walked off.

With his friend now gone, Matt helped himself to a slice of pizza and stood in the corner to eat it, so at least he was doing something beyond looking awkward and alone.

Foggy was gone for more than a few minutes. Matt could hear him, just barely, across the apartment, talking to a group of people, a group that included the girl with the perfume. Had Foggy ever mentioned her before? He didn’t think so. Maybe he was just getting to know her.

He finished his slice of pizza and took another one, just to continue looking busy. Joe had tried to force a conversation a few times, but Matt felt too nervous to really respond, so he had dropped it. No one else bothered to acknowledge him for any more than asking him to move so they could get to something they wanted in the fridge or on the counter. He had heard a girl mention ‘that cute guy in the corner’ to her friend, and that had lifted his spirits somewhat, but only until the friend replied that he’d been in some of her classes and ‘was kind of weird and you know he’s blind’.

The first girl had simply said “oh” and left it at that.

And then, halfway through his third slice (he didn’t even like pizza all that much, and he’d been wondering how much of it he’d have to eat before Foggy would come back) he heard Foggy’s voice.

“Matt!”

Matt turned to face the direction the voice was coming from.

“Foggy.”

“Matt, come over. Wait, I’ll come get you. We’re playing a game. You should join.”

Footsteps, as Foggy got closer. Matt could smell the booze on him. Foggy wasn’t trashed, just buzzed. He took hold of Matt’s elbow.

“Come on, it’ll be fun.”

There was a lot of alcohol. Matt could smell it coming from the coffee table that everyone was gathered around. Foggy led him to a seat on the couch, and he sat down. Six other heartbeats pounded at his sides and in front of him.

“We’re playing Never Have I Ever,” Foggy informed him. “If you’ve done something that a person says, you have to take a shot.”

“Oh, boy.” Matt had heard about this game, and was slightly less than enthused to be part of it, but he didn’t have it in him to try to leave.

“If you want to play, of course,” Foggy added. “Don’t feel like you have to.”

“Nah, come on,” another voice - someone he hadn’t met before - spoke up. “I see him in class all the time, all quiet. Maybe this will loosen him up a bit.”

A hand - a female hand - rested on his forearm.

“It’s really fun,” the girl said softly. It was her - the girl with the perfume - the one Foggy liked.

Matt considered it all. He did drink, but usually not to excess, and he was pretty lightweight. A couple beers at the bar could give him a buzz, maybe because of how heightened his senses were. The littlest thing could set him off.

Then again, he’d managed to stitch up his dad with a little bit of whiskey in him. He’d probably be okay if he had a shot or two.

Taking all of this into account, Matt nodded his head to show that he wanted to play.

“Great!” The male voice cheered. “Okay, Maddie, you start.”

“Never have I ever gotten stitches,” the girl said.

Matt almost laughed. Had that question been chosen specifically for him? Then again, how could Maddie know anything about him?

The guy in front of him poured out shots, and Matt moved to take one. It was whiskey and it reminded him of his dad, and he didn’t have much of a problem taking it.

It burned as it went down his throat, but he said nothing. Now it was his turn to speak.

“Hmm,” he thought up a good question. “Never have I ever gone surfing.”

It only took a few minutes for the first shot to give him a slight buzz, a warm feeling. It calmed him, and he felt it was easier to socialize.

A few minutes later, someone mentioned something about falling from a roof, and he took another shot. Someone asked why he would be on a roof, and for a second Matt worried he might have to explain himself, but Foggy jumped in and told them that it was before he was blind.

The third shot went down even easier than the others, as did the fourth. By then, Matt’s head was swimming. He felt dazed, but in a good, calm way, like nothing really mattered. He didn’t care that he was surrounded by strangers, that Foggy apparently had friends and a crush that he hadn’t mentioned.

After the sixth, Foggy finally put a hand on his arm.

“Matty, I think you’re good, yeah?”

Matt smiled, noticing that his lips felt kind of numb.

“It’s all good.”

Foggy smiled back.

“That’s the spirit.”

Still, he pulled Matt away from the game before he could drink any more.

It was hard to walk. Matt felt like his legs were jelly. Sensing anything around him was out of the question, and he leaned heavily on Foggy, who carefully walked him to another room.

This room was quieter, and if Matt really listened, he thought he could recognize a few of the voices within it. They were classmates of his, all people he at least had met before.

He allowed Foggy to sit him on a bed and felt it dip as Foggy moved to sit near him.

“Hey man,” one of the voices said, probably to Foggy. “Is he okay?”

Matt realized the question was probably in reference to himself.

“He’s okay. In his own private Idaho right now,” Foggy replied. “Right, Matty?”

“Yup,” Matt replied.

Everything was kind of hazy, in a good way.

There was conversation which he tried to follow. Someone asked him what he thought of a certain professor, the one who was notorious for giving insanely hard tests, but all he could think to say was that the class was “not fun”.

Eventually, he began to get tired. Foggy was still near him, and what better place to rest his head than on Foggy’s shoulder. He did this, but jumped back when he heard someone chuckle.

“Needy one, isn’t he?” Someone asked.

Foggy rolled his eyes.

“It’s okay. He’s wasted. Here, Matty,” he wrapped an arm around Matt, “You can put your head down.”

Matt rested his head on Foggy’s shoulder again and closed his eyes.

The next thing Matt realized was that there was a new smell in the room. It was familiar, something he’d smelled a bunch of times before. What was it? He searched his brain, trying to figure out the answer, but it was too hard.

“You want a hit?” Someone asked Foggy.

Pot. It was pot.

A lot of people smoked it on campus, even though it was forbidden and illegal in general. He’d never actually done it before but he recognized it.

Foggy took the blunt and held it to his lips, inhaling and holding it.

Since when did Foggy smoke pot? Did he do it often? Why hadn’t he told Matt about it?

Matt sat up as he thought this over. Did Foggy have a whole secret life that Matt knew nothing about?

It bothered him. Why wouldn’t Foggy tell him that he liked drugs? That he had a crush on perfume girl? That he had a friend named Sammy?

A look of worry must have come across his face, because someone tapped him on the shoulder.

“Matt,” a voice said. He sort of recognized it. Someone from class. “You want a hit?”

He knew he shouldn’t do it. If he got caught, he could get expelled or worse. But Foggy was there, and Foggy was doing it, so it had to be okay, right?

In his drunk state, it made sense to him.

He took the blunt and held it to his lips, coughing once the smoke hit his lungs.

“Whoa, there,” Foggy said, taking the blunt away from him and rubbing his back. “Calm down Matt.”

There was laughing. The people in the room were laughing at him.

“Hey come on guys, it’s his first time,” Foggy said, glaring at them.

“Maybe he’ll like this more,” came a female voice.

The girl took Matt’s hand and pressed something into it. It was soft, and it smelled like chocolate.

“Try it,” the girl urged.

Matt sniffed it. Brownie batter, eggs, some other ingredients that he should know the names of. And of course, marijuana.

He held it to his lips and took a bite, Foggy watching him as he chewed.

It was surprisingly good. Before Foggy could even move to take the rest from him, he shoved it into his mouth all at once, chewed it as best he could and swallowed it. He wasn’t sure why he did it, he had just liked the taste.

More laughing. Someone saying something about making sure he didn’t choke. Then Foggy, asking how much pot was in the brownie. Someone else responding that Matt would be okay, that a little weed never killed anyone.

For a while he was fine, still calm. Calm enough to allow some girl who took pity on him to wipe the chocolate from his face with a tissue.

And then it began to hit. His heart rate picked up. Something was wrong.

“Foggy,” he whispered, gripping onto his friend’s arm. “Foggy, this isn’t good.”

“It can’t hurt you, Matt,” Foggy whispered back. “No one ever OD’d on pot.”

Matt couldn’t shake it. Something was wrong.

His hearing was coming back. In the distance, he could hear sirens. Cop cars. Cops were coming to the party. They were going to come in and see all the drinks and smell the pot and then they’d all be arrested. He’d be expelled from Columbia. Everything he had worked for would be gone. He wouldn’t even have a place to live! His scholarships covered room and board, where else could he go?

It was too much. He began to breathe heavier.

Foggy put a hand on his knee.

“Matt. Matt, what’s wrong?”

He sounded so concerned.

Matt shook his head. His chest felt like it was locking up. He couldn’t get any air in.

“Foggy. Cops. We’ll get in trouble,” he managed to gasp out.

Foggy raised an eyebrow.

“Matt, there’s no cops here. No one’s going to get in trouble.”

Matt listened again, as best he could. The sirens were getting closer.

“I hear them,” he said, and now it was really getting difficult to get enough air. “Foggy, we’re in trouble.”

Matt was starting to hyperventilate, and it was enough to snap everyone else in the room into action.

“Is he okay?” Someone asked.

Another person suggested getting him some water. There were footsteps as people moved about. Another hand on him, this time on his shoulder. A girl’s hand. She was rubbing his back.

“Matt, it’s okay, you’re okay,” she told him.

Foggy’s voice, agreeing with her.

His chest was so tight. The sirens were even closer now. He started shaking, rocking.

Foggy’s arms were around him, he could feel Foggy hugging him, holding him, trying to calm him. It didn’t help.

His heart was racing. And then, there was another feeling. Matt knew what it was, but couldn’t figure out what to do about it. It was as if his body wasn’t his own anymore. He couldn’t control it.

It hurt as he felt it coming up his chest, into his throat. Without thinking, he leaned over and began to be sick.

There was a shriek from the girl next to him as he vomited onto her lap. The smell of chocolate and bile and tomato sauce as everything he’d eaten in the past few hours made a reappearance.

“Oh my fucking God,” came the girl’s voice. Then the space next to him was empty. He could vaguely hear her stomping out of the room and yelling.

Foggy’s arms were still around him. His heart was still racing.

“Matt!” Came Foggy’s voice. “Matt, you need to breathe!”

Matt shook his head ‘no’. It was too much to ask. He couldn’t do it.

There was the sound of the door opening. The smell of someone - Joe - coming in.

Matt tried to tune into the conversation, but could only get bits and pieces. Something about taking him home, someone named Steph being upset.

And then he was being hauled to his feet. An arm was wrapped around his waist.

“Lean on me, Matty,” Foggy instructed. “We’re going to go home now.”

Foggy was grateful that Matt wasn’t a big man. He was light enough for Foggy to walk him out the door, to the elevator and outside where a cab was waiting. Joe had been nice enough to flag one down.

The cold air hitting Matt’s face startled him, and for a second, he began to calm.

“Fog,” he murmured, leaning more so onto his friend.

“I’m right here, Matty,” Foggy answered. “We’ll be home soon.”

Matt let Foggy help him into the backseat. The door closed, and for a second Matt thought that Foggy might have left him there. Then the door on the other side of the car opened and Foggy got in.

As they left, Matt heard the sirens once again. They were far past the apartment complex by now. They’d never been going there in the first place.

Back at their dorm, Foggy deposited Matt onto his bed.

“Stay there for a minute,” Foggy instructed.

Matt didn't think he had much of an option. Walking unassisted was out of the question right then.

He still felt so dizzy, lightheaded, like he was going to pass out. The nausea was still there, too.

Foggy must have sensed this because soon a trash bin was placed in Matt’s hands. Just in time, too. Foggy rubbed his back as he was sick once again, bringing up a disgusting mix of booze and half digested pizza.

“You’re okay,” Foggy kept repeating, continuing to rub Matt’s back. “Just get it out.”

Matt panted, the smell of his own sick making him feel worse. Eventually, there was nothing left to come up, and he pushed the bin into Foggy’s hand.

Foggy didn’t say anything. He just took the bin and placed it on the ground, then pressed a water bottle to Matt’s lips.

“You need to drink this,” he said. Matt didn’t make any move to hold it for himself, so Foggy held it in place until half the bottle was gone.

Matt had to admit that he did feel slightly better.

Only then did the realization of what he’d done hit him.

Still half drunk, it was too much. He couldn’t control his emotions, couldn’t hold them back like he normally would. He held a hand to his mouth in a last desperate attempt to keep from crying.

Then he felt Foggy remove it, and pull him into a hug.

“Why’re you crying, Matty?” He asked.

Foggy began to rock him gently, back and forth. It was slightly comforting.

When Matt didn’t answer, Foggy spoke again.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay. You’re gonna be fine, I promise. You just had too much to drink and pot doesn’t agree with you. It’s okay.”

Matt shook his head. How could he explain it? There was just so much to say.

“Embarrassed you,” he finally whispered, sniffling.

“Nah,” Foggy responded, continuing to rock him. Foggy’s heart jumped a little, and Matt could tell he was lying.

“Yes I did. An’ you’re gonna leave. An’ I’ll be alone again.”

Foggy stopped moving, and Matt braced himself for the inevitable goodbye that he was sure would follow.

“Matt.”

Matt felt Foggy’s hands on his shoulders.

“Matt, I’m never going to leave. I’m not going to stop being your friend over something as dumb as this. Why would you think that?”

Foggy’s heart rate was steady. Not a lie, then?

Still, it seemed too good to be true.

“I embarrassed you. And you have other friends, better friends,” he answered, another tear falling down his cheek.

Foggy sighed.

“Okay, was that a little bit much, yes. But it’s my fault, Matty. You don’t like parties, and you don’t drink and you never do drugs. I should’ve been looking out for you, not encouraging you. So anything that happened there is on me, pal.”

Matt shook his head, and the motion made him dizzy.

“My fault too. I’m an adult. I can make decisions. I wanted to meet them,” Matt tried to explain. “Your other friends. You don’t talk about them. And I thought maybe if I went with you, you would stay with me longer, because we were having fun like you do with them.”

Foggy blinked, trying to take in everything Matt had said.

“So, you went to the party with me because you are afraid I’m going to drop you as a friend, because you’re not as fun as my other friends, who I don’t talk about with you?”

Matt nodded again, instantly regretting it. He sniffled as another tear worked its way down, but was shocked to feel Foggy’s fingers wiping it away.

“Matt. I’m honestly insulted that you’d think something like that. You’re my best friend! I would never just drop you and walk away. Do I like to go to parties and talk to girls, sure. But I love just hanging out with you, too. Some of the best times of my life are just the two of us together, at the diner or the bar or even just here, talking. You get me, Matt. I promise you, I’ll never just leave, not like that.”

Foggy’s heart beat remained steady. Matt didn’t fight it as Foggy pulled him into a hug and began to rub his back again.

“Please, promise me you won’t ever worry about that again.”

Matt sniffed. That was a hard thing to promise. He didn’t want to lie. He probably would consider it again.

“Why didn’t you tell me about them? Sammy, and… Maddie?” Matt tried to think of perfume girl’s name.

Foggy shrugged.

“I see Sammy in passing. We’re more acquaintances than friends. And I just met Maddie like two weeks ago. I wasn’t sure if anything would come of it. It didn’t seem worth bringing up.”

Matt said nothing. Those were fair reasons.

After several minutes of being held, Matt felt Foggy gently push him up.

“Alright. I think it’s time for you to get some sleep. I’m gonna get your pajamas and you’re going to brush your teeth and drink some water. Hopefully you won’t have a hangover since you puked most of the alcohol up.”

He heard Foggy shuffling around the room, opening drawers. Soon Foggy was helping him remove his shoes, shirt and pants. Matt probably could have done it himself, but he felt very weak and tired, and he was grateful for the assistance.

After he brushed his teeth and had another bottle of water, Foggy led him back to his bed, going so far as to tuck him in.

Matt expected Foggy to get up once that was done, but he didn’t. Instead, Foggy sat on the edge of the bed and began to run his fingers through Matt’s hair.

“I’ll stay here until you fall asleep,” Foggy promised. “And I’ll be here in the morning. And we’ll always be friends.”

“Promise?” Matt asked, not caring how needy he sounded.

“I promise,” Foggy answered.