Chapter Text
Josie’s was one of the places that withstand a lot of changes throughout the year—a stubborn will to remain the same despite the inevitable roll of changes that crashed through time. You were pleasantly surprised when you stepped in, the familiarity of the place you wasted your time back in good olden days still offered the same comfort that used to lull you in.
Even the faces were still recognizable. Josie still remembered your usual drink—a simple vodka soda. She was still bracing and brash and oddly welcoming.
Your eyes cast glances around, wistfully drinking the whole thing. The sticky floor that will make walking a bitch and a half to do, the neon light that washed the room, and the pool table tucked behind. It was funny how Josie’s seemingly went through a very small amount of changes yet you couldn’t say much about yourself.
New York had been home once—and still is inside your heart—abandoned long ago in pursuit of dreams calling from outside. You sucked your drink through a straw slowly and sighed, cursing the thought of having to leave this place again.
Landing your eyes to a familiar spot, you felt your heart sink to the bottom of your stomach like a heavy sandbag. It was now filled with a group of rowdy people, clearly drunk but glued to their seats and keen to drink the night away. That exact spot used to be an unofficial official throne of you and Foggy and Matt.
It wasn’t anyone’s fault really. If anything, there wasn’t any problem in the first place—it was a matter of different schedules and different places. Frequent texts and calls eventually reduced into scarce greetings, and eventually yearly birthday wishes.
God, you missed those idiots so much.
“Fuck me, did my eyes deceive me or is it really you?”
You whirled around towards the source of the voice—familiar and warm and tugging your chest painfully. You gasped, eyes widened like a saucer when you finally met the owner of the voice.
“Foggy?” you let out a laugh, more of a surprise than mirth.
“You, bitch! ” Foggy squealed and rushed himself towards you. You didn’t think twice, you accepted his invitation for a hug and squealed back. “You’re in the city and didn’t call? What the hell, man!”
“I know, I know.”
“I thought I was hallucinating when I saw a familiar face,” Foggy shook his head. “It’s really you.”
“Aww, I miss you too.”
“Don’t make me push you,” Foggy warned half-heartedly. “You should’ve called.”
“Well—”
“Matt! Matt! Matt, get your butt over here and guess who I just met!”
Matt appeared behind Foggy’s back almost as if the air conjured him up out of nowhere. You raised eyebrows to your hairline and snickered, never thought you’d see him in his after hours. He still looked the same but older, sans his funky glasses, which he abandoned and replaced with cooler ones. It framed his face better, you admit.
He was holding a bottle of beer in his left hand. You rolled your eyes. The more things change, the more they stay the same.
“You still like that awful bland beer,” you mused.
“And you’re still as awfully opinionated as ever,” Matt shot back with a grin. “Didn’t think of ringing any of us while you’re visiting?”
“ See! I told you!”
You rolled your eyes. “I didn’t plan on visiting. Also didn’t plan to stay long.”
“This sounds like a story worth telling over drinks, don’t you think?” Foggy wiggled his eyebrows. “Join our table! And oh—I want to introduce you to someone. You’d like her.”
“Is this someone special?”
“If you were thinking what I’m thinking, then no.”
Matt wordlessly grabbed your drink from the counter and walked towards the table. It was hidden in the middle of busy patrons that chased for fun on the night, hidden enough from unassuming eyes. You didn’t know what to feel about how Matt and Foggy had found another spot to sit and lounge around in Josie’s without you.
True enough, someone was waiting at their table with a drink trapped between her hands. She introduced herself as Karen, and she had a very sweet smile and welcoming eyes. She lit up like a Christmas tree when Matt introduced you to her, almost made you feel like a magical being and she was a hopeful child that wished could get a glimpse of you. You were glad that Matt and Foggy managed to find a friend in her.
“I’m so, so, so glad that I get to finally see the face behind the name they talk about so often!” Karen practically squealed in your ears, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to mind. “Gosh, they talk a lot about you and it feels like we’re friends already.”
You snorted a laugh. “They did?” you shook your head. “Good things only, I hope.”
“Most of them,” she winked.
“If you ever tell anyone any weird stories about me, I swear, ” you punched Foggy’s arm playfully.
He gasped dramatically in faux pain, staring at you with a scandalized look. “Ow!” he hissed. “I would never! Matt, however—”
“Don’t drag me into your mess, I’m not the one who couldn’t shut up once drunk.”
You gasped. “Oh, you’re an ass, Nelson.”
Karen chuckled. “I take it as you have some juicy stuff on both of them then?”
“A lot, you wouldn’t believe most of it.”
“Tell me! Tell me!”
Foggy sputtered, “I didn’t take you here to stain my name!”
“You should know better than that,” you said and laughed out loud when he flipped you. “So, Karen, how did you end up with these losers?”
Karen perked up at you. She launched into the story immediately in great detail, you were both horrified and intrigued at the amount of mess it involved to take them into this point. You couldn’t bring yourself to feel surprised—somehow this was the exact kind of mess you had thought Foggy, but most of all Matt would get themselves into.
“—so I offer to become their secretary after the whole mess,” she laughed as she finished her story, hand wafting in the air merrily with her story. “What a story, huh?”
“I’m so sorry you have to end up with these losers after the whole mess,” you said with the best sincerity you could muster. Foggy booed and threw a crumpled tissue at you, whilst Matt nudged your feet underneath the table.
“They can be a handful,” Karen nodded cheekily. “Okay, okay, enough about me. I want to know what they were like in college? They have this pact of solidarity going on and won’t tell me anything.”
Foggy shook his head frantically and mouthed you to shut your mouth and not let out a single word.
Matt cleared his throat obnoxiously and slowly turned around in your general direction. “So, what brings you here?”
“Oh yeah,” Foggy perked up at the opportunity to steer the conversation away. “What brings you here until you forget to call?”
You snorted at your drink. Foggy and his petty streak were two things that never ceased to amuse you greatly.
“It’s Mom,” you said, trying your best to sound as nonchalant as ever. “She’s been… well, not well to say the least. She keeps insisting she’s fine,” you sighed and toyed with the straw on your drink, already half-empty. “I’m just worried, you know? My siblings and I live so far away.”
Matt pushed a plate of french fries towards your direction. “Move back here.”
You blinked at him. “Well, I have a job that is not here,” you grabbed a french fries and shove one to your mouth, nearly laughing at how familiar the taste was. Even the grease stubbornly remained the same as the rest of this bar was. “But it does sound like it would be a great idea, though.”
“You know what? Just move here,” Foggy nodded solemnly. “I’m serious. What’s so good about your firm anyway?”
“They pay pretty numbers,” you retorted.
“It doesn’t have to be a mere idea, you know,” Matt dipped french fries into hot sauce and offered it to you. “Moving back here.”
You chuckled mirthlessly. “You are both aware that it’s not exactly easy to find a job here, yes? I still need a job,” you took the fries from Matt and munched it quietly. “Besides I don’t think Sergio would really like moving into a new place. He hates it.”
“You really need to throw him away,” Foggy scoffed.
“I would never! ” you gasped, horrified that Foggy ever suggested that to you.
“What’s so good about him anyway?”
“He is my life!”
“ What! ” Foggy said in a high-pitched voice. “You would never dedicate a life to a man before.”
“What? What man?”
“Repeat after me, okay, repeat after me,” Foggy shook his head frantically. “No man is cute enough to hinder you from your dreams.”
You blinked at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“He’s right,” Karen nodded solemnly. “You should never let a man dictate your life. Fuck them!”
“Yeah! Fuck them!” Foggy parroted excitedly.
You gaped and flickered your eyes between them and Matt—who happily sipped his beer and refrain himself from chiming in, hiding a smile beneath the rim of the bottle.
“What are we talking about again?” you asked slowly, unsure.
“Let me clarify,” Foggy cleared his throat and sat straighter. “Fuck Sergio, and fuck what he thinks if you want to move back here.”
You blinked at him before bursting into a laugh. “Sergio is my cat, Fogs,” you wheezed, shaking your head. “He gets anxious in a new place! He hates traveling far.”
“Oh… oh. Oh, yeah, that makes a lot more sense.” Foggy blinked owlishly. “Who the hell in their right mind names their cat Sergio anyway?!”
“I did! Here, look at him,” you fumbled with your phone and shoved it towards his face. “He looks like someone whose name is Sergio!”
“He looks like a cat .”
“A cat whose name is Sergio.”
“Why the hell would you name him Sergio?”
“Look at him!”
“ I am. ”
“Okay, okay, enough,” Matt snorted and pulled your arm away from shoving Foggy with a picture of Sergio wearing a frog hat. “Also, you forgot one thing,” he turned around slightly to face your direction. “Me and Foggy own our firm. We can always use one more associate.”
“Here,” Foggy fumbled with his wallet for a little while and slid over a business card towards you. His business card—printed on a fancy paper with fancy font and all. Nelson and Murdock. It made you smile slightly. “In case you need convincing to endure Sergio’s hatred for a new place and would like to build our old dream again together. I also still think you shouldn’t name your cat Sergio, by the way.”
You rolled your eyes and sighed, tracing your fingers at the business card on your hand. It felt sturdy and somewhat heavy, the pressing weight of reality that your friends trudged along to build the dream you once shared with them without you laying on your palm. It should bore your name too somewhere in the middle, but it never did.
Nelson and Murdock, so they became.
There’s a flower shop tucked amidst concrete jungle like an oasis in the middle of a desert.
It was hidden enough from unassuming eyes, but once you landed your gaze on it, you were unable to see the other way. Stepping inside was almost as if you were transported into another realm beyond human comprehension—colorful and soft and blooming with life—a treat and a break from the bleak city outside.
You walked slowly between rows of flowers that winked at you beautifully, trying to lull you in with their charm in wish you’d pick them to take them home. The lady behind the counter patiently watched you ogle every single flower displayed.
You halted your step as your eyes landed on a bucket of carnations. Hand traveled down to your bag where you could feel the shape of your wallet pressing, you let out a sigh at the reminder of the previous night’s encounter. Foggy’s and Matt’s words echoed inside your head, and the pressing weight of Foggy’s business card suddenly felt hot against your palm.
It sounded too good to be true, yet it was too tempting to be ignored and brushed over as if it were merely drunken words and nothing more. You couldn’t say you were truly happy with the nature of your job now—considering the firm you were working on was sitting in the hot seat for winning a very controversial case—and it left you feeling hollow and purposeless.
It should be about helping people reach the justice they deserve. Yet after everything, you felt like you only denied them the only thing you worked hard for—it felt vile.
A soft chime of the bell above the door pulled you out of your trances, but it was the familiar and unmistakable sound of tapping against the floor that made you turn your head around.
The tapping sound receded in hesitant stop. “This is not a coffee shop, is it?”
“Oh, this is a flower shop,” the lady said kindly. She immediately stood up from her seat. “Do you need help to reach the coffee shop? It’s not far, I can walk you.”
“Oh no,” Matt laughed politely and shook his head. “No, thank you. I guess I mistake your shop with the coffee shop.”
You slowly sneaked behind him, careful to make sure your footstep was light. Matt had the knack of recognizing someone’s footsteps somehow.
“Aren’t you a delight, Murdock? It’s good to have a familiar face around,” you tapped his shoulder lightly.
Matt whirled around, his face pinched in confusion briefly before it dissolved into a knowing smirk, a soft laugh escaped his lips. “Of course, I’d find you here.”
“You should know better. I like flowers.”
“You and your obsession with plants,” Matt said with a smile. He extended his hand towards you slightly. “Show me around?”
You linked your arm in his middle and started to guide him into the nearest flower—a white lily stood proudly—and nodded towards the kind lady behind the counter. “What you’d like to know, Murdock?”
“Whichever flower you find pretty?”
“You know I found every single of them pretty.”
“Not all of them,” Matt retorted. “You like sunflowers the best.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Can’t believe you remember.”
“It’s hard to forget when you keep yapping about it.”
You elbowed his rib, ignoring his pained grunt as you dragged him closer to the next flower and began to describe what you saw. Matt had always been a great audience when it came to your plant shopping routine, he was attentive and more than happy to listen to you describing every single detail to him you found fascinating—even when he had to muster up a faux exasperation every single time.
The store wasn’t big enough for you to move around a lot, but there were enough flowers to put you out of breath. Matt hummed and asked questions every once in a while, sometimes when he caught your excitement at certain flowers he would lift a finger to touch the petal gently—much to your horror—but somehow it was delicate enough not to leave any trace.
“And this one,” you gestured vaguely around. “Is carnation.”
Matt nodded slightly. “Your mom’s favorite.”
Your eyebrows shot up to your hairline. “I’m impressed,” you remarked. “You remember?”
“Of course,” Matt scoffed, somewhat looking mildly offended that you thought he didn’t. “How is she now, by the way?”
“She insists she’s okay, and she actually looks okay?” you hummed and tapped your finger against your chin. “Dad says the doctor told her she’ll be okay as long as she keeps a healthy lifestyle and has light exercise daily,” you sighed. “But a heart attack was still a huge surprise and scary, you know?”
“The offer is still on the table, you know,” Matt said.
“Matt—”
“Think about it,” he cut you off before you could begin. “It’s an ideal situation. You’d be able to visit her more often than not.”
You pulled your arm away from him. “I don’t know, Matt.”
“Remember helping people and making a better place? One client at a time?”
You frowned at him and his audacity to recite your dream—one you proudly screamed on top of your lungs in campus ground with your arms slung on his shoulder and Foggy’s—darting your eyes away from the offensive sight before you.
“It might not make a pretty number,” Matt said softly, breaking away the silence before it had a chance to settle in. “But it’s still your dream. Our dream,” he paused before adding, “Me, you, and Foggy.”
“Is this your way to say you miss me?”
Matt huffed a laugh. “Don’t get it inside your head, I have a very peaceful ten years without you.”
“So you miss me, then,” you teased.
“Ha- ha.”
You grinned at his pinched face. “It sounds so… idyllic,” you purse your lips, somewhat surprised you had chosen those exact words. Matt nodded quietly. “But it’s a very big leap to take.”
Matt’s hand fumbled in the air momentarily before he met your wrist. He squeezed it gently once he latched his fingers, a faint smile blossomed on his face. “Just remember that Nelson and Murdock would love to catch you once you take that leap.”
You glared at your phone that hadn’t stopped ringing in the past twenty minutes. You considered chucking it against the wall and spit at it while you could, the caller displayed the caller ID—your boss, unfortunately—glared at you for attempting to ignore it.
Fucking boss and his inability to understand that weekend is off-limit. Hell, didn’t you tell him your mom was sick?
Don’t get it wrong, you love your job. God, you loved it so much because it had been the only thing you always wanted—or so you thought—being an associate for a big firm had been a dream come true. You knew that being married to your job left little to no room for personal time, it wasn’t like you hate it.
But you could only take one stressor at a time.
Mom is fine. She is fine. She is downstairs, breathing, and watching her favorite soap opera.
You sank your head into your palm and let out the loudest groan of the century. The ghost of Dad’s call, almost crying—you never heard him crying in front of you before and you didn’t plan on hearing it more often—a week ago when he broke the news that Mom was rushed to the ER for a mild cardiac arrest had been embedded into your memory.
The buzzing sound finally receded after you ignored it long enough. You sighed and threw a shirt haphazardly into the suitcase laid on the floor, opened and wide waiting for you to pack things you had haphazardly assembled days before. It felt wrong to kiss your mom goodbye and make a half-hearted promise to see her on the next holiday after everything.
Your phone rang again, and you felt bile rise in your throat.
Enough is enough.
You punched the reject button in furry, couldn’t let yourself feel horrified with the bold move that you never pulled before. You immediately punched a number that you had memorized from staring at it long enough.
“Hello?” the voice answered on the fifth ring.
“Hey, Fogs. It’s me,” you let out a shaky breath. “I want to talk about Nelson and Murdock. Is the offer still on the table?”
========
Matt halted his steps when his ears caught a familiar sound—the very exact sound he hadn’t heard so often in the past ten years. He wasn’t surprised that he had grown to miss it, but he was a lot more surprised that he could still recognize your steady heartbeat all these years.
He threaded through the sea of people hastily walking on the sidewalk. The wind was harsh today and there was a sharp taste of promising downpour hanging in the air. He scrunched his nose, thorn in between hating it and loving it.
The sound of your heartbeat led him to a flower shop. He could feel his lips twitched into a smile. The more things change the more they stay the same.
A soft chime of a bell greeted him as he entered the shop—various smells of flowers immediately attacked his senses. It had been a while since he found himself stepping inside a flower shop, he never had a reason to when you were not around. He found himself missing it now that he stood right in the middle of it, a glimpse of old days where you’d drag him into one after a particularly annoying class—it was always criminal law class—and spent hours inside looking around flashed in his mind.
He felt a pair of eyes staring at him. Well, he sighed. Couldn’t blame them. It’s not every day you have a blind guy inside your shop.
“This is not a coffee shop, is it?”