Chapter Text
Matt and food have a complicated relationship.
Even before the accident changes everything, there are some things that taste WRONG in his mouth.
Matt can’t stand soggy cereals drowning in milk or buttered toast or sandwiches soaked with tomato juice. Mashed potatoes is one of the worst things he ever has to swallow down. It makes him tear up.
His Dad notices. He makes a sandwich without tomatoes for Matt and eats the rest of the mashed potatoes.
“I’m sorry,” Matt sniffs.
“You don’t need to apologize, buddy,” his Dad says, patting his shoulder. “We all have something we don’t like. I can’t stand Brussels sprouts, remember? I had a nightmare once, where I was being hunted by a whole army of them. Awful.”
That makes Matt feel a little better.
Right after the accident, everything feels, smells, and tastes differently. It hurts to hear car doors slam and children scream. It hurts to be touched. It hurts to breathe in the smell that a dozen humans in one room manage to produce in little time.
But food is the worst. Matt can always press his hands on his ears to stifle a noise, he can recoil from touch, he can breathe through his mouth. But he can’t escape what’s inside his mouth. He can’t control what’s on his plate. Not at the orphanage.
Matt starts to dread the meals. To find his seat in the chaos around him is difficult enough. But to smell the food and know it’s going to feel horrible in his mouth is the worst thing.
Today, it’s Spaghetti. Almost every kid’s dream. But the noodles are overcooked. They are too soft. There’s also way too much salt. The sauce is cheap, so there are a lot of artificial flavor enhancers in it. Matt’s mouth burns from them. He tries. He really does, because he’s hungry, but it’s too much. He just sits there, feeling horrible.
“Matthew, why aren’t you eating your food?” A nun scolds him. A couple of other kids laugh.
Matt swallows heavily. “I can’t eat this,” he says.
“Don’t be so picky, boy. You didn’t even really try,” the nun says and he can tell she’s shaking her head.
Matt feels like crying. But he swallows the tears down. He doesn’t want to be pathetic. “It feels wrong in my mouth.” It hurts …
The nun sighs. She’s impatient. There are a lot of other kids to take care of. “Eat your food and be grateful, Matthew. A lot of people are starving out there.” She leaves.
The guilt and shame cut into Matt like a knife. He picks up his fork and tries. Matt really tries.
He misses his Dad.
“The mind controls the body,” Stick tells him. “If you want to do it, you can do it. If you want to get up again, you can. If you want to eat this food, you can eat it. It’s that simple.”
The mind controls the body.
The words become Matt’s mantra.
Whenever something hurts, he whispers them. Imprints them into his mind. The mind controls the body.
“Look at you, you’re way too skinny,” Stick scoffs, nudging Matt with his cane. “You have to eat more, Matty. The world is going to swallow you whole. Do you want to waste my time?”
“No.”
“Then get stronger and stop being pathetic. Food is a warrior’s fuel.”
The mind controls the body.
Matt teaches himself to defeat his gag reflex. Because he’s a warrior. He can do it.
The mind controls the body.
This pain means nothing.
Foggy’s love language is food.
Matt learns that right after they start to be roommates.
Foggy orders pizza and Thai. He drags Matt to a dozen different restaurants, even though they have to be careful with their money.
“This is amazing,” Foggy sighs, no matter what he eats, radiating happiness.
Matt likes Foggy. He maybe even likes him a little too much.
He definitely likes Foggy enough to be worried about destroying what they have right now. So he puts on a smile and acts like he’s enjoying the food too, no matter what is.
The mind controls the body, he thinks. He’s a warrior. He can make it through this.
It's bad. But he had worse.
Don’t be pathetic, Matt. Don’t let him see that something’s wrong with you. Don’t make it weird ... Ugh. That mouthful of curry was awful.
“Matt?” Foggy asks.
“Hm?”
“Are you okay?”
An alarm bell goes off inside Matt’s head. He swallows. “Yeah, sure. Why?”
“Because you look like you’re in pain.”
Of course. Of course, Foggy would notice. He pays attention … Always.
“It’s just … It’s a bit too spicy.” Ha. That’s not even a lie!
“Okay. But you do like it, don’t you?” Foggy asks.
“I do,” Matt says and puts his smile back on his face. Demonstratively, he shovels some of the curry into his mouth - and it’s too much. It’s just too much. It got even soggier after their little break. It feels so damn WRONG. He starts to gag and heave and he can hear Foggy say something, but all he can think is: you stupid idiot! You ruined it!
“So,” Foggy says when they’re sitting on a bench later. “It was too spicy, huh?”
He doesn’t sound put off by Matt's weird behavior. Matt hesitates. Maybe, he should just tell Foggy the truth. Maybe, Foggy is not going to react that badly. He’s seen how Matt lives and works. And he’s still here.
“I, uh, I have some issues. With food. Not only with food. But … Food is difficult,” Matt says and immediately wants to hit himself. Why is he talking like an idiot?
“Okay,” Foggy says easily. “What exactly is difficult about it?”
“Some things just feel wrong in my mouth. Soggy things. And it hurts when there are too many artificial flavor enhancers in the food. It's ... It's so weird,” Matt sighs. “I shouldn’t struggle with it.”
“Matt,” Foggy says, suddenly sounding very serious. “Why are you forcing yourself to eat all that food, when you don’t like it?”
“Like I said. I should be able to do better. It’s food. A lot of people don’t have food. And I’m whining because it feels wrong in my mouth. It isn’t right. It isn't normal,” Matt explains.
“You are supposed to enjoy food, Matt. And you can’t pull the “someone else” card. There’s always someone who got it worse, but this is your life. If you can’t eat certain things, then don’t. Hey, what about we find places that have food you can eat and enjoy? Even better. You tell me what you like, and I’m going to find a place!” Foggy sounds eager.
Matt doesn’t get it. Why should Foggy want that kind of effort? But somehow, Foggy’s words make him feel … warm. Maybe, Foggy is right. Maybe he doesn’t have to struggle like that. Maybe he should just accept that he can’t eat everything and maybe he should only eat things that feel RIGHT.
It’s difficult to allow himself that, right now. But it gets better, with Foggy’s help.
Because Foggy does find some places. And they’re really, really good.
“This is amazing,” Foggy sighs a week later, and Matt nods. “It is,” he says happily, enjoying his meal. Truly enjoying it this time.