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Matt has his good days and then he has his bad days...and on certain occasions REALLY bad days.
He's had years to train, to focus his heightened senses, and learn how to live with the constant sounds of a world that never really sleeps. When he’s not out fighting in dark alleyways, he’s usually good at blocking out the excess noise. Usually.
It hits him at times when he's most exhausted; when his control has slipped. When all he wants to do, after a day filled with long hours at the office and a long night playing vigilante, is fall back on his silk sheets and just sleep the aches and bruises away. When it happens it's like he's 9 years old all over again; he has no control.
Tonight is one of those nights. It had started so well too, a few muggers; easy to take care of, which is why the sudden onslaught of noise as he was heading back to his apartment came as such a shock.
Matt staggers, nearly falling off the building he was about to jump off of. Sirens, tires screeching against the pavement, the crack of bones breaking, television static, barking, laughing, screaming, crying, it all hits him at once in one loud chaotic thunderstorm of sound. Someone drops a glass bottle a few blocks away and the sound is like claps of thunder striking right by his ears.
His knees shake and he presses his hands over his ears, a useless effort, the blood running through the veins of his palms only adding to the noise. It takes everything he has to find his way home. The sounds attacking him every step of the way, but somehow by some miracle of God he makes it.
He's standing outside his window, his forehead pressed against the glass, when it opens. He's tired and his head is spinning so he let's himself fall forward expecting fully to crash down face first onto the floor.
But..he doesn't.
"-att." Matt has his eyes closed, it doesn't make much of a difference, he knows. But he’s scared and with that fear comes the illogical thought that if he were to open his eyes even more horrifying sounds would come to him.
"Matt? Are you okay; are you hurt?"
Foggy. Out of the depths of his own mind Matt manages to at least register that and the small amount of panic in his friend's voice.
Matt takes a shaking breath. He’s pretty sure this was his apartment. Had Foggy been waiting for him all night? Not that it was surprising if that was the case, this happened on occasion, when Foggy got especially nervous about his well being.
Foggy is holding him close now but Matt doesn't remember him moving.
“Don't cry Matty. You're safe now.” Crying? So that's why he could smell salt in the air. Foggy swipes the pad of his thumb under his eyes, trying to dry the tears Matt hadn't realized he'd been spilling.
"Matt, I'm gonna move us to the bed, okay? Everything is gonna be fine. I promise." There was no lie. But then again, Foggy never lied, not when it counted. Matt nodded, or at least he tries too but he notices his hands are still clamped over his ears. Slowly, he lowers his hands only to grip onto the other's shirt as a way to ground himself.
"Just focus on me Matty." And he does. The next few minutes (hours?) Matt only feels Foggy’s fingers brush through his hair soothingly, only hears Foggy's heartbeat, strong and steady, only smells Foggy's familiar scent, a hint of the blueberry bagel he must have eaten while he waited for Matt to return.The pounding in his ears slows down and the sound of his own blood rushing through his veins dulls enough that he could ignore it if he chose to.
Somehow he ends up in his bed, armor taken off so he's in his boxers and a blanket pulled over his body and shoulders. Foggy was still there beside him a stream of comforting words whispered to him and only him. He didn’t need to actually listen to what was being said, it was enough to simply hear Foggy's voice.
"Foggy." Matt finally manages to croak out. His throat is raw as if he'd been yelling all night and he thinks he tastes some traces of blood.
"Hey buddy, how are you feeling?" Foggy asks. "You had me worried there for a sec." Matt opens his eyes and wishes, no he prays, with everything he has that he could see Foggy in this moment. So he could see his best friend, see the kindness and love he knew was always present on Foggy's face. He was always there for him and Matt was forever grateful. Foggy holds him tightly and presses their foreheads together as he waits for Matt to answer.
"I'm...better." He struggles. "The sounds, you know? It get's too loud sometimes." His words get quieter and taper off at the end that he thinks that Foggy might not have heard him or if he even understood.
“A bad day.” It wasn’t a question but Matt nodded anyways.
“Yeah, you could say that. A very bad day.”
“Sleep then. Tomorrow will be better.”
“Will you stay with me tonight?” Matt whispers, his mind struggling to stay awake. "Just in case…”
“I ain't leaving buddy. Don’t you worry.”
And Matt wasn’t worried. The city was still awake, the sounds hadn’t gone away. But, it wasn’t as painful; Foggy was here, and nothing else was as important as that.
He listens to Foggy’s heartbeat. Matt waits until he's fallen asleep first before letting the slow and steady thumping of Foggy's heart lull him into much needed sleep.