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“Incoming call: Karen… Incoming call: Karen, Incom—”
Matt sat up briskly, hands darting around for his phone. Besides him, Heather turned around grumbling softly in her sleep.
Karen, he thought as he got up, stumbling and nearly falling over the sheets, Karen is calling.
Matt could only hear steady heartbeats and breathing. His neighbours were sleeping. Dawn hadn’t cracked yet. The phone still ringing in his hand, he closed the bedroom door, trying and failing to be quiet, before answering.
“Karen? Are you okay? Is everything alright?” he asked worriedly.
“…”
Matt could hear her shallow breathing on the other side of the line, but no answer.
It was only a few seconds, but he started panicking, picking at his nails and fingers, his mind reeling with the worst-case scenarios.
What if she had been kidnapped? Maybe she was…
“Yes, um… hey Matt…” that stopped him dead in his tracks. She wasn’t held hostage somewhere on the West coast, she was just hesitating.
“Hey Karen… did… did you mean to call me?” The mere thought of her calling him by mistake while he had been waiting to hear from her every day was devastating. Their relationship was devastating. Still, he knew he was to blame. He drove her away.
“Yes, I need to talk to you.”
He sat down on his couch, his left hand gripping his phone tightly.
“Yeah of course, I’m listening,”
“It’s best if we don’t do this over the phone.”
If anyone had told Matt a few hours ago that he was about to get a phone call from Karen, whom he hadn’t heard from for months, and that she’d want to meet with him, he wouldn’t have believed it. He still didn’t.
Trying not to appear too taken aback so she wouldn’t think to reconsider, he quickly agreed.
“Yeah… I mean, when are you coming to New York?”
“No— I,” he cut her off, feeling antsy.
“Or I could come to San Francisco for a couple of days, I wouldn’t mind.”
He could hear her stutter over the line.
“Only if you want, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable…”
“No it’s not that Matt, it's– that’s just not necessary. I'm kinda already here.”
He’d been so focused on her voice, so surprised to hear from her, that the world had faded around him. It took hearing that one sentence to have his senses tuning back in.
Taking in all of the sounds, the laughs, the cries, the screams, even the smells… but amongst all of the shit that this city projected, there . He heard it.
Her heartbeat.
The soft consistent sound he’d become so used to. That thumping he’d taken for granted and had deeply missed for the last year.
“You really are here,” he breathed out incredulously.
Karen was back. And she wanted to talk with him.
“Yeah,” she chuckled. Somehow, she seemed to be just as surprised as he was.
“Alright, I’m coming down, don’t move, just give me one minute to get dressed”
“Yeah no problem, take your–”
“Matt?”
Heather.
Still a bit shaken from hearing from Karen, he’d forgotten about her. Just that thought made him visibly wince, apparently concerning her even more.
He lifted one hand up indicating his phone, and Heather waited for him to finish his call.
“I’ll be right outside” Matt said, waiting for Karen’s little “okay” as a confirmation before reluctantly hanging up.
“What do you mean you’ll be right outside? Is everything okay?”
Matt’s brain was fussy. He put his hands on his temples, searching for a little bit of relief. Of course, it didn’t work. He could feel Heather’s pointed stare on him.
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he went back into his bedroom looking for his glasses.
Putting them on, he thought of the best way to deal with the situation. He needed to appease Heather and not worry her any further.
Then, he needed to get to Karen. Quickly.
Speeding towards his closet, he let his hands feel around the tags, looking for a sweatshirt warm enough. Spring was around the corner, but it was still cold during the night.
“Matt? Where are you going?” Nearly five months into their relationship, Heather had gotten used to Matt’s mysterious behaviour and his closed off attitude. It didn’t mean she liked it.
She waited for an answer, leaning on the doorframe.
Matt was now sitting on the bed, pajamas traded for sweatpants. He opened his mouth, trying to find the words, as he was putting his socks on.
“There’s someone I need to meet, you go back to sleep, it's fine. I won’t be long.”
He hated how relieved he felt when she didn’t say anything and turned around, leaving the room. He knew his behaviour was bound to raise questions; if Heather was going out dead into the night and not even telling him where or with whom, he’d be worried and curious. He just wasn’t sure he could give her the answers she wanted and deserved.
He reached down into the drawer of his bedside table, retrieving the two items he’d been carrying every day with him for the last few months. Fingers delicately going over the braille, he kissed Foggy’s funeral card, saying a quick prayer, before tucking it in his jacket’s inner pocket. The horn was as usual going directly in its right one.
He didn’t go anywhere without them, and tonight wasn’t going to be an exception. In it’s own fucked up way, Matt thought it could mean Foggy would be with them again.
He went back into the living room. Heather was sitting on a chair, legs crossed. He could feel the frustration radiating from her, and he didn’t even need his sharp senses.
On the table in front of her, Matt could feel his phone on the table. He didn’t lock it.
“Karen, huh? So she’s back from San Francisco?”
She wasn’t really asking. She knew he was going to meet her. She just wanted to try one last time, to give him the opportunity to share a part of himself. To prove her that their relationship was worth fighting for. And once again, he didn’t.
“How do you know where she was staying? I never told you that.”
He’d never opened up about Karen to her. It would just make him face some truths, and come to realisations he didn’t want to. He wasn’t ready and he probably never would.
“No, you’re right, you never told me.”
Quietly, she added, “You never tell me anything.”
“Look—”
“Kirsten told me.”
Matt rolled his eyes, “Of course she did.” He needed to have a serious conversation with her. He was thankful for the change of topic, though. He knew, as they both did, that their relationship wasn’t going to last much longer.
He felt bad. Heather was a good woman, kind. Maybe in another lifetime, they could’ve had something real, but he knew it wasn’t this one. From the beginning he’d always been halfway out.
It had hurt her.
And she’d tried. Bless her; she had given him time. She had tried to approach those discussions in almost every way possible to make him comfortable.
In the end, it had all boiled down to what he’d said to her a few days ago. His current life felt fake . The fancy office, not being Daredevil, pretending to believe in the system to fix everything when he could hear, every night, its limitations.
Heather was an unfortunate bystander of that, and he needed to set it right. He needed to break up with her.
Selfishly, a part of him didn’t want to. She was the only thing close to “normal” he had. It would also mean he’d be alone. Again.
“Well yeah, it’s her I’m meeting” he pocketed his keys right next to the horn, and put on his shoes.
“She just landed, I think, and she needs help with something.”
Standing up, he reached around. Heather had gotten up, and handed him his cane.
“Look, you can go back to sleep, don't worry about me, I just— she called me.” That was the crux of it. Karen had called and for whatever reason, she needed to see him, so he was going. No questions asked.
“I need to go see her.”
Heather stayed quiet. Her heartbeat was steady. Still, Matt could tell she wasn’t happy with her boyfriend meeting another woman in the middle of the night. She was looking at Matt as though that would help her understand his complicated mind. It didn’t.
“Grief can have its toll on friendships”, she said, and didn’t he know that… “I’m glad you’re able to try to make amends.”
There it was again. The nice, logical and well-adjusted Heather. Too adjusted for him.
“Thanks” he murmured, giving her forearm a little squeeze. He forced a brief smile on his face, before he opened the door and left.
“Even if it’s at 2:47 in the goddamn night, I guess.”
He heard her, but he didn’t care. He was listening to Karen’s heartbeat down his building.
His own was slowly picking up.
The warehouse was empty except for them.
It was an abandoned building. Matt could hear Karen’s exhale echoing because of how big it was. It was also really dirty. Some kind of explosion had happened in the area. The walls were compromised, and Matt could tell some of them only had a few days left before collapsing, but the ground had been the main victim. It was just pieces of rocks, muddled with dirt everywhere. The fact that the roof was leaking didn’t help the poor state of their location.
Outside, Matt could hear the city. His city.
He wasn’t focusing on anything in particular. He just let his ears roam through the streets.
On the ground, Matt and Karen were sitting quietly, propped up against a wall, close to each other. The silence was deafening.
He could feel Karen was a little jittery. She was waiting for him to say something, anything.
“I just don’t understand," Matt finally said. His voice was rough.
“Why…” he was stuttering, trying to make sense of something that was the opposite of logic and common sense.
It was faith . He had to trust Karen. Trust his ears that her heartbeat was steady, that she wasn’t lying.
Could she have been lied to?
Matt had never had an issue with trusting Karen. Beautiful, intelligent, smart and loyal, Karen.
Even years ago, when she didn’t know about Daredevil, it had never been about not being able to trust her. He’d been scared. Scared of revealing himself to her. Scared of what it would mean for their relationship. Scared that she would leave him.
Looking at the state of their relationship now, he wanted to laugh.
Right now, he didn’t want to trust her. He didn’t want to hope just to be let down again.
“Why? Why did you not tell me anything? Did you not trust me?”
“This isn’t about lack of trust, Matt!” She seemed almost surprised at his words.
“Matt, you have to know that you’re probably the one person I trust most in this world” she reassured him with wide eyes.
“But…? It’s okay, I can tell there’s a ‘but’ coming.”
Karen was a bit shaken and took a second before breathing out. “It’s not about me…”
“What do you—” He didn’t have time to ask her what she meant by that. He wanted to say that he didn’t understand, but she had already blurted out the truth.
“She has my father… She threatened me with him when she realised I knew the truth. Said if I told you, there’d be consequences.”
Matt immediately stilled. The air seemed to have left the room. He could taste the salty tears welling up in her eyes, and her breaths slowly becoming heavier.
She was scared.
Vanessa Fisk had threatened Karen’s dad.
“Would you’ve stayed put?” she asked in a whisper. He wasn’t sure that without his senses he would’ve heard her.
“I would’ve helped you and him. I wouldn’t have let her hang this over you… I…”
He hadn’t even finished his first sentence when he heard her breath catch.
There. That was the problem.
Horrified, he suddenly realised what scared her. “I never would’ve put your father in danger, Karen… you know that right?”
She had to know. “You have to know that I would never—”
“I know you wouldn’t, not willingly, but Matt—”, he heard her shifting and slowly moving the tiniest bit closer.
It wasn’t enough. He needed more.
“—it’s Foggy we’re talking about.”
There it was again. Karen had no problem saying his name. Since his death, Matt had only uttered it once, in Frank’s presence.
And now… after all this time, he had to believe that… He couldn’t— he didn’t.
And yet, he trusted Karen. He believed her.
“You weren’t grieving properly, I couldn’t get through you and you know I tried.”
He knew. She’d tried. Multiple times. And what did he do? He’d pushed her away.
“You tried to…” she didn’t finish her sentence. She wasn’t sure how he would react if she mentioned what happened on that rooftop. How he’d try to break his one and only killing rule.
She hated it. Having to walk on eggshells around him.
They had stopped putting an act in front of each other years ago. Since their conversation in the church, where they had, for the first time, truly, opened up to one another, their relationship had forever changed. For the better. Karen didn’t know of another human on this earth that knew her as much and as well as Matt did.
They’d become used to it. Baring each of their darkest and deepest secrets and accepting the other for it, but now it seemed they were back on square one.
And all of that because of Vanessa Fisk. Just thinking about her filled Karen with an unimaginable amount of rage. She had caused that. She had broken their family.
And Karen had tried. She’d stayed even when Matt wanted to be alone, because she knew him. He needed someone. And Foggy‘s death was the only thing that could take him back to his old habits.
But she’d needed someone too.
So she’d fled for San Francisco. Two weeks. She had a return ticket ready as well.
And then…
And then she had found out the truth, and had to stay away.
Silence had settled once more.
Matt was unresponsive, and Karen was taken back to those few weeks where they were in the same situation; how she’d tried to break him out of his unreactive state.
“You weren’t even talking to me. I lost Foggy and then I lost you.” Her voice was breaking. “In a different way maybe, but you were gone Matt. Alive, but gone nonetheless.”
Matt’s head lowered in shame. He took off his glasses and pressed the palms of his hands in his eyes, trying to stop the tears at bay from running down his face.
And maybe, the thing about masks that Heather was talking about made sense. Because in front of Karen, and without his glasses, Matt felt bare. Being perceived was scary, and Karen had always been the best at doing so.
He was ashamed. Of all people, Karen was the one who’d always stood by him and he knew he shouldn’t have kept her at arms' way.
He knew her going to San Francisco meant he’d fucked up. Still, he thought he would have the time to make it right when she’d come back.
Except she never did. He took her for granted. He only realised that too late. When he tried to apologize or to make amends, drunk dials, long speeches; all went straight to voicemail.
It was too late .
Sniffling, he lowered his hands, and directed his gaze to where Karen was. After all he did, he owed her that. Honesty.
Karen didn’t react outwardly. She figured Matt could hear her heart starting to beat faster, her breath catching when she saw his eyes for the first time since that fateful night at the bar.
Still, she didn’t want to break the moment. She knew what Matt was trying to do, how, despite everything, he was trying to connect with her again.
That’s what made Matt, Matt. In the end, he tried. Where many would’ve given up, he didn’t, he was always trying.
Trying to be better for himself, and for others.
It made her want to cry, so she did.
After holding them back since they’d met a little earlier, the first teardrop rolled down her cheeks.
They were both trying. It would be okay. They would be okay.
“Everything will be okay in the end and if it’s not, then it’s not the end.”
Father Lantom’s words had stuck with her. Karen fingers subtly rubbed her collarbone, where the first part of the quote laid forever, tattooed, against her skin.
Matt seemed to have caught her movement, because he offered her the tiniest teary smile.
“You know,” Karen’s hands were shaking, and Matt resisted the urge to take them in his, unable to face her rejection.
“He didn’t understand when I tried to explain it to him.” At Matt’s confused face, she added, “My dad… he’s so goddamn stubborn and he didn’t want me to stay in Vermont, so that’s why I went back to San Francisco. There was no one waiting for me in Vermont either.”
“And you know even after his shitty behaviour… he’s still my dad, and I love him.” She took a few seconds exhaling loudly, before adding more quietly “And I fucking hate myself for it.”
For a split second, he closed his eyes, a memory of Stick passing through his mind. He remembered telling her about Stick, how she’d cried because it was a little too similar to the situation with her dad.
Each time they’d hugged since that night, it was a little tighter. A promise that they wouldn’t abandon each other.
“And I couldn’t take any risks, I couldn’t—”, she choked on her sobs. “I’m sorry.”
Matt straightened up quickly.
“No—” he said firmly. Too firmly, apparently, because Karen flinched.
He took one big breath before quietly replying “No, you shouldn’t apologize, it’s me who… I’m sorry, Karen.”
He could feel her shaking her head, disagreeing, but he continued anyway.
“You were right, I would’ve done— I would do anything for you and Foggy. But knowing that he’s with… with them”, his knuckles were becoming white.
“So no… probably not, I wouldn’t have stayed put.”
He could feel the tears streaming down her face, and her shaky breaths.
Relief.
She was relieved she’d made the right decision.
“You know…” she started, picking at her nails. “I cried and I drank… a lot,” she confessed.
Matt knew her relationship with alcohol wasn’t one of the healthiest, and he cursed himself for not being there when she needed someone, when she needed him .
“And I lost sleep over it because it broke my heart leaving you, and staying away was even harder, I couldn’t— I wanted you to know, but I couldn’t, I didn’t know how… please forgive me. I’m so sorry, Matt.”
“No… I told you, you shouldn’t apologize, I understand.”
Once again he hated the distance he’d put between them. He wanted to take her hand in his. That was their thing. He couldn’t see her, so he’d found other ways to connect. Holding her hand, putting his hand on her back, grazing her cheek.
Hands always lingering a little too long.
“Hey, listen to me. I get it, really.”
Karen’s blue eyes were staring at him. He could tell she didn’t believe him.
“I don't blame you Karen, I'm just shocked and confused by”, he lifted his arm, gesturing to the warehouse around them, and the road, where he could hear a car steadily driving towards them, “everything.”
He took a deep breath.
“If…”, and oh didn’t that hurt , “If I ever had the chance, If it ever came down to protecting my dad,” said Matt, “I would’ve done the same, you hear me? Exactly the same.”
She stayed silent for a while; the guilt was eating at her. She knew she’d done the best she could. She knew she’d done the best anyone could ever do in that situation. Still, life wasn’t fair, and she wished it could’ve been handled differently.
“But it’s not, though, it’s not the same. I pushed you away, I didn’t answer—”
“I pushed you first,” Matt argued.
“For someone who doesn’t even want anything to do with me—”
“He’s your father, Karen, of course you feel that way. No matter what, you love him.”
I love you , Karen thought.
Karen didn’t have to think of a more appropriate response because Matt’s head was adorably tilted and she knew what that meant.
The car parked in the distance confirmed it.
She felt winded. Her brother, Foggy , was finally back.
Matt couldn’t process anything.
There it was. He’d just heard it.
For all of his conversation with Karen, he’d understood, logically, what she’d said.
Foggy was alive.
But as the car parked, and he heard the doors open, he suddenly felt faint. Foggy… his Foggy was alive?
It wasn’t real— It couldn’t be.
And yet, here he was.
For the first time in a very long time, Matt cursed his blindness. The sound of his heartbeat wasn’t enough. He needed to see it for himself . He needed to be sure. They had apparently failed him once, so nothing prevented his senses from failing him again. Maybe this was just some cruel joke.
Maybe it was just a dream? He’d had many of those— well not really dreams, more like nightmares. Foggy was alive, and the next second he wasn’t.
His chest was heaving, he needed to know.
He leaned his head back aggressively against the wall. He needed to be grounded, or he was going to lose it. He was already starting to lose it.
He heard them talking. No— he could hear her talking, Foggy wasn’t saying anything.
Next to him, Karen was quietly sobbing, she could see them, he figured.
“Goodbye, Mister Nelson”
It really was her. Vanessa Fisk . She’d planned everything. She took Foggy away, she made them believe he was dead, and now she was leaving.
Just like that.
A door closed in the distance and soon the car drove away.
Karen instantly got onto her feet. “Foggy!” she cried. The footsteps were so loud in the quiet of their surroundings.
Karen was running towards him… Foggy.
She nearly jumped on him and took them to the ground. And Foggy… Foggy was laughing . As much as he could while he cried.
Foggy was a happy person. He’d always been positive and fun to be around. That meant that Matt had heard him laugh an immeasurable amount of time since they’d met. He couldn’t remember each laugh he heard, but he swore that the tiny chuckles he’d just released because of Karen was the most beautiful one he’d ever heard.
She was hugging him tightly, and Foggy was hugging her back just as tight, both crying.
Matt’s ears were hot, his head was hurting. He was still on the ground trying to process everything that happened in the last hour or so.
The wall behind him wasn’t enough, he placed his hands straight into the dirt and the rocks and let the spikes hurt his hands. It allowed him to remember it was real.
He listened to the few words his ears could make out. It was Karen.
“So sorry,”
“They wouldn’t let me see you.”
“My dad–”
“He didn’t know,”
“I should’ve told him.”
“I missed you,”
And suddenly, as if it was the most normal thing ever, as if it didn’t mean that Matt’s world had just stopped, he heard his voice. “It’s okay Karen. We’ll be okay.”
Foggy’s voice.
His unique timbre. That soft voice that had described thousands of movies during college, and that kept on doing so even after graduating.
That voice that he heard in court, full of passion, to convince a jury.
The voice that he’d heard in their office, as he was rumbling over his opening statements late hours into the night.
The voice he’d heard in his apartment, angry, raised at him.
The voice he’d heard at Josie’s, full of mischief and giggles.
The voice he’d heard at Columbia, soft and comforting.
Loving.
He got up, and wiped his hands aggressively against his sweatpants. He needed them to be clean. He couldn’t hurt him. He couldn’t dirty him.
He felt Karen pull away from Foggy to give them space, but thankfully she still stayed close.
Foggy’s mouth opened but he closed it as soon as he felt Matt’s hands on him.
Matt didn’t say anything. He just touched his face, his own crumbling as he cried.
Foggy didn’t say anything. He just looked into the hazel eyes he hadn’t seen in over a year and released a breath.
Matt traced Foggy's forehead, and he cried. His fingers delicately lowered to his brows, over his eyes that slowly closed at the touch and re-opened as soon as he’d moved on.
Matt wasn’t the only one needing reassurance. Foggy had always known Matt didn't have an enormous support system. What Vanessa Fisk could do to him was a secondary worry to what Matt could do to himself.
But no, Matt was alive . Matt was alive, and he was in front of him.
He was touching his wrinkles, and Foggy could feel the wet tears streaming down his face, just as they were rolling down Matt’s.
Karen was crying, Matt figured, still keeping an ear on her. And Foggy might’ve been talking, he could feel the vibrations and his mouth moving.
But Matt didn’t care.
He was focused. Nothing had ever been as important as this moment was. He needed to know.
He touched his cheeks, and his fingers lightly pressed over Foggy’s mouth.
He could feel the word forming, as much as he heard it.
“ Matty ”
It was all it took. Suddenly, Matt broke down in more audible ugly sobs and fell on the floor, bringing Foggy awkwardly with him.
“It’s okay Matt… it’s okay.”
His head was in the crook of Foggy’s neck. He couldn’t be any closer.
They stayed like that for a while; Matt nuzzling his neck, and Foggy comforting him.
Foggy was still murmuring soft words right in his ears when Matt decided to lean back. His hands continued their discovery.
His fingers probed around his head and then tangled in his long hair. Apparently a year away in witness protection made him rethink hairstyle choices.
He liked it. He’d always preferred when Foggy’s hair was longer. He remembered the playful argument they’d had when he had cut his hair. Matt had pouted and put on a show as a joke. Internally, he was actually pretty sad, but Foggy was happy, so he didn’t really mind.
Then he dragged them down to Foggy’s torso, finally resting over where the scar was.
Foggy was wearing a button down, and Matt figured he should’ve at least pretended to care about popping a few buttons open, but the truth was that he didn’t.
If Foggy’s teary chuckle was anything to go by, he didn’t either. Instead, he took Matt’s hand and rested it over the tender flesh.
He shivered a little as Matt dragged his fingertips along the scars.
It was beautiful.
Matt had known what scars looked like, what scars felt like, since he was a kid. Whether on his dad, the other regulars at Fogwell’s, and later on him, he’d seen more scars than he or anyone could count.
None of them were as pretty as Foggy’s. Whoever had sewed him back up had pulled the skin in all directions. They probably didn’t care about the end result. And yet, under his fingers, it felt like lightning strikes.
Few small lines were scattered across the skin, all coming from where the bullet had hit. They were going in all different directions, separating themselves in the middle to create new paths.
It was beautiful.
Matt felt it right there under his fingers, before he decided to readjust his position. He leaned back in and curled up against Foggy. His head resting on his torso, and his ears right on his heart.
thump. thump. thump.
How much time had passed, he couldn’t tell. But when the sobs started to subside, Matt realised that Karen was also hugging Foggy, leaning slightly away from him, careful not to touch Matt.
Without thinking twice, he turned around, grabbed her arms, and pulled her properly into the hug, praying she wouldn’t pull away.
He had missed her. He wished he’d been right there with her and known about Foggy being alive, but one thing he’d come to understand in his life was that things always happened for a reason.
It was an awkward position. Their limbs hurt, but they had never felt happier.
Matt had never felt more happy. He was finally at peace. He was surrounded by the people he loved, his... Karen, and his best friend, his partner of all time. Foggy .
He softly curled away from Karen, still holding Foggy with one hand, to take his cross.
Karen wasn’t ashamed to admit that she held onto Matt tighter when she felt him pull away, but relaxed instantly when she saw him praying.
Karen wasn’t religious, she didn’t believe in God. But she always found faith beautiful. Having that trust and that devotion, she even envied it at times.
At that moment, nothing was more beautiful than Matt, head bowed down, crying over his necklace, thanking God. It was muffled, the sounds were barely making any sense.
Foggy and Karen looked at each other smiling softly. The only thing they could make out was the quiet “thank you” he repeated, becoming each time a little louder and interrupted by the sobs coming back louder each time.
After a while, he dropped his cross, signed over his heart, and took back Karen’s hands. Holding on tightly, he stilled when he felt her squeeze his hand. He directed his face toward hers, and squeezed back.
They’d be okay. He believed that. He could feel Foggy's gaze on him, and he turned his head, doing his best to meet his eye.
“You… you asshole, I’m never leaving you, not again” They were all close enough that he could let his forehead rest between the three of them.
Foggy’s hand came to rest on the back of his neck, slowly rubbing it. He used to do that to calm him down back in college. Finals were stressful, and Matt had always been worse at regulating.
“Are you okay?”
“Of course I am,” answered Matt quickly. And how could he not be? “You’re here… alive”
But Foggy saw right through his bullshit. Granted, it wasn’t hard considering he was still crying a little.
“It’s okay Matt,” he said softly, “you’re not okay, I don’t think any of us really are, but we will be.”
“It’s just... God… I missed you, Foggy.”
“I’m sorry… It’s my fault for not telling you about Benny” said Foggy, lifting his hand up, stopping both Matt and Karen who’d begun interrupting him.
“I should’ve told you about him, and that’s on me.”
“Bullshit!” Matt protested, indignantly. He was beside himself. “So what? You didn’t tell us about him, but that doesn’t mean you get to be taken from us for more than a year!”
“No, but—”
“There’s no “but” Foggy! He’s right!” Karen agreed vehemently, sharing Matt’s frustration.
Foggy didn’t say anything, just looking at them, taking them in. “I fucking missed both of you ganging up on me.” He said, chuckling a little.
“Look, I’m here and I’m not leaving.”
“You better not,” said Karen with a sad smile.
“No more lies between us?” proposed Foggy.
Matt nearly died when he felt Foggy’s fist suspended in the air.
“None.” answered Matt, the biggest grin adorning his face, as he bumped his fist with Foggy’s.
“None.” echoed Karen. She cupped both of their cheeks, her thumb slowly rubbing them. If Matt leaned in the tiniest bit, no one said anything.
She kissed both of their foreheads. Her family was finally back.
“Come on,” she said, mentioning to them to get up “Let’s get up and go home.”
“I already am.” said Foggy, and Matt couldn't agree more.