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Matt knew it was a bad habit. It was one he’d picked up as a child, trying to divert his mind away from the emotional storm of his childhood. Over the years it became less of a distraction and more of a punishment. He deserved this. Deserved this pain. Because he was failing, because he couldn’t save everyone. Everyone he loved ended up hurt because of him. Why shouldn’t he bear that pain on his wrists? He deserved it.
Things had been worse recently. Foggy and Karen knew about Daredevil, but he didn’t feel any more free. If anything, he felt an even deeper guilt. Just knowing him, they were in danger, and he was selfishly letting them stay. All because at the end of the day, he didn’t want to be abandoned. Not again. He’d lived his entire life alone, outcast. Was it really so selfish to crave human connection?
Yes. Yes, it is. Keep going.
Matt felt the blood begin to drip from his arm. He drew a sharp breath in as he pulled the cold metal against his skin.
There. You deserved that.
Sinking against the cold bathroom tiles, he thought about Foggy. His best friend of so many years, the one person who hadn’t left him. There had been times when Matt had considered telling him about this bad habit, but ultimately decided it was better kept to himself. Why make him worry?
He took a deep breath. The apartment was still, and quiet. Silence broken only by his own breathing, and footsteps echoing the hallway. They’d walk right past, and the stillness would return. Except it didn’t. Knocking at his door shocked his brain into switching back on.
“Matt?” A familiar voice called out.
Shit. He isn’t supposed to see this.
Heart pounding, he frantically tried to shove the blades out of sight as the door creaked open, and tentative footsteps made their way inside. Matt pushed himself to his feet, and practically ran into his best friend turning the corner.
“Oh, Jesus!” Foggy exclaimed.
“Not quite.” Matt muttered under his breath. “Foggy. What, ah, what are you doing here?” He tried to sound casual.
“Well, I called you about a hundred times to tell you I was coming over. I just wanted to check on you. Is your phone dead or something?” The concern dripped into his voice.
“Uh, yeah. It’s dead.” They stood in an uncomfortable silence.
“So. You wanna tell me why you’re being so weird? Weirder than usual, I mean?”
“I don’t… what are you talking about?” God, Matt was trying so hard to sound normal, it had circled back to deeply strange.
“Uh, well, you’re clearly trying to stop me from walking any further inside, you haven’t made a single joke all day, and don’t even get me started on you very obviously holding your arm behind your back this entire time!” His voice become raised and high pitched toward the end.
“You think something’s wrong… because I didn’t make enough jokes?” He attempted to redirect the situation, with a forced chuckle.
“Your arm, Matt.” Foggy said sternly, stepping forwards.
“No, Fogs, wait-“ he broke off, as firm hands forced his left arm forward, showing off the results of his latest breakdown. Matt let out a shaky breath.
Foggy must be so angry. He’s going to yell at you.
The two men stood in silence for a moment. Matt awkwardly cleared his throat.
“It’s not what it looks like. I mean. I wouldn’t know.” A feeble attempt at humour. Foggy did not laugh.
“Matty. Did you… did you do this?” He practically whispered. Matt didn’t want to answer.
“We need to clean this.” Foggy’s first aid instincts were clearly kicking in, from his countless nights patching up Matt’s wounds after a fight. “Come on. Bathroom. Now.”
There didn’t seem to be any use fighting it, so he gave in and allowed Foggy to lead him back to the bathroom, sitting against the cold tiles while his best friend gathered the necessary materials.
“I’m going to bandage this, alright?” He said, softly but firmly. “And once I’m satisfied that you’re not going to bleed out, we are going to talk.”
He didn’t sound angry. Matt let out a shaky breath and nodded. He’d retrieved some bandages and cloth from Matt’s cupboard and began to carefully wipe away the drying blood. Satisfied, he started to gently wrap the bandages. Matt flinched, and softly apologised, as Foggy reached a particularly bad spot.
“Sorry, sunshine. I know it hurts.” Foggy whispered under his breath, as he neatly tucked in the end of the bandage. “But it’s all finished now.”
Matt pulled back his freshly bandaged arm, curling in on himself. What could he possibly say to make this any better?
“Thank you, Fogs. I… I’m sorry.” He managed. “You… you weren’t supposed to see me… like that.” He tilted his head downward in quiet shame.
“You don’t have to apologise to me, Matty. But I think we should talk about it. Because I know you, and I know that you just love to keep all that negativity inside, and never bother anyone about it. And I am not going to let that happen this time.”
Foggy reached out and took his hand, gently rubbing his thumb across Matt’s knuckles, bruised from nights of crime-fighting.
“It’s just a bad habit. When I was a kid, at the orphanage, it was a way to punish myself. With Stick, well, I didn’t need to do it because he’d do it for me. But after him…” Matt cleared his throat, as Foggy continued to rub circles on the back of his hand.
“Just a lot of guilt, I guess. Catholic and all that.” He tried at a smile.
“What can I do?”
“Hm? You don’t need to do anything, Fogs, it’s lovely of you to ask but really I-“
“What can I do, Matty?” He repeated insistently. “If you don’t tell me, then I’m just gonna move in and stalk you 24/7. Neither of us wants that.”
“Well, that wouldn’t be so bad.” There was a comfortable silence.
“How about I come over a little more? Dinner and a movie, like we used to do. Have a little human connection. Surely that would help, right?” His best friends voice was full of quiet hope, and determination.
Matt felt a real smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, that’d be nice. I’d like that.” Foggy mirrored his expression.
“Good. I love you Matty. Don’t want you being alone all the time.”
And God, Matt was grateful for Foggy, the kindest, purest soul he’d ever had the fortune of knowing. His best friend.