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Matt stood over his apartment. Broken and bruised and blood crusting over his cuts. There was someone here. He could hear ther heart beat.
“Foggy.?”
He knew it was foggy. Day old coffee that Matt never kept in his apartment. as he pulled off the mask and approached him. Foggy said nothing.
“You said you were done with the suit.” Foggy stared at him, their eyes never once catching.
“Look foggy I had to- there was this- you wouldn’t understand.” Matt gave up trying as he pulled off the suit and tucked it back into its box.
“Help me! Help me understand” Foggy voice was exasperated and annoyed, edging on a laugh.
“I have to go out. If I don’t people are hurt.” Matt stated, angling his head towards Foggy but keeping his body facing the wall.
“You’ve mentioned.” Foggy spoke sarcastically. “Let some other vigilante fight it! Or the police!”
Matt tsked. “Nope. police can’t get there fast enough. An’ I have the best hearing in the city.” He felt like he was starting a case for himself.
“This city has had enough of vigilantes! Matt!” Foggy’s voice rose, Matt could feel the stress coming off the man in waves.
Matt shut the case and pushed it back into the closet. Head turned blankly at the cabinet.
He was going to die in this suit. Foggy said it himself. There was no problem with that for Matt. In his eyes, this was the way it should be.
Matt would fight some bad guy, they would knock him down, and they would make sure that he couldn’t get back up. He would try, but ultimately, give in to the pain and crumble. Bleed out on a rooftop or in a warehouse on the coast.
But those thoughts were saved for when he was alone. Not when he was being examined by his best friend.
“I’m sorry foggy.” Matt returned to his couch to face foggy vaguely.
“Me too.” Bitterness laced the blonde man’s words. Matt didn’t need to have heightened senses to hear that.
“Matt I… I don’t want you to die in that suit.” Foggy’s jaw tightened as he let go of his held breath before leaning back onto the couch. “You say you need to be in the suit but what are you really doing out there?! Crime is down after we put Fisk away. So what big crime bosses are you fighting? Is it ninjas? Wizards?”
Matt swallowed. He couldn’t say that he needed to draw blood every once in a while to quench the thirst for pain he so desperately craved. That he let blades and kicks connect with his skin and bone hoping to make something hurt. It never was enough, therefore, he needed to go out. He didn’t want to have some unexplainable, neat, thin cuts on his forearms or legs or hips or wherever he decided to do it. If he could have a reason for his split lip or gash on his arms and face then he’d go out every chance he got.
“Hello? Earth to matt Murdock!” Foggy tapped his friend on the shoulder. “Why?”
“To help people.” Matt answered robotically.
“Bhullshit.” Foggy scoffed. “Let me guess Daredevil wants to die in that suit and forget allll about Matt Murdock and his friends. Ignore their calls and shut everyone out so it’s easier to disappear.”
Matt’s lips drew into a thin line, raking a hand in his hair. “Me? Hah- I don’t plan to die in the suit.”
Liar
It was only daredevil who wanted pain. Daredevil wasn’t some alter ego, as simple as Foggy put it, it was an extension of himself.
The parts of him he could not control. The animalistic rage that came with being who he was. Beating on others was a good way to relieve the pounding in his head when his blood ran hot. Sometimes while out he’d catch himself relentlessly punching an unconscious body.
“Matt.” Foggy harshness dropped and sounded more sincere. “Are you planning to die in the suit?”
Matt’s heart rate rose, he heard Foggy’s heart speed up each second he didn’t fervently answer no. He couldn’t bring himself to lie this time.
“Yeah.” Matt’s voice came out as more airy than he wanted.
Foggy’s heart rate quickened, fear now emanating from him.
Neither of them said anything. What could you say.
“Matty.. do you… want to kill yourself?” Foggy’s voice was above a whisper, disbelief etching its way onto the lines of his face.
Matt never asked the question to himself. It was more of a fact that he would kill himself eventually. Much like the fact the sky was blue and he could not see. He would die in the suit. One day or another he would take one to many blows to the head and it would be over. Dead in the suit he once loved.
The suit had grown stained with blood. It grown into something else. He needed blood, he was too full of himself to draw it from his own body. It had to be someone else’s blood on his knuckles. Seeping into his pores.
He thought about it sometimes, not as daredevil, but himself. He could drain his own blood. Take a razor from his bathroom and make thin lines on his legs.
Matt hadn’t noticed that foggy had gotten up to hug him. He didn’t feel like returning the gesture, but foggy continued to hold onto him.
“I- I foggy im alright.” He half heartedly laughed.
“Jesus matt, shut up.” Foggy rested his head on Matt’s shoulder, his shoulder was wet and warm. He could taste the salt in the air from his tears. “Don’t tell me that you’re alright matt. You’re going out in the suit to get yourself killed. I’m worried about you man.”
Matt said nothing again and stared vaguely at the distance.
Maybe God could show him the way now. Matt thought disdainfully. Show him the way of navigating wanting to end his life on a rooftop or in a warehouse.
After a while foggy let go, sitting on the couch next to Matt.
“Do you wanna..”
“Not a chance.” Matt stared forward, he wouldn’t dare talk about any one this. This was for him to take to his grave.
“I will stay out of the suit for a while.” Matt mumbled and posed it like a solution to Foggy’s recent findings. “If that makes it any better.”
“Wha-? No matt! It doesn’t make it better! The issue isn’t the suit, the issue is you! You using the suit to hurt yourself is the issue! And- and I’ve gotten so used to seeing you with all these cuts and bruises I figured- well k figured you got them for a good cause! Fighting the good fight! But…” foggy began to speak so triumphant it stung, his voice lost hope quickly after as he tried to think about it more.
“I’m sorry Foggy.” Matt looked like a wounded puppy, whether he wanted to or not.
“I.. don’t know how to help you matty.” Foggy hung his head and tried to think for a moment.
After minutes of silence, foggy stood and walked over to where matt kept his suit. Pulling it out of the closet and holding it firmly in his hands.
“I’m taking this home.” Foggy declared, matt jumped up, swiftly making his way to the case and wrapping his hands on the case.
“Don’t- do this foggy. Please. I- I dont- I need that suit.” Matt begged, foggy hated that wounded doe look matt always managed to carry when he wasn’t smiling.
“It’s for your own good!” He argued, gripping the case tighter as he felt matt yank. This was not a tug of war he could win.
“I will be safer with the suit! It keeps me alive despite everything. I’ve survived bullets to the head thanks to that suit!” Matt grit his teeth, he wasn’t trying to hard to get the case unless he had to.
Foggy let go, readjusting himself before shouting in frustration.
“You know what! fine. Kill yourself in that suit. See if I give a damn.” Foggy shouted as he stormed to the door. “When they identify your body. don’t call me!”
Matt stood, case in hand. Was the suit… *that* important to him? More important than Foggy? More important than himself?
He didn’t have time to answer that question as far across town he heard gunshots. Glancing at the case one more time.
“What’s one more.?”