Work Text:
As Foggy traveled up the stairs to Matt’s apartment, he fumbled in the pocket of his messenger bag to grab the spare key Matt gave him. Foggy sighed as he grabbed the key and arrived at Matt’s door. According to Matt, he left his wallet at his apartment, and like a good friend, Foggy Nelson was willing to come to the rescue and grab it for him. Foggy hoped that Matt was being honest with him, and this wasn’t some clever excuse to ditch work and get himself needlessly hurt in broad daylight.
Foggy unlocked the door. At least he offered to go back to the apartment instead. If Matt truly wanted to use this as a ruse, he’d have to come back to the apartment and suit up, right? As Foggy looked around to find Matt’s wallet, he wondered where Matt kept that dreaded suit anyway. He sighed and shook his head. Off-topic. All he needed to do was grab Matt’s wallet, go back to the office, and pray that Matt was still working on their case and still in one piece. Foggy spotted a piece of black leather laying on the kitchen counter and grabbed it. He quickly pocketed it in his messenger bag and glanced around the room.
The large glass windows illuminated the apartment, letting light from the outside flood the room, natural and unnatural. As he looked at the apartment’s view of the city, Foggy’s mind wandered yet again to the topic of Daredevil. He still couldn’t fully wrap his head around the fact that his best friend was the self-proclaimed protector of Hell’s Kitchen, and he wasn’t aware of that for months, maybe even years. Foggy sighed. He wanted to know where that stupid suit was kept and destroy it once and for all. Foggy shook his head in disapproval of his own thoughts. Matt didn’t work like that, Matt was stubborn. It was something Foggy admired about him, when he wasn’t being a complete idiot of course. Matt would get a new suit somehow, or continue to fight crime in that old black cloth he used to wear. Fine, Foggy decided not to destroy it, but curiosity still seeped in. He at least wanted to know where it was kept.
Carefully, Foggy stepped into Matt’s bedroom. Matt had allowed him to sleep in here on occasion and Foggy knew the room well, but he still felt disturbed. Foggy was intruding and guilt quickly crept in. He just wanted to check one closet, see if the suit could possibly be in there, and leave. Opening the closet, Foggy saw all of Matt’s civilian wear hanging on the metal bar in his closet. Nothing suspicious at all, and nothing pointing to the blind lawyer secretly being the devil of Hell’s Kitchen. Foggy looked down, seeing some more casual footwear, a second pair of dress shoes that he wasn’t wearing to the office, and a red box that seemed out of place. The box had a transparent lid, a biohazard symbol on the side, and looked like it belonged in a doctor’s office. Through the transparency, Foggy saw covered needles attached to syringes. That’s unusual, Foggy thought as he closed the closet door.
His mind was no longer focused on the Daredevil suit. Instead, Foggy desperately wanted to know what his friend was injecting into his body. Foggy’s brain immediately jumped to the worst-case scenario as he scanned the room. Some superheroes were genetically modified with some sort of serum, right? What if Matt somehow got ahold of it and self-injected it? Though, Foggy saw multiple needles when he looked, and he assumed the process would only be done once. But what did civilian Foggy Nelson know about superheroes? It became increasingly obvious that his answer wasn’t going to be found in Matt’s bedroom, so he exited the room, and went to the next possible place where medication could be stored, the bathroom. Foggy had been in Matt’s medicine cabinet before to grab aspirin and never saw anything suspicious then, so he decided to check the cabinet under the sink instead.
Opening the cabinet, Foggy saw several small, white cardboard boxes next to another plastic container, this time with no biohazard warning or transparent lid. He picked up one of the white boxes and examined the text on the front which read “Testosterone Cypionate Injection”. Testosterone injections? Isn’t that what athletes abuse to increase athletic performance? Not exactly a superhero serum, but it would make sense that Matt would want something similar. Foggy sighed and grabbed his phone. He scrolled through his contacts to find Matt’s number, and hit the call button.
“Fogs?” Matt answered. “I’ve been waiting around for you, I need to see what you think of our brief so far.”
“Is Karen there? We need to talk. Alone,” Foggy said, his voice lowering into a whisper as he said the word “alone”.
“No, she told me she was stopping at the Bulletin to meet with Ellison,” Matt responded coolly. “What’s the problem?” Matt asked, a twinge of worry slightly filling his voice. Foggy couldn’t tell if the worry was from him intrinsically knowing that Foggy discovered another one of his secrets or a worry that Foggy was in danger.
Foggy pocketed one of the white testosterone boxes in his bag and got up off the bathroom floor. “We’ll talk about it when I get to the office. I won’t be long,” Foggy stated plainly. He clicked the end call button and made his way to the door. Snooping around to find the Daredevil suit would have to happen another day. Foggy closed the door, locked it from the outside with his key, and headed towards the stairs to leave.
***
Foggy arrived at the building where the Nelson & Murdock office was located and walked inside. The dimly-lit hallways, slightly ripping wallpaper, and vague musty stench felt oddly like home. Landman & Zach didn’t have that charm, but Foggy did sometimes miss his scheduled paychecks. He soon arrived at the Nelson & Murdock door and entered. Like Matt said, Karen wasn’t at her desk, but Matt wasn’t in immediate view either. Foggy looked over and Matt was situated in the conference room, focusing on his laptop with earbuds plugged in. As Foggy approached the conference room door, Matt raised his head and removed his earbuds. A faint smile appeared on Matt’s face as he got up from his seat.
“This case seems quite easy after the headaches we’ve had to deal with lately”, Matt stated with a soft chuckle, seemingly putting the previous phone call in the back of his mind. “Would you mind looking over what I have, so we’re on the same page?” Matt asked.
Foggy choked down a scoff. If Matt truly cared about him being on the same page, he would have told him everything months ago. “We need to talk,” Foggy said, pulling up a chair to sit in and laid his messenger bag on the table.
Matt slightly turned his head to the side but said nothing. He nodded, a non-audible cue for Foggy to continue with what he was going to say. Foggy hated being put on the spot like that, but he’s the one initiating this confrontation, so he needed to man up.
Foggy pulled out the white box he took from the sink cabinet and placed it on the table. He knew Matt couldn’t see it. “Are you a drug addict now too?” Foggy asked, exasperated. He didn’t mean for it to come out that way. He sighed, attempting to rephrase his accusation in his mind. “Are you taking performance enhancing drugs so beating up guys is easier for you?” he asked again.
Matt swiped the box away from Foggy and stuffed it in his own bag that was hanging off his chair. “It’s not what you think, Foggy,” he said in a lowered voice. Foggy imagined this was the same tone of voice he used when talking to the criminals of Hell’s Kitchen. Matt grabbed his own messenger bag and slung it over his shoulder, facing away from Foggy.
“Well what is it then, Matt?” Foggy asked. “Because none of this looks good,” Foggy sighed. “Didn’t we agree on no more secrets?”
Matt sat down again and lowered his head, his auburn hair resting messily on his forehead. If he had functioning sight, he’d be avoiding eye contact like the plague. “I’m not illegally using that medication,” he started. “It’s prescribed to me. I’m not using it for vigilante work either. I’ve been on it since I turned eighteen.” Matt sighed and tried to meet Foggy’s eyes the best he could. “No more secrets,” Matt whispered, mostly to himself. Matt felt trapped. He wanted to run as far away as possible. He shoved his hands in his pockets.
“No more secrets,” Foggy repeated, but he started to worry about Matt. Did he come off too strongly? Friends should be honest with each other, but did Foggy take it too far? “Buddy,” his voice softened. “You can tell me anything,” Foggy reassured.
“Okay,” Matt responded, shoulders lowering. The usual rigid confidence of the devil of Hell’s Kitchen shifted into something foreign to Foggy, something much smaller and… human. “You know that testosterone has other uses, right?” Matt asked, mentally surveying Foggy’s current knowledge on the topic.
Foggy just nodded, letting Matt continue. After a few seconds of bitter silence, Foggy spoke again. “I nodded,” he narrated. “Some men are just born with lower levels of testosterone and need to take more of it, right?” Foggy responded.
Matt tensed as Foggy spoke, not knowing if Foggy would fully understand. “Well,” Matt started. “I need it for… similar reasons,” Matt stated. He felt the familiar, cold prickle of exposure, like his suit had been stripped away and he was just a lonely kid again. A lonely kid in a gym waiting for a blow he couldn’t see coming. “I wasn’t born male,” he faltered. After a few moments of silence, Matt spoke again, in a harsher tone. “That’s the truth, isn’t that what you wanted?” Matt stood up again, grabbed his walking stick, and was prepared to stalk out of the conference room.
Foggy got up from his chair. “Matt, wait,” he called out. Matt’s head turned towards the sound of Foggy’s voice. “I’m not upset with you,” Foggy said. “I’m here for you, I promise,” he stated calmly. “I don’t see you any differently,” Foggy reassured.
Those seemed to be the magic words. Matt’s tense frame loosened ever so slightly, and he let out a deep breath. “Are you sure?” Matt asked. Foggy stayed silent, allowing Matt to hear only his steady heartbeat, a sign that he meant every word he said.
After allowing for a few more moments of silence, Foggy spoke again. “As right as rain,” he stated confidently. “I’m standing right here, Matty. I’m not going anywhere. I’m looking right at my best friend, and he’s the same guy who’s been right by my side through everything. We’ve been through thick and thin, some prescriptions won’t change that.”
Matt’s shoulders loosened fully and he gave Foggy a smile and a small chuckle in response. God, he is handsome, Foggy thought, shaking his head approvingly. Foggy extended his arms and wrapped them around the blind man’s skinnier frame. Matt rested his chin on Foggy’s shoulder.
“You’re not going to lose me,” Foggy insisted, and patted Matt’s back. He let go, and went to sit back in his chair. “We’re a team. ‘Nelson and Murdock’ isn’t just some sign on a door. You don’t need to hide anything from me. End of brief.”
“Okay, I believe you,” Matt said, as he rested his walking stick next to the table. He sat down in his seat and let himself fully relax. “I can come to you with any of my troubles?” Matt asked.
Foggy nodded, “That’s what friends are for,” he said with a smile.
“Can you help me with my next copay?” Matt asked.
Foggy rolled his eyes and playfully threw the closest notebook at him. Matt, expectedly, grabbed at it effortlessly. “Get us some clients, then we can talk about that,” he snorted.