2Wow, I very much had not intended to write this. My brain kept pitching me this AU idea but as like, a rewrite of canon? But it was refusing to give me anything beyond the first episode so I wasn't going to write anything for it.
And then suddenly it was 1:30 in the morning and I had written this. Whoops! So, y'know, I might write the first episode in this AU as well. Maybe. At some point. (I shouldn't, because I have other things I'm actually planning on writing, but hey, this one was unplanned as well)
Anyway, I don't really know much about Daredevil beyond the Netflix series, and I know even less about the American educational system, so let's just pretend that everything works out quite right, yes? Yes, good, excellent.
"Foggy," Matt says, quiet like he hopes that Foggy wouldn't hear it. Quiet like he hadn't quite intended to speak up.
"Yeah?" Foggy replies anyway, pausing with his packing to face Matt. "What's up, buddy?"
"I…" He pauses, and yeah, Foggy thinks, Matt definitely hadn't planned this out quite yet. "Um."
"Take your time," he assures, turning back to his packing. "But whatever it is, you know you can always tell me, right?"
"Right," Matt echoes. Foggy hears him take a deep breath, like he's trying to summon his courage. For what, Foggy honestly wouldn't know. He can't remember ever seeing Matt so nervous—not even for any of the exams they've done.
"I'm sorry," Matt says, now, and Foggy's heart skips a beat because he sounds… so, so serious, and so, so guilty.
Foggy's hands still over his half-packed bags. His heart thumps away, too fast. He can't imagine anything Matt might be sorry for. Nothing that would involve such guilt.
"For what?" he asks when he manages to untangle his tongue. He's sweating, but that's normal, right? It's summer. It has nothing to do with… this. Whatever this is.
He hears Matt shift behind him. "I'm sorry," he says again, like repeating it makes it any more clear what, exactly, he's sorry about. "If you want to switch dorms after this… I understand."
That was literally the opposite of an explanation, Murdock. Now Foggy just has more questions.
Foggy sighs, puts down the shirt he'd been holding for at least five minutes by now. Matt is sitting on his own bed, curled in tight. The line of his shoulders says 'guilty' as much as his tone did.
Foggy wants to joke, wants to lighten the mood, but he doesn't know how.
"After what, man? You haven't even told me what you're sorry for." He tries to keep his tone light, but his heart is loud in his chest, and he can't hear if he succeeded.
At least he won't have to worry about smoothing out his facial expression, he thinks, and then immediately feels guilty for drawing even the slightest comfort from Matt's blindness.
Matt is not looking at him. Or, well. Turning towards him. Remains hunched over, playing with the legs of his glasses.
"Matt, man, don't leave me hanging like this," Foggy prods. "You can't tell me I'm gonna be upset about something and then not tell me. I just said you can tell me anything."
"I…" Finally, some progress. He's not upset, not really, and whatever Matt's big secret is, Foggy is sure he can handle it. But Matt is… a little emotionally constipated. "I'm sorry."
Foggy stomps down the desire to groan, but he's so, so close.
He fixes his roommate with an unimpressed look, though, hoping that it's powerful enough for Matt to notice. And, somehow, he does. Turns slightly towards Foggy, eyes turned down and refusing to meet his gaze even if he could.
"Matt," he says, like the other man will be any more forthcoming this time than the previous three times. His heartbeat is too loud and too fast. "Seriously, whatever it is, there's no way it's as big of a deal as you're making it."
"I," Matt repeats once more, and Foggy braces himself for another 'I'm sorry'. "I have heightened senses."
Foggy jerks his head, feels his heart skip a beat.
That wasn't an 'I'm sorry'.
Holy shit.
"Blasphemy," Matt murmurs, and Foggy is certain that he hadn't said that out loud. No louder than a breath, at least.
Holy shit.
"Sorry." Matt turns his face away again, shoulders tight. "I shouldn't— should've— Sorry."
"Stop apologizing," Foggy tells him, because he's still wrapping his mind around the news but if Matt apologized one more time he's gonna strangle the guy. "It's…"
"Fine?" Matt finishes sardonically after he trails off. Shakes his head. "You don't think so. I can tell."
"How?" Foggy asks, not actually sure if he wants to know the answer or not.
Matt takes one hand off his glasses. Gestures vaguely as his head—or more accurately, his ears.
"Don't tell me you can hear what I'm thinking." He can't. There's no way. If Matt was a mindreader, he would've said as much. Right?
He snorts, shakes his head. "I can hear your heartbeat," he explains.
And, oh.
Foggy isn't sure if that's any better, actually.
Matt must have heard the way his heart skips at that news, because he nods, his mouth a tight grimace.
"So your hearing is… how good?" Foggy asks, because he's curious, now. He can't quite wrap his head around it, yet, it seems too fantastical to be true, but… but something about it seems right. It pings around his head, echoing off of countless memories of the past year.
The way Matt's head twitched around, sometimes, like he was hearing something Foggy didn't. The way he grimaced at— well, at all kinds of stuff. How he insisted that stuff had gone bad, sometimes, when nothing off about it could be found.
The time that Matt had insisted they skip out on some free meal that was being offered on campus, saying he didn't trust it. How glad Foggy had been for Matt's gut instinct the next day, when almost everyone in class had been sick.
Matt makes a face, lifting his face slightly so Foggy can finally see him. He's still playing with his glasses, no doubt smudging the lenses to no extent.
"The guys in the room on the end of the hallway are fighting again," Matt starts, slowly, cautiously. "Apparently one of them keeps bringing back girls, and the other is not too happy about that."
Foggy hums. The end of the hallway… that was pretty serious.
"There's a couple fighting on the end of the street," Matt continues, more steadily. His tone is almost challenging. "And someone's hailing a cab a block away from there."
"Oh," Foggy breathes.
"Sirens," Matt adds, cocking his head slightly. Frowns. "A few blocks away. Police."
"Oh," Foggy repeats. "I can't… imagine. Do you just… hear that? All the time? Or are you… like, listening for it?"
Matt shrugs, weakly. "I try to block it out, usually. But I can't, not all of it."
"The heartbeat?"
A nod. Matt's shoulders hunch up again. Always with the guilt, that guy.
"Okay," Foggy tells him. Takes a deep breath to try and calm his heartbeat to something more appropriate for excitement. "Wait, so are like, all your senses like that?"
"Besides vision?" Matt asks wryly. "Basically."
Well, that was… a lot.
"Isn't that like, super overwhelming?"
Matt jerks towards him, like he was surprised by the question. "What?"
"Well, it just seems like a lot to me," Foggy explains, shrugging even if Matt can't tell. "Unless you grew up with it, I guess."
"I—" Matt says, and raises a hand to his eyes. Ah.
"Knocked your peepers out and gave you superpowers, huh?"
Matt snorts, drops his hand again. His posture seems slightly more relaxed. Foggy will count it as a win. "It didn't knock my eyes out, Foggy, you know that."
"Psh." He flaps a dismissive hand. "Details. So, super senses. Anything I gotta like, know?"
"Know?" Matt repeats, like he's never heard the word before.
"Well, yeah." Foggy shrugs. "I'm shrugging at you, Murdock, just so you know. But, really. Anything I gotta do to make life friendlier on the ol' senses? Shower more often? Different deodorant? Come on, work with me here."
Matt frowns at him like he's never seen Foggy before. Heard him before? Um.
"You're… okay. With this?"
"I mean, it's a little weird." Matt flinches, and ouch, Foggy felt that in his heart. "But not, like, bad weird. It's pretty cool, actually. I can't imagine how often you've saved me from food poisoning. And here I was, thinking you had good instincts."
"Uh. Yeah." Matt cocks his head at him. "Not… bad?"
"Matt, seriously. For a guy who can hear people talk two streets away you sure are bad at listening." Foggy grins, and wonders if Matt can tell, somehow. From the tone in his voice, at least, he's sure.
Matt gapes at him. "You're not…"
"Upset?" Foggy finishes for him. "No, not really. I mean, it would've been nice to know sooner so I wouldn't have done anything stupid or embarrassing, but," he shrugs, "I understand why you wouldn't have said anything."
"Oh." Matt turns his head down again, like he's looking at the glasses he's still fidgeting with. "I… thanks."
"Hey, don't mention it. That's what we're friends for, right?"
Matt's head jerks back up. "What?"
"Friends," Foggy repeats. His heartbeat speeds up again, and he tries to stamp it down, to no avail. "Right?"
"I… I didn't…" Matt licks his lips, blinks confusedly. "You still want…"
Foggy scoffs. "Of course we're still friends, man. We just went over this. I asked if I could do anything to help accommodate for your senses. Keep up, Matt."
"It's… fine," his best friend finally manages, weakly. "I'm used to it."
He squints at Matt for a moment. "Fine. But if anything comes up, tell me. Really, Matt. No martyring of any kind in this dorm room, you hear me?"
Matt laughs weakly. "I hear you."
"Walked right into that one, didn't I?" Foggy shakes his head, then leans forward a little. "I just gotta know… if your senses are all so strong, can they, like… make up for your vision, sort of? Like, you explained how good your hearing is, but how does touch work? Smell? Taste?"
"Well, I could tell you exactly what you've eaten the past twenty-four hours," Matt says, slowly. He seems to know when Foggy opens his mouth, because he adds, "Even if we hadn't spent all that time together, I mean. I can tell you exactly what ingredients are in a meal—even the stuff you don't want to know about. I can… I know where you are. Where stuff is, if I focus."
"What, like a bat? Echo-location?"
"Sort of." Matt shrugs. Reaches over to the nightstand and picks up the baseball that Foggy hadn't packed yet. "It's more than just sound. I can feel the— the currents in the air, and the warmth, and all that. It kind of… combines. Almost like seeing, but it's… not quite that."
"Sounds complicated." Foggy hums, watches as Matt puts down his glasses and rolls the baseball in his hand. "So if I asked you to throw that…"
Matt grins, weakly, and tosses the ball in the air. He catches it smoothly when it comes down again.
"You've been holding out on me, Murdock!" Foggy holds out his hands. "Come on man, show me!"
Matt wafers for a moment. Then, before Foggy can taunt him again, he winds back and throws the ball straight at Foggy.
He catches it easily, whistles lowly. "Not bad, not bad."
And then, before he can really think about it, he throws it back. Straight at Matt.
Who seems to catch it automatically, his hand coming up to intercept it.
"Shit, sorry," Foggy apologizes, even if nothing happened. "I didn't think about it. Fully automatic."
Matt clicks his tongue, sounding almost… disapproving. "Throwing baseballs at a blind man? Don't let anyone see you."
Foggy laughs, and catches the ball when Matt throws it back. "Yeah, good advice. I'll pack this before any more incidents happen."
Matt hums, a grin still lingering on his face.
"But if you can tell when a baseball is coming…" Foggy pauses where he's stuffing the ball in his bag, turning his head back towards Matt. "You can tell when a car is coming, too, right? At like, intersections and stuff? And you can sense walls, and buildings?"
"Yes," Matt agrees, hesitantly. Cautiously.
Foggy turns fully back towards Matt. His heart is thumping in his chest again. "So the… the leading, it wasn't really…"
"Necessary?" Matt finishes for him.
"Wanted," Foggy corrects. "I was going to say, wanted. Do you not—"
Matt shakes his head vigorously. "No, no. I…"
He pauses, like he's searching for the right words. Foggy waits to let him.
"I… like it," Matt finally settles on. "I like hearing you talk. It's… nice. To not have to focus so hard on the world."
"Oh." Foggy's heart flutters. He clears his throat, wishes he could clear the emotion the same way. "Well, good! Because there's plenty more where that came from!"
"You really don't… mind?"
Foggy snorts. "Of course not. It's part of the patented 'Foggy Nelson best friends' package, pal. You're not getting out of it that easily."
"Good." Matt grins, a little. "I'm… glad."
"You'd better be! It's an exclusive deal." He opens his arms, wide. "Now come here, give me a confirming best-friends hug, won't ya?"
Matt tilts his head, like he's… listening. Ah. Then, hesitantly, he pushes himself to his feet. Crosses the distance between their beds, step by step.
Foggy continues to hold out his arms. He's not sure if he should narrate the distance, or if that would ruin the moment. Maybe not narrating ruins it, instead.
Then, suddenly, a warm body is pressed against Foggy's. Matt must've crossed the rest of the distance while he'd been distracted.
He wraps his arms around Matt. He feels Matt mimic his positioning, like he wasn't sure where he was supposed to put his hands. Like he hadn't had much experience with hugs.
Just that thought alone was so saddening that Foggy made a note to hug Matt more often. The guy clearly needed it.
"Man, you've got some solid fucking muscles under that sweatshirt of yours," Foggy comments thoughtlessly, patting Matt on his shoulder. "How do you even fit sporting in that schedule of yours?"
Matt laughs, softly, and Foggy can feel it throughout his whole body. "I box, sometimes. It helps me relax."
"You know, I'm really glad you told me that after explaining your super senses, because I would've been really worried otherwise." He grins against Matt's shoulder, wonders if Matt knows, can tell. "You should show me, sometime. I bet you look really cool."
He can feel Matt stiffen against him, and he worries, for a moment, that he misspoke. But Matt relaxes again, and laughs quietly against Foggy's neck. "I wouldn't know, would I?"
"Oh, walked right into that," Foggy mutters without heat. "But?"
"But it sounds… good. Fun." Matt sighs, and it sounds happy. "You're… taking this really well."
"You made it sound like a way bigger deal than it was." Foggy scoffs. "Seriously, the way you were apologizing, man. I was starting to worry that you had, like, killed a man and hidden him in the walls."
Matt laughs again. "Nah. Wall's too thin for that."
Foggy pauses, but Matt's posture remains relaxed. "Oh, come on, don't even joke about that."
A loud sound shreds the peace, suddenly, and they jerk apart. It takes him a moment before he recognizes the sound—his alarm.
"Shit," he swears, already moving to turn it off. "Sorry. Totally forgot I set it."
The quiet returns, but Matt has already wandered back to his side of the room. "It's fine," he says, rubbing his ear a little. "Just surprised me."
"Well, that makes both of us." Foggy lets himself fall back on his bed, grabbing the previously abandoned shirt. "Now I'll need to hurry to get all this packed before my parents get here."
"Want me to help?"
Foggy looks over at Matt over his shoulder. Then back at the stuff he still needs to pack.
"Yeah, that sounds great, actually."
I never really struggled with the whole fanfic-typical pronoun-confusion thing until this one fic. I was in he/him hell the whole way down, but hopefully it wasn't too confusing to read. As always, tips/feedback/critique are very welcome! I'm always working to improve my writing, and also sometimes I do dumb things to English by trying to apply sayings or figures of speech from my native language that don't translate well.
Also the ending is a little abrupt, I will admit, but I... really didn't know how to round it off. I wanted to lead up to "nothing really changes" but couldn't think of a smooth way to get there without involving some kind of time skip.
