Okay guys as you know I’m fairly new to all this writing blog stuff, so bear with me! I’m still trying to figure out how to format my posts. I wanted to re-do this one so I could put tags on it.
Request: Could you write a fic where Matt gets seriously injured and as a result has crazy migraines and looses his heightened senses, so he needs Foggy to help him do everything? Sorry, this is a very loaded request.
Sorry this took so long! Okay anon, this is probably not what you had in mind for me to write you AT ALL, but I’m not used to ships (as you can see by my other posts I usually write character/reader)! I really tried my best with this one though!
Word count: 1,473
Punch after punch was thrown. The air was filled with a flurry of kicks, and the floor decorated with speckles of blood and sweat. Yellow light from the quiet streets filtered in through the old windows of the abandoned apartment building.
Matt stood in the middle of the room, blood dripping from his clenched fists. He was covered in deep cuts and gashes. He had taken more than he had dealt, but he refused to back down. Maybe he should have, though, because he couldn’t go on much longer. The man who stood before him was one of his worst opponents yet. He was nearly twice Matt’s size, but as agile as someone half.
Matt flew across the room, coughing up blood. The huge rival went after him, spinning and flipping to avoid Matt’s counter punches and kicks. The two sprung on each other relentlessly, but Matt continued to fall under the man’s force.
“You keep getting in the way,” his adversary hissed. “It is my job to make sure that doesn’t continue.”
He made his way over to Matt’s battered body, studying it before grabbing him by the neck and lifting him to his feet. Matt tried to take this opportunity to land more kicks and punches, but he couldn’t muster the energy. Before Matt could touch the man another time, a perfectly-placed kick met his chest. He flew backwards, shattering the window behind him. He fell, 5 stories, to the ground below. He was intercepted by a dumpster, and blacked out.
“No, yea, he should be okay now. Just don’t let him run around for a while,” Claire’s voice rang through Matt’s head, bringing him back to consciousness. “I mean it, Foggy. If he tries to do any of the shit he did that got him into this condition, he could make his life a hell of a lot worse. No more Daredevil.”
“I’ll try my best.” Foggy shook his head. “But you know Matt. He gives you those little puppy eyes, throws in a lip quiver. Next thing you know he’s out the door jumping across rooftops and you’re on the floor collecting the pieces of you broken heart.”
Claire chuckled at him. “Yea, okay. Anyway, he’s gonna have really bad migraines for at least a week. So he’ll need your help doing a lot of simple stuff. It’ll probably get really annoying, but you’re like, best friends, aren’t you?”
Foggy nodded. “Thanks for patching him up. Again. Like always.”
“No problem,” Claire said, glancing back at Matt, who laid on his bed in the middle of his room. His chest was covered in dried blood and stitches, and a blanket was draped over his legs. “Did you get all that?” she asked Matt when she saw his open eyes.
“I can’t…can’t stay here. I have to help this city, I have to…”
“Yea, he’ll be groggy for the first few hours.”
“Groggy? He talks like this when he’s alert,” Foggy said. “But yea I get it. Guess I’ll be staying here for a while buddy.” He tapped Matt’s feet so he knew the sentence was directed at him.
“If you have any problems, call me, okay? Seriously. I’ll always be there and with him, you never know when you’ll need a doctor.”
“Thanks, Claire,” Foggy said. She nodded, collected her stuff, and walked out of Matt’s apartment, locking the door behind her. “Look buddy, it’s late, and you need some sleep.” He picked up the blanket that was draped over Matt’s feet and pulled it over his wound-ridden chest. “I’ll be a room over.”
With a few deep breaths, Matt fell asleep again.
His eyes flew open. His breathing was rapid and shallow. He gasped for air, throwing the blanket off of himself and sitting up. Foggy dropped his tablet and and rushed into Matt’s room, grabbing him by the shoulders. Matt’s blind eyes were wild, and he winced at the touch.
“Foggy…..Foggy I can’t… I can’t…” Matt wheezed.
“Can’t what?!” Foggy panicked. Matt’s hands flew to his temples. He grimaced as Foggy took his head in his hands.
“My senses I…” He froze. “I can’t hear your heartbeat. I know you’re worried but I can’t hear your heartbeat.”
Foggy let out a sigh of relief. “It’s probably just the migraines. Claire said you’d get them for at least the first week, since you had such bad head trauma.”
Matt didn’t seem any less relieved. His eyes were still wild. “How am I gonna do anything without… I don’t know what to do.” His eyes softened, and his back slouched.
Foggy moved one of his hands to Matt’s back, gently rubbing small circles. “It’ll be okay buddy. I’ll stay here if you want. I’ll take care of everything. Want some lunch? I’ll make you some lunch. How do sandwiches sound?” he patted Matt’s shoulder and stood up from the edge of the bed, making his way to the kitchen. Matt took a deep breath, and nodded weakly.
Foggy opened the fridge and examined the sparse food that sat on the shelves. Not enough for the sandwiches he promised. He went to the cabinets and found a half-empty box of pasta. He stood at the stove and turned on a burner, then looked for pots. One sat in the sink, dirty, and it was the only one he could find.
“Hey Matt, got any other pots or pans? Your kitchen is a little sparse on food too…” he yelled across the rooms.
“Yea it’s the only one. I’m not used to catering. And I do need to get more stuff.” Matt responded, still sitting on the side of the bed. “Aren’t you making sandwiches? Why do you need a pot?“
Foggy pulled the pot from the sink and turn the water on. “Wait, don’t you usually… oh that’s right, I forgot you lost your spidey senses. No, you didn’t have anything for ‘em, so I’m cooking up some pasta I found.”
He grabbed dish soap and poured some into the pot. He reached for the sponge and scrubbed the old food out, rinsing it generously. He then filled it halfway and put it on the stove, waiting for it to boil.
He returned to Matt’s room. Matt remained on the bed where Foggy left him, his feet dangling over the side and his shoulders slouching. “Come on buddy, let’s get you moving.” He stood on Matt’s side and put his arm around his shoulder. Placing his hand on Matt’s, Foggy lifted him to his feet. Matt winced as he walked, the pain of the fight not completely healed yet. But Foggy remained a stiff crutch for his friend, and they walked to the small table in Matt’s living room. He felt around for the chair, and Foggy eased him in. He then returned to the stove, pouring uncooked rigatoni into the boiling water. He motioned to the pile of dishes that sat in the sink.
“Want me to take care of these?” He asked.
“Dishes. Nevermind, I got them. Later, I’m gonna go shopping for you. Make me a list.” He faced the sink and turned on the water, rinsing off what he could before placing dishing into the dishwasher. By the time he was done, so was the pasta. He flipped through Matt’s cabinets again in search of a colander. “Damn it Murdock, just have to make things harder on me don’t you?”
“What do you mean? What are you looking for now?”
“A colander. For the pasta. Got one of those?” He glanced over at Matt.
“What? I should. Behind the big bowls. I think.” Foggy pushed past the large bowls, as Matt instructed, and found what he needed. He poured the pot into the colander over the sink to drain out the boiling water. He then put the pasta in two bowls, one for each of them. He returned to Matt’s fridge and pulled out a small bottle of parmesan cheese, shaking out just enough to add flavor to the small meals.
“Here you go,” he said, placing the bowl on front of Matt. “Think about that shopping list yet?”
“Foggy, you can’t be doing all this for me. I can’t ask you to do all this.” Matt said, ignoring his food. His eyes were glued on the floor.
Foggy put down his fork and sighed. “Matt, I know you don’t want to have to rely on anyone for anything. You have this ‘lone wolf’ thing going on, I get it. But right now, you do need me and Claire. As much as you hate to admit it. And, it’s not even like it’s a burden on either of us. So why’re you even worried? I love hangin’ around here with you! It’s just like college!” Foggy laughed.
Matt cracked a smile, and picked up his fork, taking a bite of his pasta.
“Yea, I guess it is.”