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“Yeah - Mom, I - No, of course I’ll - Yeah - Uh huh - Okay Mom, I have to - I have to - Oh, look, a client! - No, I’m not lying - Love you, too - No mom, I actually have to hang up now - Okay - bye,” Foggy hung up with an irritated sigh, loud enough that even Karen could have heard it through his office door.
He came out a few minutes later, after banging his head on his desk several times. Matt could only imagine the little red circle that must be forming on his forehead after that. Judging by Karen’s undignified snort upon seeing him, it must have been quite a sight to behold.
“Trouble in Nelsonland?”
“Hardly. My mom’s making plans for Christmas, and called for the annual ‘Why haven’t you given me any grandchildren to spoil yet and do you promise to be nice to your sister this year’ spiel.”
“Wow. That’s quite a spiel.”
“She’s a handful, for sure,” Foggy said, though not unkindly.
“I’d say that goes for all Nelsons, though,” Matt said, laughing at his friend’s exasperation. “Where do you think Foggy gets it, Karen?”
“Excuse you, I am a treasure,” Foggy shot back indignantly.
“So’s your mom.”
“I’m sure she is, but right now it’s time for lunch and there’s a panini with my name on it just down the street. It’s my turn to pick up, any preferences?” Karen cut off their bickering with a laugh, getting up to leave.
Matt and Foggy rattled off their lunch orders, then opted to go through the files Brett had dropped off from the station for their newest tenement case.
Things had been tense between the two of them since Foggy had found out about Matt’s...extracurricular activities. It had gotten better day by day, in small increments, since Fisk had been put away, and Matt could tell that Foggy was trying, but there were times that Matt worried they’d never be able to get back to where they once were. There were times Matt worried he’d ruined them beyond repair, no matter how many times Foggy promised he’d forgiven him.
“So...are you looking forward to Christmas with the Nelson clan?”
Foggy groaned. “It’s not that I don’t love them, or that I don’t think I’ll have a good time, but sweet biscuits, they’re exhausting.”
Matt laughed. “Well, you’ve gotta make it through, if only to bring me back a slice of your mom’s peach cobbler.”
“‘Bring you back a slice’? Bring you back?”
“I mean, you don’t have to obviously, I was just joking.” Foggy didn’t answer, just staring at Matt. Or, silently facing in Matt’s direction, at least. Maybe he’d overstepped? “Foggy, I didn’t mean to presume - ”
“Matt, what are you even talking about?”
“...I mean, I thought I was talking about pie, but - ”
“Why would you think you’re not coming home for Christmas? You’ve come with me for the past like, five years.”
Matt tried to ignore the way his chest tightened when Foggy called the Nelson house ‘home’, like it belonged to both of them. He ploughed on: “I just assumed, since, you know, the whole Daredevil thing came out, that you might want a break from all this,” he said, gesturing vaguely. The ‘from me’ , was left unsaid.
Matt didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t a smack upside the head.
“Are you kidding me? What the shit did I do to make you think you weren’t coming with me?”
“I mean, you never said anything, and I know you’re still a little angry with me about - “
“I didn’t say anything because I thought it was a given. I thought it went unsaid, that you were invited. Didn’t you use your super hearing to listen to that phone call with my mom? She asked about you like, six times,” Foggy said, this time his exasperation directed at Matt, not his family. He shook his head. “And, by the way? Me being angry with you doesn’t mean that you suddenly don’t matter any more. I get that your abandonment issues have abandonment issues, but stop thinking I hate you or something. I don’t. You’re my person, and I’m yours. You’re stuck with me,” he paused. “Besides, I’m like, 90% over the angry. It’s basically just me being petty at this point.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh . You idiot.”
Matt was infinitely glad that he had his glasses on. Foggy definitely would have noticed the tears in his eyes, and that would have been embarrassing for everyone. Foggy had already seen enough Murdock tears to last him a lifetime.
********
Foggy had rented a car for the drive out of the city, since his parents had decided to move out of Hell’s Kitchen after they retired. Something about being sick of double checking the locks and coming home to find graffiti on their building? Matt understood part of it: being vigilant is a good thing, to be sure, but sometimes staying in the Kitchen, being constantly alert, could be tiring. He supposed he wouldn’t know what it’s like to get irritated with graffiti, though.
Either way, he and Foggy were set to drive an hour and a half out to a nice little town that was vigilante and graffiti-free. Foggy picked him up early in the afternoon, heading up to Matt’s apartment to help bring down his bags. He hadn’t needed to announce his presence: Matt had heard him singing along to the radio from three blocks away, and pulled the door open accordingly.
“Don’t tell me you could hear my heartbeat from five miles away or something?”
Well, he could, but that was more because he was near-obsessively in tune with Foggy than anything else. So - “No, but I could hear your - Does it really count as singing?”
“Oh, very cute. You’re hilarious. Can’t you hear me chuckling? Let’s get going, smartass. I promised Mom we’d be there in time for dinner."
So they were off, Foggy driving just a tad too fast once they were out of the city and on the highway. Listening to country music. As Foggy sang along. Terribly.
“Fog, you’re from New York City. Isn’t it practically sacrilege that you like country music?”
“Would you rather I jam out to Biggie?”
“...point taken.”
********
Matt and Foggy arrived just as Mrs. Nelson was pulling the chicken out of the oven, from what he could tell. At least they’d be spared a scolding for tardiness, then.
Foggy leaned over. “We could just run away, you know. Go up to the Pokonos for the holidays. Get drunk on eggnog with no witnesses.”
Matt’s heart clenched at the thought of he and Foggy up in the mountains, cozy and warm by the fireplace in a small cabin. It clenched at the thought of Foggy wanting that. Instead, he said: “I don’t know how a blind man would do skiing, even one with my senses.”
“Point. I wonder how a ‘world on fire’ works in the snow?”
Matt scoffed. “You’re an idiot.”
They walked up to the door, Foggy ringing the doorbell a few more times than was strictly necessary. “Foggy, I’m pretty sure you can just let yourself in. They’re your family.”
“Then how would I announce myself in as irritating a way as possible?”
Matt chuckled, going to answer, when the door was pulled open, and someone yanked him inside by the arm.
He was suddenly engulfed in what felt like seven pairs of arms, with people shouting cheerful welcomes to both he and Foggy over each other. It was loud, it was cramped, it was uncomfortable, it was stifling, even.
Matt loved every second of it.
*******
They spent the next day, Christmas Eve, eating good food, smiling politely, dodging awkward questions from the old biddies, and being crawled on and serving as jungle gyms for Foggy’s younger cousins. Foggy complained under his breath the whole time, but Matt knew that he enjoyed all the affection and familiarity as much as he did himself.
Still, Matt had to admit that he was relieved by the time the kids were packed up in their car, dead asleep, and the two of them were finally allowed to retreat to their shared bedroom.
Foggy flopped onto his old twin bed, groaning. “I swear, they get louder and more nosy every year.”
Matt laughed at his friend’s whining. “Yeah, I missed them too.”
Foggy bolted upright. “Oh man, I never thought of it, but these trips must be a nightmare for you with your… you-ness,” Matt tilted his head, perplexed, so Foggy elaborated. “I mean, we’re all so loud , and you can probably hear my sisters gossiping from like, two floors up, and then there’s all the children shrieking when the extended family comes on Christmas Day, and oh my god please tell me you’ve never heard Candace have sex, she’s brought like, three boyfriends back in the past few years -”
"I like it," Matt said, smiling softly to himself. "The noise, that is. I’ve always loved coming here, being around all of you like this. You're the kind of family I used to dream about having when I was a kid, like the ones I would read about in books. I didn't even know families could actually be like this until I met you."
Foggy was silent. There wasn't much to say to a confession like that, Matt supposed. Still, he was concerned that he'd been too open with Foggy. He had made Matt promise, no more secrets but...maybe he wasn't responding because Matt had scared him off, made him uncomfortable?
"...Foggy? Are you okay? I didn’t mean to ruin the mood, or anything."
Foggy snorted. "Am I okay? I should be asking you that, buddy."
Matt shrugged. "I'm just being honest. You shouldn't feel bad, though. I'm glad I get to be a part of it, in a small way," It was hard to articulate, what he was feeling. It might be awkward for Foggy to hear, but Matt needed him to know how lucky he was, how incredible the Nelsons were to him. "Watching you with your mom - figuratively speaking - it's what I always imagined having one would be like. A mother, that is. You know, someone who fusses over you, and loves you so much it's almost suffocating, but in the best way."
Foggy moved so that he was sitting next to Matt on the bed. He went to put his hand on Matt's knee, hovering over it for a time, before deciding against it and settling it back on his own. Maybe he didn't want Matt to think he was pitying him?
"You never talk about your mom," he said it hesitantly, like he was afraid Matt would bolt at the personal question. As if he wasn't sure Matt was ready to share this part of himself.
"She left when I was a baby. I don't remember her at all. My dad never wanted to talk about her, so I don't really know much," Matt paused. He'd never told anyone about this before. Then again, he'd never had anyone like Foggy before either. "I used to imagine what she looked like, when I was a kid. I always thought I must have her eyes, since my dad's were blue. I always pictured her wearing red lipstick, like all those old hollywood movie stars. My dad always loved Singin’ in the Rain , so I thought she might look a bit like Debbie Reynolds. I’d wonder about things like that, stupid things," he laughed, albeit a bit wistfully. "It's odd, you know? Even if I wasn't blind, I’d still never know what she looked like. What color her hair was, what it looked like when she smiled, or even if she gets freckles when she's in the sun, like I do."
At this Foggy put his hand on Matt’s knee. "Matt, that is one of the saddest things I've ever heard. And that includes the time we watched that documentary about killer whales. Holy shit, why am I the only one crying right now? How are you not weeping?"
Matt laughed, nudging Foggy gently. "I did all my crying a long time ago. Besides, one of us has to be the tough one, and we both know it sure as hell isn't gonna be you."
Foggy scoffed, elbowing him. "Way to ruin our beautiful bonding moment, asshole."
"I’m not trying to make you feel bad for me, or anything. I just want you to know how special the Nelson Clan is, is all."
Foggy wrapped his arm around Matt’s shoulder, pulling him close for a moment, before sighing and letting him go. He sighed, standing up. “All right, let’s get ready for bed. I’ll take the air mattress,” Matt went to protest, but Foggy cut him off. “Don’t, ‘but Foggy’ me. Did you think I didn’t notice you wince when Mom hugged you too tight? What is it, a cracked rib?”
He paused.
“....it’s only a hairline fracture…?”
“Jesus, Matt, you’re a mess.”
“Blasphemy, Foggy.”
********
They woke early the next morning to Foggy’s sisters combining forces and whacking them in the heads with pillows.
“Wake up, Foggy Bear! Time to open presents and get drunk on eggnog before three in the afternoon! The spirit of Christmas waits for no man!”
Foggy groaned, batting away the offending pillows half-heartedly. “Candace, if I get up, do you promise not to talk to me until I have at least two cups of coffee in me?”
“I make no promises.”
“Then I will remain here, in my blanket burrito, until at least 10 o’clock.”
Unfortunately, Foggy’s attitude meant that the two women turned their attention to Matt instead.
“Matthew Mercutio Murdock, get your life partner out of bed immediately. You two are far too old to try and sleep in.”
“Leslie, I have a deal for you,” he paused. “Also, no, the M doesn’t stand for Mercutio. ”
“The lawyer has a deal. Oh great.”
“You give us an hour to get coherent, and in return, Foggy doesn’t attack you in his addled, sleep-deprived state.”
The two women turned to each other, mulling over Matt’s offer. Eventually they shrugged. Turning back to Matt.
“Oh! We just shrugged in an ‘I guess’ kind of way. We accept your proposal. See you in an hour, assholes.”
With that, they left, leaving Foggy and Matt to lie in their beds and, at least on Matt’s part, consider the merits of trying to sleep for another 45 minutes. Apparently, what Foggy was considering was something else entirely.
“You didn’t correct Leslie, when she called me your life partner.”
Matt froze. “Oh - uh - “
“I mean, I guess there’s no point anymore. There’s only so many times you can correct someone. Besides, they’re kind of right aren’t they?”
What? What did Foggy mean by that? Did he know about how Matt felt? Did he imagine themselves growing old together the way Matt did? Did he -
“ - I mean we do have our own practice, which makes us partners, right?”
Oh.
“Of course. Avocados at law, right?”
“You know it, buddy.”
*******
By the time Matt and Foggy finally emerged and had downed two cups of coffee each, the Nelson clan was ready to exchange gifts around the fireplace. Matt sat next to Foggy on the couch nervously, fidgeting with his hands. He’d spent months agonizing over what to get Foggy and his family, and he was still anxious that they wouldn’t like their gifts. He’d never really had to buy presents for people until he’d met Foggy back at Columbia. Before then, the last time he’d given someone a gift had been when he’d made that bracelet for Stick, and that had blown up in his face spectacularly.
Still, in the cozy sweater Mrs. Nelson had made him the year before, sitting around the fireplace and surrounded by giggling children and the mingling smells of pine and eggnog, it was hard to stay anxious for too long. Candace tapped his knee, to give him a heads up before dropping a small pile of presents onto his lap. Matt allowed himself a small smile, his fingers running over the wrapping paper. He could tell which was from Foggy: he always wrapped his presents in the funnies from the newspaper, reading the comics to Matt after he’d opened the gifts. Matt had grown to enjoy Foggy’s Charlie Brown and Garfield voices almost as much as the presents themselves.
He picked up the topmost gift, running his hands along the sides until he found the card attached to the wrapping paper. Usually he could just trace his fingers along the indentations from the pens the sender had used to write the generic “To Matt, From SoandSo” to figure out the present’s origin. When that failed he just asked Foggy to read the tag. Matt paused, however, when his fingers brushed against what felt suspiciously like braille
“Oh, hey, that’s from my mom. I always forget it’s easier to tell for us, because she uses the same wrapping paper for all her presents,” Foggy said when he noticed the gift Matt was holding. He didn’t seem to notice the braille. Matt hesitated all too briefly before running his fingers across the words:
For my second son, with all my love.
Next to the braille Mrs. Nelson had drawn a small heart, as well as a few x’s and o’s for good measure.
Matt felt his breath catch in his throat, his hands shaking as he ran his fingers over the note again and again, dumbfounded. He felt Foggy nudge him softly, questioningly, but he just shook his head, standing abruptly. The Nelsons all turned to face him, some making questioning noises.
“Excuse me for a moment - that coffee isn’t sitting very well with me,” Without waiting for a response, Matt bolted up the stairs, the card from Mrs. Nelson’s gift clutched tightly in his hand.
He closed the door to his and Foggy’s shared room a bit too aggressively, he thought, but Matt was too shaken to really care. The comforting cacophony that was the Nelson home seemed muffled to him now, fading slightly as he sat on Foggy’s old twin bed, running his fingers over the braille, the heart, the hugs and kisses on the note again and again as tears fell down his cheeks and a lump formed in his throat. Matt didn’t know what he was feeling, but it was making his chest tight and his hands shake with the strength of it.
He didn’t say anything when he heard Foggy come into the room and sit next to him; his only response to his friend’s arrival was to take off his glasses and wipe uselessly at his eyes. Foggy chuckled fondly at that, reaching over to wipe softly at Matt’s face.
“Your hands are covered in blue ink, Matty. Maybe don’t touch your face if you don’t want to look like a particularly rugged smurf.”
Matt laughed wetly, leaning into Foggy’s warmth almost subconsciously as the other man wrapped an arm around him, rubbing his back soothingly. When Matt didn’t speak up, Foggy pressed on gingerly.
“So, I’m guessing my mom didn’t call you an asshole in that card, huh? That is, if the really smudged heart and x’s and o’s are anything to go by.”
Matt shook his head, grabbing Foggy’s hand, tracing his friend’s fingers over the braille. He read it aloud as Foggy’s fingers traced the small bumps.
“I don’t understand. What’s got you so upset? I thought you liked being an unofficial member of the Nelson clan.”
“I do. I just ... son ?” Matt winced as his voice cracked on the last word, betraying just how emotional he’d gotten. He heard Foggy’s sharp intake of breath, his soft sigh; smelled the salty tears that reached his eyes; felt his hand pause in its soft strokes along Matt’s back.
“Oh, Matty ,” Foggy sighed, pulling Matt closer. He held him there for a time, before he suddenly stood up, throwing Matt off balance with the abruptness of it. “Don’t move.”
Foggy disappeared down the stairs, leaving Matt to sit on his own and try desperately to keep himself together, only to reappear a few minutes later with someone else in tow. Now, Matt could tell Foggy apart from anyone based on his heartbeat, his footfalls, his breathing, but he didn’t know exactly who he was with until the door opened and the scent of flour, honey, and lavender filled the room: Mrs. Nelson.
Matt stood up, wiping his nose and eyes on his sleeve hastily. “Mrs. Nelson! I didn’t mean to take you away from the party. Please, don’t worry about me, I’ll be right down.”
She and Foggy shared a look, before pushing Matt to sit back down on the bed. Mrs. Nelson sitting next to him while Foggy took a nearby chair.
“So, uh - I had a thought, and my mom said it was a good - ” Foggy was cut off by Mrs. Nelson.
“My eyes are blue,” she started, hesitantly. “Foggy told me you have a vague idea of what I look like, but...my eyes are blue.”
Matt frowned, bemused. “I mean, Foggy’s told me a bit, but - ”
“My hair’s blonde, or at least it used to be. Like straw - you remember what straw looked like? It’s more gray than yellow these days, but I’ve still got some color left, despite the best attempts of my children,” she said with a laugh, looking over at Foggy with what Matt imagined was a mix of exasperation and fondness. “Now, let’s see - I’ve always thought I have big ears, and my nose is small, like Franklin’s. I have a little scar on my cheek from when my cat Tazo scratched me as a girl, and I have a little mole next to my nose.”
Matt reached up without thinking, to feel that scar, to see how similar her nose was to Foggy’s for himself. He managed to catch himself, jerking his arms down to his side, horrified. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to - I would never - not without permission, that is, and I - ”
Mrs. Nelson reached over, taking his hand in her own before gently placing it on her face. “Go ahead, sweetheart. I don’t know why it’s taken us so long to do this in the first place.”
Matt nodded, swallowing convulsively, before haltingly running his hands along her face. Her eyebrows were thinner than he imagined, and her lips fuller, but her ears were a perfectly reasonable size, he thought. When he told her as much he felt the crow’s feet in the corners of her eyes deepen and crinkle as she laughed delightedly. When he was finally through, he gave Mrs. Nelson a wide smile before turning to Foggy, confused.
“This was your idea? I’m not saying it’s a bad one, I’m glad I have a better idea of what your mom looks like, but - ”
Foggy cut him off, speaking softly. “Mom doesn’t wear makeup too much, let alone red lipstick, but I’ve always thought she looked a bit like Judy Garland. You know what color her hair is, and her eyes, the same as mine. She has laugh lines, which I’m sure you felt, and when she smiles she has really deep dimples in her cheeks. And when she’s in the sun, she doesn’t get freckles, like me and Candace and Leslie, but she does turn into a lobster if she’s not careful.”
Oh.
Oh .
“Foggy…” Matt trailed off, his voice coming out a bit strangled.
“I’m sorry if I’m overstepping or anything, but I just -,” Foggy sighed, reaching over to place a hand on Matt’s knee. “Matty, there’s so much you don’t know about your mother. But, the way I see it, you’ve got a pretty good one here already, have for years, now. All you have to do is ask.”
Mrs. Nelson spoke up then, holding Matt’s hand in her smaller one. “All these years I’ve been trying to knock that politeness out of you, get you to call me Anna instead of Mrs. Nelson. Why don’t we just settle on ‘Mom’?”
Matt felt his breath hitch, and before he could even think to respond he was wrapped in a tight embrace and weeping like a child into her shoulder. He didn’t know how long they stayed there, him sobbing as Mrs. Nelson, as his mom , whispered soft reassurances into his ear. He pulled away, albeit reluctantly, once his sobs had dissolved into soft hiccups, giving her a weak smile in thanks.
She ran her fingers through his hair fondly, before standing up. “I’ll go and get Foggy, give you two a moment.”
Matt hadn’t even realized he’d left the room. “I’d appreciate that, thank you.”
“Thank you…?”
“Thank you, Mom,” Matt said with a shy smile, feeling something warm spread through his chest at the words. She gave him a pat on the cheek before heading out, sending Foggy into the room as she left.
“Matty, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to spring this on you like that, you were just so sad, and I hate that, and I just wanted to - ”
Foggy was cut off as Matt took his face in his hands and kissed him, soft and sweet. He pulled back quickly bracing himself for the fallout. He hadn’t meant to kiss Foggy, honestly, he was just so overwhelmed, and so happy, and -
Foggy kissed him.
Well then.
Matt smiled into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Foggy’s shoulders as the other man pulled him close. He broke the chaste kiss after a time, burying his face into the crook of Foggy’s neck, breathing him in.
“I’m sorry, I know that wasn’t the time, or the place, but…”
Foggy shushed him, squeezing him tightly. “We’ve always been bad at timing. I’m just glad you’re okay."
Matt nodded, smiling against Foggy’s neck. “After what you did for me, what your mom did...I’ve never felt so loved, you know?”
“Good,” Foggy responded, pressing a kiss into Matt’s hair. “You are.”