Matt went completely limb in her arms. His warm forehead fell in her neck. Something was wrong. He felt hot. Basically steaming.

"He is burning up. Again," Karen exclaimed.

Foggy blinked, jumping forward to help but stopped in his tracks. His mind had to process too much feelings in too little time.

"What?" he asked confused. Hand got up to his hair instead of getting Matt back on the couch. His friends arms were dangling as those from a ragdoll. Karen had to lock her grip around her unconscious friend in order to stop the fall face down on the ground. Her chin came in contact with the back of his neck.

"Yeah, he really is burning up, Foggy. I think he passed out. Mind helping me get him on his back?" Karen was struggling.

"Oh yes of course… Ehh…. Let's get him back on the pillow, first." Foggy felt sick, now. This was all because he wouldn't shut his damn mouth until the poor man was ready. Now this… this shit storm started all over. One feeling was only left now, within his mind. Guilt.

"I should've shut my mouth. It was too soon. How are we going to do this?" Foggy rambled, hands shaking while he took Matt's shoulder and slowly pulled him back onto the pillow. Matt's arms flopped down with him, making the scene horrific. It was like he already died on the spot.

Matt's face was flushed. Cheeks had sunken in and a pink blushy color stood out from the rest of his paleness. He looked so bad.

"Claire… She would strangle me when she finds out I… I.."

Karen shook her head.

"Don't, Foggy. It is not your fault. Matt… he i-is suicidal. It's his fault for… not taking care of the wound." Saying this out loud made it more real.

Matthew Murdock is suicidal. No matter what happened, he didn't take care of himself. He chose this. He was in big trouble. He needed help. From them.

"I have to check his wound." Carefully, Karen rolled the sweater up to look at the bandage. Of course it started to turn red.

"Shit." Foggy kicked the table with his feet next to him. It was getting better and better.

"Oh no… he started bleeding." Karen swore. Meanwhile Matt's hands started to weakly clasp the blanket, slowly coming out of it.

"Get his legs up," Foggy practically hyperventilating now. Karen was on it, her eyes never left Matt's face. Then she noticed them. The tears. Still leaking from the corners of the man's eyes. With one of her sleeve Karen tenderly wiped them away. It was hurting her, seeing the man cry.

Meanwhile Foggy got his phone and called Claire, hoping she wasn't mad, probably barely off work and in bed, after her nightshift. It didn't took long for her to pick up, though.

"What's wrong with Matthew?" her voice came in from the other side. Totally sounded not surprised.

"Short version… He woke up, I got mad. He passed out. Running a fever. A-and the wound opened up, again. Probably needs more of that medicine." He was referring to the stuff that made him sleep peacefully.

A sigh sounded.

"Okay. I'll be there in 15. Make sure he doesn't move too much. You can take the bandage off and clean the wound with luck warm water. Make the skin around the stitches wet, It will help once I'm there."

"Just a sec," Karen interrupted. She had zipped open the sweater and removed the bandage, revealing the inflammation and red dots around the wound.

Karen looked up at Foggy in panic.

Foggy gulped a moment before shaking his head. Karen and Foggy shared a worried look.

"Uh, Claire? He has a rash now. Like.. around the wound. I think that's important for you to know, right?" Foggy had an idea what was going on. Karen knew as well.

"Damn, blood poisoning. I need to get my things. He is going to need a line. I think I can treat him at hoe but it will take a few more minutes to grab the stuff I need. Keep the wound wet and his fever down. I'll be there in 20, tops."

As soon as the call was ended Foggy grabbed his head swearing under his breath.

Matt moaned, vocalizing his discomfort. Finally noticing he was back down on the couch. One hand desperately wanting to pull the blanket over his shivering shoulders.

"C-cold." Karen saw him grabbing onto the blanket and stopped him.

"No. Wait. First we need to clean the wound, Matthew."

Foggy came back with a bowl of water and a clean towel. Placed it on to the table next to the couch. He wanted to do this, He lowered himself on the ground and started drenching the towel before placing it on the infected wound. It took Matt by surprise and nearly yelped at the sudden stingy contact with the water against the open flesh. His feet kicking back the blanket. Karen only just stopped him from kicking her face.

"Matt, stop it. Calm down," Foggy tried sounding stern. And it worked.

The poor man stopped. The fever had taken over his mind and he looked so lost.

"Claire will be here soon. She would fix you up, nicely. And everything can be go back to normal," Foggy said. Hoping talking to his friend would make him feel a bit better. He took the towel back and drenched him again. The bowl of water slowly turned red from the blood.

"C-Claire is coming?" he asked with a very soft voice, barely above a whisper.

Karen placed a hand on the poor man's forehead, wincing at what she found out.

"Getting really hot, now," Karen whispered, eyeing Foggy.

"Claire is coming soon. Just take deep breaths, buddy. Relax. Let us do the work. That's it."

Matt rolled his eyes back and gulped nauseated. One hand grabbed the edge of couch as he was tempting to get up, only missing the strength to do so. Karen tried to understand what he wanted. So his stomach decided to help her with that and started making noises. Matt swallowed again before giving up and that was the moment Foggy backed out for Karen to grab the damn bucket.

The retching sounds were short and weak, but Matt had lost all that was still in him. Karen really didn't want to look at it but when Matt was done, falling back onto the pillow, she saw that it was mostly green bile. Karen took the bucket away from them and came back with another clean damp towel. She worked on the poor man's face.

Again, Matt had passed out.

"This… I never want to do again. I hate it. I hate all of this!" Foggy broke. "Where is that damn nurse already?"

"Foggy, stop. I know you are scared and.. and… mad. Me too, okay. But keep it together for now. For me." She was hanging by a tread right now. Barely holding it together herself.

She kept whipping the sweat off Matt's face, until the door finally swung open.

"Okay, guy's. This time we need something for him to bite on, this is going to be painful." Claire dropped her kit next to the couch and unpacked a lot of stuff. Including a surgical knife. Foggy eyed the knife in terror.

"Wowowow, You are going to cut him open? Shouldn't you be doing it at the hospital? In a sterile environment?"

Claire only nodded.

"Short answer, yes. Your friend has some good reasons why he wouldn't want to go to the hospital. It is not my place to tell anything about that. But let's just keep all the questions for later. We need to focus on keeping him alive."

She took out the first syringe. But before injecting it. She examined the unconscious patient.

"Pulse has weakened. Fever, shallow breathing." She looked over the wound.

"Got infected right away. Hmm. Did he move a lot? Or touch the wound?" Foggy remembered the fall.

"He fell down last night, trying to find his way to the bathroom. I nodded off for just a little bit and he tripped, falling on his stomach, his hands stopped most of the fall I believe. I should've examine the wound better, only looked at it, briefly." Claire nodded again.

"Not your fault. Trust me, I don't know your friend for long. But I already learned he is stubborn as hell. He let it go infected in the first place, remember." Despite everything, Claire still made some time to sooth Foggy's worries.

"I'll start off with some sedative. He will get a line installed as soon as I'm done. First I need to reopen the wound and clean it out more thoroughly. Re do the stitches again. Also need to run his blood, checking for tetanus. Pretty sure the thing that stabbed him wasn't very clean to begin with. And he will need to crème up his wound with some antibacterial ointment for two to three weeks. If this doesn't work, there must be more going on, and I can't treat him here. So let's hope for the best."

Both Karen and Foggy nodded.

"Alright, put this roll of bandage between his teeth so he won't bite his tongue off, and make it lot more difficult for himself." Karen took the bandage as Claire started to prepare the syringe. Foggy knelt next to the couch were Matt's head was resting. Ready to pin him down. Karen got off the couch to give the nurse some space. They all were nervous.

Well, except for Matt of course. He just listened to the voices with no expression on his pale and sweaty not-fully-there-face.

"Matt, bite on this," Karen whispered, pressing the bandage against his mouth. He accepted it.

"Alright," Claire said, focused on getting the needle in his vein.

…

For the most part, Foggy focused on not puking during Matt's muffled screams and huffs. Claire had managed to get the wound cleaned up in the end, finally showing her the problem. Although it took a while. A small piece of fabric. Has probably been stuck in there for days, causing the infection. After a second flush with the liquid wound sprayer there was still some mucous coming out. But the third flush, spilling back in the steel bowl, stayed clear.

Claire was pleased.

"There. That will do. Now let's close him up." Even Karen had turned pale after watching the whole thing from up close. How was the nurse even able to smile after…. This?" She unconsciously stroke Matt's ankle when the first stitch was in.

Foggy had a good look on his friends face. He was finally easing down with the pained eye twitches and grimaces. The sweaty brows where knitted up together and he was still biting on to the bandages. Hopefully he would be out soon. And rest.

The line was installed at the end of her work on the poor man. It would give Matt some fluids and antibiotics for the next three hours. When the drip was done the machine would beep and Claire explained them what to do next. She would return in time, hopefully. But assured the patient will be fine for the next hours. Sleeping.

When they were alone again Foggy run to the bathroom, puking.

…

Matt hadn't moved within these three hours. Still not looking very well. But at least out of danger. The fever got down slowly. Making the odd red flushed cheeks disappear.

Karen had been there, watching over him. Foggy was feeling sick and excused himself towards Matt's bedroom, trying to catch a few hours of sleep.

Then the machine started beeping. It was time to take the needle out. Just as Claire had told her. She would come in later to check up on Matt and take back the pole, she stole from the ER.

…

Foggy ordered Chinese, later that day. Feeling better himself. Karen was grateful he thought ahead, because she was starving. As they had some dinner.. or breakfast or whatever time it was… Karen finally spoke her mind.

"He's going to need help, Foggy. I mean… nothing else matters to me. What he did or is tried to do." She dropped her food looking in the eyes of her friend.

"Matt is suicidal. He didn't care about his wound or the cuts. Or what was happening to him. That's not normal." Foggy heaved a sigh, now pushing away his food.

"I don't know. This isn't the Matt I've known. It never occurred to me he was sad or depressed. Sure he is blind, lost his father at a young age. Matt worked hard for his degree at collage. Had all the girls… the hot girls at his feet. Never crossed my mind he was feeling suicidal, before. What happened to him? Our Catholic lawyer. Never did something wrong. Well. His apartment screams depression, now you brought it up, by the way."

That made Karen laugh.

"How was he… I mean… before… first time you met him?" Karen folded her hand under her chin, open for his story.

He thought about it for a while, not knowing the right words.

"He was… shy. Introvert is a better word for it. I don't know. Quiet. Always liked to think that destiny brought us together. Me, not really the best student, coming from a family that wanted me to be a butcher. Going out, drinking. And then there was Matt. You know. The choirboy. Wearing a cross around his neck at all times. It took him awhile to adjust to the real side of being a college student. Then he loosened up a bit. He was not that innocent as he wants you to know. He used to pull the poor-but-handsome-blind-guy card to get the chicks, I was his wingman. It was fun. But things never worked out for him." Foggy took a sip from his beer. The memories playing in his head.

"He never let himself be happy, Karen. If he had finally found someone he backed out." Foggy just now realized this.

"He never let himself be happy." He repeated that and it shocked him.

"Son of a bitch." Foggy stroked his hair back. How did he never realized this.

Karen chewed her lip.

"He needs us, Foggy. We can't just create another black hole and put him in there. We need to be here for him. Whatever he is been going through."

Foggy nodded.

"You're right, Karen."

After a long pause, Karen winked.

"Tell me more about your college days." She was liking the stories. It also was fun to see Foggy channel back to the happy memories. He looked so relaxed and fresh. It was addicting.

…

It started to get dark outside, again. And it was raining. Claire had been there, gathering her things. She had checked the patient over and was pleased with the vitals. So that was good.

Karen end Foggy had been at the table all day, talking about their live before Nelson and Murdock. Occasionally one of them glanced over at the sleeping patient on the couch. He had never moved a muscle.

Not until now.

Both alerted by the unhappy grunt, followed by the sound of shifting fabric.

He was awake.

"Who…. W-who is there?" a faint voice then slurred out.

Walking over to the couch Karen smiled, happy to see his eyes open and clear from the fever. He wasn't able to focus much. Not until she touched his outstretched arm, gently.

"Me and Foggy. My goodness, did we see the worst side of you." She meant to sound lightheartedly but her voice crackled by the haunting memory of blood and him, sobbing from the pain.

Matt whipped his eyes, quickly, and rolled them up to her but unable to see. For a second he almost looked horrified he couldn't see. As if he had forgotten he was blind.

"Karen… you helped me getting to the chair this morning."

She frowned.

"No, well yes.. But that was yesterday. Don't remember?"

Foggy eyed her in worry. Had he forgotten all about what happened?

"Matt, you were hurt. Claire took care of your stab wound. Remember?"

Matthew shot up from the pillow in terror. Immediately regretting it as he grabbed his side in pain.

"She told about me?" Karen got next to him on the couch franticly holding him down, Foggy was with her, grabbing one shoulder.

"About what, Matty?" he asked. Not to Karen's liking.

Meanwhile Matt slowly got back down on the pillow puffing out air as he tried to get his bearings.

"Claire didn't say anything. Said it was not her place to tell. We respected that. And Foggy an I don't really care what you had been going on. We only care about you."

Again, Matt felt his face, trying to understand something they didn't understand.

"Looking for your glasses, buddy?" Foggy reached out to the table and handed his glasses to him. Matthew nodded his thanks and put them on, but he still looked uneasy. Trying to hide it from them.

"Remember Claire being here?" She figured he wouldn't because he was pretty out of it, back then.

Matt shook his head. Totally lost and obviously terrified. One hand got down to his side and Karen stopped him.

"Be careful. Claire stitched it back up twice. The skin must be very tender. You'll need to take as much rest as possible, she said."

Again Matt tried to find her face, still fiddling with his glasses.

As he lay there, he looked younger. His hear stood up on all places, she would mark him as cute if he wasn't so unsettling confused right now.

"So you.. don't remember a thing after you walked in the office yesterday?" Foggy had to ask.

Matt startled at the voice right next to his face. Him startling never happened. He nearly got slapped in the face with one of the poor man's fists.

"Wow, easy. Sorry." Matt swallowed hard as he tried to catch his breath. Finally easing down Matt shook his head to Foggy. Nearly looked like he was about to cry.

"No… I.. my head… Sorry. Also sorry for…," Matt swallowed hard again. A tear rolled down from behind his glasses. All he wanted now was to be invisible. He couldn't do it. Not now.

Foggy and Karen would be mad at him for not telling them about his secret life as the black hooded man. They probably figured it all out by now. Karen, with her reporter-like mind, sharp as she was. He had lost them already. He was sure of it. They hated him now, for lying to them. But the fact was that he… really… really needed them right now. For he felt so alone.

"Sorry…" he whispered again.

But they didn't get mad at him.

Instead he felt both hands on him. They cared about him.

"It's okay, Matty," he heard Foggy. Not a single hint of anger in his tone.

Karen sighed.

"We were so worried about you. Never left your side."

It was sweet of them. It made him so relieved, he even relaxed a bit. The pain slowly subsided.

"Going back to sleep?" he heard Karen ask. Not even realizing he had closed his eyes he shook his head.

"Just… resting my eyes," he whispered. He smiled weakly, knowing it would sound weird coming from him. He was unable to use his powers. Still blinded. Must be the meds.

There was a long comfortable pause.

Then Matt sniffed.

"So.. Chinese… is there any left?" the poor man whispered. A hint of a smile crept on his lips. Making the room lighten up.

"Yes.. in fact… we do. Want some?" Foggy grinned as he walked to the fridge.

"I actually was counting on it."

Karen slowly helped Matt into a sitting position, without damaging the stitches.

Matt rubbed his eyes for a bit and heaved a sigh, giving himself time to adjust. They could tell he was still in a lot of pain but before doing something about that he had to get something in his stomach first.

It was good to see him up. After all that had happened.

"Just a few bites and we are out of your hair, alright?" Karen said, seeing the doubtful look when Matt took the small box container. He shook his head to that.

"It's okay, Karen. It's not that there is a hole in my stomach," he joked. Or attempted. She laughed anyway.

He took a few bites before visibly getting nauseous. Gratefully downed some water and the pain meds without a fuss.

"Proud of you, buddy," Foggy told and patted on his back.

"Before I crash… Can I say something…" Matt asked. His voice still weak and broken.

"Of course," Karen then said.

Matt smiled.

"I am happy… having such good friends."

His words spoken from his heart.

It didn't matter as much as this.

He learned the lesson.

The faint voice from the above.

All of it did not matter more.

Than his friends.

Karen and Foggy…

And as soon as he was able to end this war. He would drop the towel.

…

…

The actual end of this story…

No more chapters.

A lot of grammars I presume.

Well, fuck it :3

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