#fo/ggy nelson

[fuckin-sick-bih]

If you’re feeling it, I’d love to see Matt Murdock with a cold being his fiesty vigilante self

So like... lowkey Matty is one of my faves to write and I'm thrilled I finally got an ask for him!!! Hope I did him justice, pun intended lol Also hope you don't mind a few other characters just for the sake of moving the plot along and dialog.

Fandom: Marvel Summary: It starts in court when Matt can't seem to keep his head on straight, coughing a little, but when he goes out for the night things just keep getting worse. Until a familiar someone really sends him home. CW: Threats of bodily harm, threat of contagion (none actually depicted, Matt is just a shit who likes to bark not bite in this) Word Count: 1.5k (I... got carried away ok?) Author Note: Hiya! Bit of a disclaimer, I am not blind and have never been blind. I'm just active in the disabled community and enjoy absorbing information from mutuals who are blind or self-identify as visually impaired. Matt's sensory stuff I base a bit more on my experiences with Autism since his senses are heightened. MINORS DNI

Court had been a wreck today and Matt just wanted to get back to the office. Normally, a courtroom was just one of those places where Matt could easily slip on the imaginary lawyer mask he’d crafted for himself from years of practice. Today was… not one of those days. He fumbled, his brain felt sluggish and hazy, he was tired, his throat itched, and he found himself reaching for his water more often than usual. Even pausing a few times during his closing speech to cough into a closed fist.

The feeling of Foggy’s concerned gaze burning into his back was unmistakable as he swept his cane back and forth along the smooth tile while walking briskly away from his law partner before he could say anything. Foggy was a wonderful friend but he was a worrier. In his rush to escape, the tip of his cane caught on something, and the handle jabbed him hard in the stomach making him grunt with the force.

“Matt.”

Oh, he knew that voice. The muscles of his jaw tensed, pressing his molars together a little more firmly before forcing a smile through the current discomfort marinating in his body. Nothing he wasn’t used to. “Karen? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you-” His breath caught on his ticklish throat, and he paused to cough downward into his fist before continuing. “Shouldn’t you be back at the office?”

Something like a sigh left her, “Well, I would be if Foggy hadn’t been texting me all through court that you were struggling and coughing, Matt.” She insisted, sounding concerned.

Even when not actively on high alert, Matt was always consciously hyperaware of his senses and surroundings whether he liked it or not. The moment Karen decided to lift her hand to press her cool palm to his forehead, Matt knew it was coming and braced himself not to lean into the touch. As much as he craved the sensation. Affection. And yet it burned. It was too much. He recoiled from it after a moment with another forced smile.

“Karen, I’m fine. Just a little cough. I’ll be fine after some sleep.” Matt said, figuring there was no sense in lying when he’d just coughed in front of her already. He sniffed, feeling his nose starting to run and that’s when the dread began to set in. A cough was fine, but congestion? That could screw him over for days.

Nelson was coming up behind him and carefully taking his arm so Matt lifted his cane up to let his best friend begin to guide him instead. “There’s a taxi waiting out front to take you home, man. Go get some rest. Actual rest. I’m serious, if I hear you’ve been out of bed, I’m coming to kick your ass. I mean it.”

So, Matt went home. Staying home was the last thing he was going to do if he was getting sick.

The moment Matt couldn’t feel the sun on his skin anymore, he left his apartment in his suit ready to leave a lasting impact for a few days just in case this cold left him worse for wear. Lucky for him it was a busy night and he’s never been so grateful that his cowl leaves his nose uncovered because once the cold night air hit his nose it was like the sneezes just wouldn’t stop.

“You’re trying my- HiD’tshUH! patience. So, I’ll ask again. Where’s the warehouse?” Matt rasps out, sounding exhausted and just utterly done with the man he’s got pinned to the brick wall before him.

The man, Tyler he’s learned is his name, sneers and spits what Matt can only assume is a mixture of blood and saliva onto his front. “Fuck you, man! I’m not tellin’ you shit! Go back to, mama, and play more dress up, freak!”

It’s getting dangerous to be out and Matt knows it. The shapes are swimming and blurring together in how he can “see”. Nothing is crisp and clear anymore because of the congestion settling in and muddling his senses. He sniffles a little to try and help it but it does nothing, if anything it makes it worse. Sure, Matt’s good, but he’s still blind. As in, almost no residual vision blind. Just the occasional bright light or neon makes it through. Tyler needs to talk and talk fast so Matt can finish up for the night and then find his way home.

A smirk curls at Matt’s lips, “Tyler,” He sniffles. “You tell me, or next time I sneeze I’m headbutting you so damn hard I’m sending one of these little horns on my helmet into your skull.” He threatens, nostrils flaring ever so slightly just below where the cowl ends. “Hihh… Shit…”

“You wouldn’t-” Tyler said uncertainly and while Matt was a little preoccupied with how his nose was itching and the way it was working deeper into his sinuses, he could still hear the uncertainty in the other’s voice.

Matt leaned his head back a little like he was gearing up to strike or sneeze or both in this case. “Bet I would. Fuck burns- hi’ihh… ihh!”

There was milliseconds to choose before suddenly the other man blurted out, “Fifty-second street down near the docks! Don’t hurt me anymore, man!” And with that, Matt let the other slump to the ground while he turned aside to sneeze against a gloved knuckle.

“HiPT’SHuh! Hit’shhuh! Hihh… huh… Ugh, fuck lost it.” Matt grumbles as the last sneeze escaped him, grimacing at the feeling of damp leather, nylon, and neoprene up against his sensitive cold ridden nose. The individual strands of the fabric he could still pick out and made his skin crawl just thinking about them. He shook himself off, able to hear Tyler’s running footsteps in the distance vaguely.

Getting to 52nd street was… a chore to say the least. Usually, running rooftops was no issue. Now, Matt felt unsteady. Unsure of himself. The congestion was getting worse and Matt’s ability to orient himself with it. Like being trapped underwater and not knowing which way was up and which way was down.

To top it all off, he’d begun to shiver and sweat which logically he knew meant he had a fever. Though he couldn’t be all that bothered to think too hard about it right now. Making it easier on himself, he’d cut the power to the warehouse to drench the place in darkness before going in. It set the men in a panic, a few knowing what was coming, and went running. Matt went for them first. The others he picked off slowly.

Heavy boot falls as he was dragging the unconscious men into the center of the warehouse making him freeze. He knew those steps, but God Almighty, that was the last person he wanted to talk to right now.

“Hey, Red. You look like shit.”

A sigh that scraped his throat and to his irritation also seemed to rattle slightly in his chest, making him cough harshly before he could reply. “Fradk.” He rasped out. “Did I beat you to it for odce?”

Something like a scoff escaped Frank, “While sick too, looks like it. The fuck you doin’ out here, Red? You look ready to keel over. I knew you were some kinda masochist but nothing like this.”

That shocks a laugh out of Matt which only serves to make him double over with more coughs, pressing his gloved hand to his mouth and nose as he tries to reel it in. “Headi’g hobe after this. Probise. Just… deeded…” His voice is trailing off and with his cowl covering his face it’s impossible to tell that his eyelids are fluttering. His nostrils still flare though.

“HiD’TSHEW! EISHEW! Huh… d’no c’bod… hih-!” Matt rubs furiously at his nose with a gloved hand, very sure his nose is that same stupid red color Foggy always made fun of him for in college whenever he got sick. “Hixx’TSHEW! Shit-”

The half stifle makes him stumble in his off-balanced state and he nearly falls if not for the hand on his arm suddenly. “Go home, Red.” Frank’s voice is suddenly much closer, and Matt is alarmed at the fact that he hadn’t even heard or felt the other so much as move. “Call the cops. I’ll sit on the nearby rooftop, and make sure none of ‘em escape for you.”

Matt sniffles again, keeping his gloved hand pressed to his nose for a moment before giving up and dropping it. He’s too tired to care what he looks like and he’s pretty sure Frank has seen worse than a runny nose. Besides his nose is so blocked up he can barely even smell that cologne Frank usually wears, maybe letting it run will do him some good.

“D’no killi’g.” He instructs the other. “I kdow where you live. I’ll bake sure you catch this.” He threatens exhaustedly, dialing the cops before leaving Frank to watch over the scene while he heads home to claw his way out of his suit, shower, make tea, and pass out before work the next morning.