Chapter Text
All Karen wants is a decent night’s sleep. She had hoped that once Wilson Fisk was behind bars, her nightmares would stop. But they haven’t. Some nights Fisk comes to kill her, others she sees Wesley, a look of blank surprise on his face as bullet holes pierce his chest. On the worst nights, Matt and Foggy are killed in a variety of ways, and she’s helpless to do anything but watch. Those are the nights she wakes up screaming, and can only stop the shaking by drinking herself numb.
Exhaustion is becoming her normal state, slowing her body, fogging her mind. Anxiety gnaws at her, and the least stress has her on the verge of tears. Her usual response to stress is anger, but lately she can’t summon up the energy for anger.
She’s still managing to go through the motions of her life, so far. She drags herself into the office, does her work, and tries to banter with Foggy as if nothing’s wrong. He’s easier to fool than Matt is—for a blind guy, Matt is awfully perceptive.
Matt can tell that something is very wrong with Karen. He can sense her condition in the minute tremors in her voice, the dragging of her footsteps, the smell of stress hormones in her perspiration. The smell of fear. Sometimes the smell of alcohol leaking from her pores, persisting through soap and toothpaste and mouthwash.
He’s worried. Some days Foggy notices that Karen’s not herself, but he seems willing to accept her thin excuses for her tiredness. Matt knows better, but he can’t admit it without telling her about his enhanced senses, so he says nothing. But he’s starting to feel like shit about it. She’s in bad shape. She needs help, and it’s clear she’s not going to ask for it. He cares for her, more than he’s ever told her, and he does nothing while she slowly disintegrates, because he’s afraid to tell her his secret. He’s disgusted with himself, and finally he can’t keep silent any longer.
Foggy has gone home for the day, but Karen and Matt ate takeout at their desks and have kept working until late. But now they’re packing up. Karen dreads the thought of going home, but she also dreads being alone with Matt when he isn’t focused on work. Once, she would have welcomed it. But continuous stress has ground out of her any possibility of desire, and now she only wants to escape his attention.
And sure enough, when he emerges from his office, he’s wearing the expression of concern she’s been trying so hard to avoid. His dark glasses are tucked in his pocket, she can read his expression all too easily.
“Karen—“ He steps toward her and puts his hand on her arm. She flinches away, trying to conceal the fact that she’s trembling with exhaustion, and takes refuge in babble, practically running for the door.
“Okay well, that’s it for tonight, then, I’ll see you tomorrow, bye—“
“Karen!” The anguish in his voice pulls her up short. Then, quieter, “Karen, please. Please, don’t run away from me. I only want to help you.”
“I don’t need any help, thanks. I’m fine.”
“You’re lying.” It’s said without anger, just a bleak, unhappy statement of fact. “You haven’t been fine for weeks now. Please don’t run away. I won’t—I won’t ask you any questions. But isn’t there anything I can do?”
She drifts back a step or two toward him. She’s so very tired, and tired of pretending. It’s almost a relief, that he’s seen through her. But no, there isn’t anything he can do. Her breath catches on something almost a sob, and she covers her mouth with her hands.
He steps closer. “You’re not alone, Karen. You told me that once, and you didn’t ask me any questions. Will you let me do the same for you?” He doesn’t touch her again, but he extends an arm toward her. She takes another step.
“No questions?” it comes out in a choked whisper.
“No questions. I won’t ask, I don’t have any right to ask. You know there’s things I’ve kept from you.” Yes, she does know that. And somehow, that makes it easier to trust him now. They’re both keeping secrets; it makes them equals in a way, it puts them on the same level. She reaches out to him, eyes filling with tears, and buries her face against his shoulder as his arms go around her.
For a while she sobs quietly, while Matt tries to think of something comforting to say. But not knowing what’s wrong makes it difficult. He settles for repeating, “You’re not alone. I’m here, Karen. Whatever it is, you don’t ever have to suffer like this all by yourself.” He strokes her hair, rubs her shoulders and back, and feels how tense her muscles are. How long has it been since she truly relaxed? What is she afraid of?
“If only I could sleep,” she whispers raggedly, and maybe there is something he can do for her after all. He waits until her sobs have quieted, her breathing calmed back to normal.
“Karen, where do you feel safe?”
“Here.” He thinks about that.
“Here, at the office? Or…or here, with me?”
“Both,” she answers, without hesitation, even though a moment before she had thought she didn’t feel safe anywhere.
“Would you like to come and stay at my place tonight? I might be able to help you sleep.”
“How?”
“By helping you relax. Your muscles are like rock. My sense of touch is, um, pretty sensitive, I can feel where you’re all knotted up and I can work those knots loose for you.” Oh god, he’s basically saying Come home with me and let me give you a back rub, but she seems to realize he’s not suggesting anything inappropriate. At least, she continues to lean on him, breathing calmly.
He plunges on. “That should help you fall asleep. And if you wake up during the night, you won’t be alone. If you think that might help.” He’s treading carefully here, he may suspect she’s having nightmares, but she hasn’t actually said so, and he can’t ask.
“That would help, I think.” She hesitates. She doesn’t want him to see her shaking and sick from the dreams she knows will come. But would that really be so much worse than the collapse he’s just witnessed here? And, she realizes, he does comfort her. His voice, his arms, his company, no questions asked. Rest. Oh god, rest.
She takes a deep breath. “Yes. I would love that. Thank you, Matt.” She steps back from his embrace. He smiles a little and nods.
“All right then. Let’s go.”
—————————————————————————
Back at Matt’s apartment, he gets out a T-shirt and sweatpants for her to sleep in, and a toothbrush.
“Do you want a shower? It might help relax you.”
“Yeah, okay. Thanks.” He finds her a clean towel while she rummages in her purse for a hair clip, an elastic, anything she can use to put her hair up to keep it dry. In the shower, the hot water warming her weary muscles, she thinks distantly that there’s something weirdly intimate about being naked in someone else’s bathroom, but finds she doesn’t care. She doesn’t have the energy for trivialities, and if Matt’s acting like this whole situation is perfectly normal, then that’s what it is.
While Karen showers, Matt brings a blanket and pillow out to the sofa in the living room. They haven’t discussed where he’s going to sleep, but he doesn’t want to make things weird, and sharing a bed might do exactly that. And anyway, if she’s used to sleeping alone then she’ll probably sleep better with the bed to herself. If she does have nightmares, he’ll still be able to hear her from the sofa if she needs him.
He turns down the bed, and when she emerges from the bathroom he has her lie down on the sheets on her stomach. He runs his hands over her back from her hips up to her neck, feeling where the tension lies.
“Let me know if I’m pressing too hard.”
She makes a mmmmmff sound that he takes for agreement, and he sets to work. He takes his time, trying to be gentle but thorough. He does need to lean into some spots pretty hard, but she doesn’t complain. She does moan, though, as each knot releases, which is…distracting. He’s very aware of the fact that he is touching her body, only a soft old T-shirt between between his skin and hers, feeling her respond to his touch, relaxing under his fingers. He sternly redirects his wayward thoughts. Tonight is about helping her get the rest she needs so desperately, nothing else.
When he’s finished with her back, he runs his hands up into the softness of her hair, gently moving his fingers over her scalp, feeling for tension. She sighs out an audible breath, sounding sleepy. Good. He gives her shoulders a squeeze, then draws the blankets up to cover her.
Karen feels heavy, half-asleep already. There are aches in her back where Matt’s fingers have dug in, but that doesn’t matter. She turns on her back as he pulls the covers up over her, and takes his hands.
“Thank you. I already feel better than I have in weeks, I…thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Go to sleep now. I need to get ready for bed, and do a few other things.” She notices then that he’s still in his work clothes. “If you need anything, just call. I’ll hear you.”
“Okay.” He leaves the bedroom, and she listens to him quietly moving around the apartment, doing whatever household tasks he needs to, whatever parts of his normal routine she’s interrupted. She says his name once, not loudly, to see if he really can hear her all the way in the kitchen, and he answers immediately and comes back into the bedroom.
“What is it?”
“Nothing. I was just checking.” Apparently he finds that an acceptable answer, he smiles and puts a hand briefly on her shoulder and then goes back out.
He realizes belatedly that an ordinary blind person probably wouldn’t have been able to touch her shoulder that accurately, with no fumbling, but she doesn’t seem to have noticed. He gets ready for bed, listening to Karen’s breathing and heartbeat as they drift into the slow rhythms of sleep, then curls up on the sofa.
Some time later, she jerks awake with a strangled gasp. For a moment she doesn’t know where she is and starts to panic, then she remembers. She’s about to call out for Matt, but there’s no need, he’s already in the room.
“Karen? Karen, it’s me.” He speaks gently and crosses the room slowly, so as not to startle her. She flings her arms out toward him and gasps out his name, and he slips into the bed and takes her in his arms. Her breathing is ragged, her heart going like a jackhammer. She curls up into a ball, and he wraps himself around her as much as he can. He breathes slow and deep, hoping that his calmness will help to calm her. She doesn’t cry, but her uneven breaths are almost sobs, and she grips him hard enough to bruise.
“You’re safe, Karen. You’re safe. I’m here, no one’s going to hurt you.” He pitches his voice low and soothing, and rubs her back. And gradually she relaxes, breathing deeper, her heartbeat slowly growing calm and steady.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No! You said—“
“I said no questions. I’m sorry, I only meant…some people get over nightmares by telling someone what they dreamed.”
“It wouldn’t help.”
“I’m sorry.” They lie together in silence for a few more minutes.
“Were you sleeping on the couch?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t go back there, please. Stay here with me.”
“All right.” She sighs and uncurls a little, shifting against him to find a more comfortable position. He stretches out but keeps his arms around her, and they both drift off back to sleep.
When Karen wakes again, daylight is coming in pale through the windows. It’s early, but it’s morning. She stretches and yawns, and realizes to her amazement that she’s woken up naturally, easily, not jolted out of sleep by dreams or the alarm. How long has it been since she woke feeling relaxed?
She turns her head, and sees Matt lying beside her, eyes closed. His hair is a mess, his jaw covered in stubble. She blushes, remembering that she fell asleep in his arms, but at the same time she feels a rush of affection and gratitude. She hasn’t slept so well since she shot Wesley, and it’s all Matt’s doing.
Matt listens as Karen slips out of bed and gets dressed. He keeps still, pretending to sleep, until she comes and puts a hand on his arm.
“Matt?”
“Mmmmmf.” He turns toward her and opens his eyes a crack.
“It’s morning, but it’s still early. I’m going to go home, change my clothes and get ready for work.”
“Okay. See you later.” His voice is soft and throaty, blurred with sleepiness. He smiles and squeezes her hand.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
“Welcome.” His eyes are closed again.
His sheets smell like Karen. After she leaves, he curls into her side of the bed and dozes until his alarm goes off.
—————————————————————————
It’s a good day at work, for all of them. Karen feels much better, her state of relaxation persisting even though she knows she’ll probably sleep badly again tonight. Matt and Foggy are happy that she’s happy, and the three of them talk and laugh like they haven’t done in too long.
At the end of the day, Foggy’s the first to leave again, meeting Marci for drinks. This time Karen is glad to be left alone with Matt. His office door is open, and she goes and leans in the doorway.
“Hey, Matt.”
“Hey, Karen. You leaving?”
“Um, I wanted to thank you. Again. For last night. It’s made such a difference, even if it was just one night. I’ve been wound up tight for so long, to finally relax is…it’s such a relief. Even if I have nightmares again tonight—“ and I probably will—“at least I’m not going into it already sick and worn out. And, and, you did this. For me. I couldn’t have done it myself. So. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’m glad it helped. And you know, it doesn’t have to be just one night.”
“Oh, I couldn’t—“
“I’m not saying you should come over every night, that might be…” Awkward? Wonderful? “But if it gets that bad again, now we know it works. If you really need it, you can have that again. Just let me know.”
Karen is touched, but also feels like she couldn’t possibly deserve so much kindness. Almost as if he knows what she’s thinking, he continues.
“And even if you never do, maybe it will help just knowing that the choice is there. Trouble can be easier to bear if you know you have options. Just bear it in mind, okay?”
“I will. Thank you.”
He hesitates. “I thought of something else that could help, if you want. I know how comforting it can be sometimes, just to hear a friendly voice. I can’t see faces, so voices mean a lot to me.” He smiles a little. “If you’re home alone at night, and…and you think you’d like to just talk for a while, you can call me. I don’t mind.”
“After a nightmare, you mean? In the middle of the night?”
“Yes.”
“But Matt, then I’d be keeping you awake.”
“But I sleep okay most nights, and right now I’d say you don’t. I can afford to lose a little sleep, and I’m willing to if it helps you sleep better. I’m just putting it out there, so you know you have the option, even if you never use it.” Please, he wants to say, Call me instead of drinking. But he can’t let on that he knows she sometimes drinks herself back to sleep. All he can do is make the offer, and hope she takes him up on it.