Thank God. He almost says it out loud. "Hi sweetheart," there's clear strain even though he's fighting to not double over right now. "Are you doing anything important?"
He doesn't even need to ask. As soon as she hears the strain in his voice, she's on her feet. "I'll be right there. Where are you?" She'll just talk right over him if that's okay and even if it isn't.
"Good news is that I'm not bleeding." Somehow putting that to rest here and now is the thing to do. "I'm in Nexus. I can wait. I'm just--" Matt huffs out and shifts again. He rubs his stomach even though there's no reason why that should help. "I'm not feeling well."
"Stop being stupid, Matt. As if there's anything more important than you." Take that to heart, Matthew Murdock. Engrave it there as a reminder of what you've made yourself to her. "I'll be there as soon as I can. We can keep talking on the way. Tell me what happened?"
Maybe don't tell her what happened unless you want her to try and smack around a demigod.
"I love you too, Verity." And it makes him smile through the haze that has scrambled his senses scrambled. The full warming feeling of knowing, really knowing she means it almost makes his eyes well up.
...or just well up. Matt sniffs and rubs his eyes, cradling the phone to his ear. "I just went for a walk. Just wanted to go somewhere without out a fuss. It hit me hard and fast. I had a flu shot."
Ver pauses briefly, forcing herself to take a breath and fight back the rising wave of panic. "I do love you," she replies softly, her voice low and tone gentle.
He can hear when she's out of the building and into street traffic. Her breathing makes it obvious when she switches from walking to running. "Oh, honey, you'll be okay. I'll take care of you. I know being sick is hard on you, but look at it this way: you're going to have me at your beck and call until you get better. I'll rub your feet and massage your shoulders and cook you whatever you want and you can watch all your favorite movies."
A true sacrifice for her, given how much movies make her head hurt.
The words are like a touch. He knew the right choice was to call her. A slow breath in and a slow breath out as he keeps still even in his discomfort.
"Just seeing you and getting home make me think I'll be on the right road to recovery." Matt adjusts the volume on his phone. The city in the background is garish as usual. He just can't take it additionally.
Movies? He smiles weakly. "Honey, I don't have to watch anything. And then you'll be not feeling great. Why spread it around?"
Calling her is always the right choice. She'd like if someday it became the default one, too. Anything that goes wrong, she wants to be there to help him fix it.
"Yeah? I'm not quite that magic," she points out; it's a gentle attempt to tease him. "But I'll sure try." For him, she'd do just about anything. He needs a magical girlfriend who can heal him with a kiss? Well, he's got that already. But she can't do anything about the background noise; sorry, Matt.
Yes, movies. Even those explodey ones if he wants. "A little headache won't kill me, honey. I'm resilient." And at the end of the day, she'll be able to curl up next to him and get a little peaceful sleep. It's a fair trade.
Calling Foggy would have been the default. His brain is rerouting to Verity specifically. She makes everything better just being at the other end of the line.
"Not quite? You're very magic. I mean something's happening." Matt has no idea how on the button he is about that. Ugh his overly active stomach makes him shift again.
Die Hard has other virtues besides explosions. "We both don't need headaches. You're plenty resilient. That's true. I won't argue that."
He huffs and takes in the smell, the sound of the trees and chatter. "There's a small stone wall I'm close to. Uh. Gardens. It's up away from that place we got the cushions for the couch."
Everything? She must be more magic than she thinks. But she'll take it.
"I can't do magic over the phone, my love." That's not to say she can't do anything to help. The value of emotional comfort can't be overstated in these instances. That, she can provide in spades. "But I can remind you that I love you and will be there soon.
No doubt there are many virtues to all the movies he likes. But she never gives him grief about not being able to appreciate the color of her hair; he shouldn't taunt her for the ways she's blind either. "Okay, that's a direction at least. And not too far. Okay. Let's think about something pleasant. I got a new album I think you'll like. It's Mozart interpreted by Cuban jazz musicians."
Love is surely something magic like if not magic itself. She radiates that his way. And Matty has it flowing her way. He believes in it as much as his God and Verity.
"Maybe not. I wouldn't even be surprised if it was on your to-do list." One of the to-do lists. He grumbles a little finally standing again even though his feet have come to hurt. Why do they hurt now? What is all of this?
People are blind in many ways. They have a sweet trust and acceptance for it. And taunts are always playful without any intention or real harm. Their perspectives then give other aspects to appreciate. The texture of her hair is something he adores in a way that he can't for color.
The distraction is oh so welcomed. "That sounds like it would be really something. Is it on vinyl?"
God, Verity, and Love? She's in lofty circles these days. Love is magic, that's true, and she can do that from any distance. She prefers when there's no distance.
"We-elll... you know I love a good project. But if I can learn to do remote healing, how'll you get all your kisses better?" There are weighty implications to this idea. Philosophically, ecumenically, allegorically (that's for each man to decide for himself). The grumbling makes her go quiet, the better to listen--and worry.
She never taunts him. Teases, yes. Never taunts.
"Vinyl and digital. I think you're really going to like it. We can listen to it once I get you home, we can curl up and have a nice cuddle, yeah?"
Three things that keep repeating like a waltz that keeps his heart beating. Lofty? She has taken it like a fish to water. Hearing her, knowing she's on his way is making Matt fight for his patience.
"I'll want those too. To seal the deal. One right now would be nice." Having her with him and being in her presence is superior to other options. His weary head can ponder all of the angles another time. Matt taps his cane and doesn't shuffle far, it's an idle motion. One that he feels like is a good and bad idea. Still seasick for no reason at all.
It couldn't have been something he ate. Verity always has fresh ingredients. And it's been some time since he slacked enough to eat some very horrible fast food. It has only been moderately awful. Oh... he did get something from a bodega this week. That was days ago though.
Like the waltz, she's learning she can do it backward and in heels. She can live with her and love being the little steps, but she's pretty sure they'd be happier if he rearranged that melody a little.
"Oh, you want those too? Greedy boy," she teases fondly. Then she'll make a smoochie noise into the phone. Yes, she knows it's ridiculous, she's doing it anyway. He can hear her covering ground better than she can hear him; he knows the pace she can set. There's a jangling of familiar bells, she must be passing that cheesemonger they like. Not much further. If he turns his senses away from the phone he might hear her soon.
No, it definitely wasn't anything she fed him.
"Okay. We'll do that. And then you can take a nice long soak in the tub." A bathtub big enough for him to stretch out in is a luxury almost unheard-of in Hell's Kitchen.
This isn't strictly ballroom. New steps come and they go. Matt has fallen into this warm acceptance of this trinity. As they go more comes into play. If she can go backwards and in heels they have to proceed sure footed.
Smoochie noises warm his face in a far more controlled, pronounced way he is happy for. Sickness can't stop how he feels. "I do. I mean, I've grown so accustomed to them. To be without them... unthinkable."
Matt holds the phone away. He knows those shoes. His heart lightens and he turns his feet her way. Usually any time he would be racing that way. The first impulse is do to so. Turning around so fast and there are the spins that he thought had given up on him. "My sickness wouldn't know what hit it."
He's been the most sure-footed guide she could have hoped for in everything he's taught her. No complaints at all. They've both stumbled sometimes, but they do a good job of catching each other.
That's why she's willing to make smoochie noises for him. Because she knows it makes him so happy, she can hear it in his voice. "You'll never go without anything I can give you, honey, you know that."
The racing toward each other and the joyful kisses when they meet are always nice, but she's not expecting them today. "Of course not. It's up against two bonafide superheroes, after all. Ah!" The phone clicks off; she's spotted him now and puts on a last burst of speed to reach him.
She's careful to stop before he feels any of her considerable momentum and finishes the approach at a more sedate pace, hands touching his arms, then shoulders, then his face. "Here you are. My poor love."
And everything else he's learned along the way right with her. Verity is like no other person he has known. She's in a class all her own. She is able to have him learn in his own way this move and that. Stumbling and so far not falling. Falling further in love is the kind preferred.
Matt chuckles a little. Being fussed over so much in this way with this much understanding...he never ever knew what he was missing out on. "You'll never be without an opportunity. I'm always around." Or exceedingly close by.
Oh, there's her voice. It travels to his ear first and is echoed through the phone line. Footsteps, heartbeat, it's a slow, welcomed awareness of her presence as it comes closer. Matt tucks away his phone and holds his arms out. A tiny, tiny bit of him feels foolish that he's not bleeding and in this much need. "Hi baby." His smile lifts and he visibly relaxes. "You're my lifesaver." Her fingers on his face make his eyes half shut. "Do I feel hot? I'm hot."
Learning together is a lot of fun. She's not going to complain about having the chance to learn this dance with him. Definitely not complaining about falling further in love. In that sense, she'll fall as long and hard as she can. No need for a safety net.
He's not, but she won't fuss at him about it right now. It's more important to be gentle when he's not feeling well. Seeing him relax just having her around makes her heart feel funny. She wraps one arm around him to pull him into a hug while pressing the back of her other hand to his forehead. "Mm, no, you don't feel hot. You look hot, but you always do."
Forehead checked she reaches up to nuzzle his cheek a little and give him a kiss. "Come on, let's take you home."
He's falling a little more right now as they speak. The music keeps playing, they keep stepping. His heartbeat feels lighter.
Both arms wrap around her and his head dips to the touch of her hand. "Hah," he laughs and is about to shake his head at her when it stops. Nngh. "I keep getting dizzy." It's a sensation anyone would hate. His sense of up is entirely reliant on equilibrium.
"Okay, thank you so much." Though all she's done is just show up. "What uh..what were you up to?"
Totally unscientific temperature check done, Ver wraps both arms securely around him now. He may proceed with cuddling, leaning, or sprawling on her; whatever he needs. She can take him. Even a doubtful laugh like that is a victory for her when he's not feeling well; the fact he can't return the volley is more of an indication to her that something's wrong than any fever would be. "Lean on me, honey. Or I can carry you if you want."
She hums at the thanks; she hasn't done more than show up. Silly boy. "Oh, just some paperwork that can wait until tomorrow. You know I like to get ahead is all."
There is no bottom to this. It keeps going and going like a fountain or a well, an endless supply. How'd he get by day to day without her love? Matt's knack for specifics are starting to fail there. It was just not pleasant.
Cuddling commences, easy and lovingly. His current condition has made it a very cautious movement, still trying out what does and doesn't make him feel sick. "I'll try and walk." Though he's not holding any reservations at her carrying him, dragging him so long as the are where he needs to be.
How either of them survived long enough to find each other is one of life's great mysteries. She's not very concerned about solving it. Her energies are better spent enjoying this miracle they have.
Ver can transition relatively smoothly from hugging and cuddling to snugging up against his side to support him. She keeps an arm around his waist, her other hand holding onto his arm around her shoulders. Nice and secure, nice and safe. And if he stumbles she can scoop him up with relative ease from this position. "Okay. No rush. There's lots of places to sit down along the way if you need to."
She can't help nuzzling his shoulder while they walk. He knows how cat-like she is sometimes, in need of affectionate touches whenever they're together. "Did you enjoy your walk before you got sick?"
The here and the now is their fixed point, their paradise building on hopes for more later. It is a miracle.
He feels safe and secure even while pained and unsteady. The business about his feet its like they're swollen up. Is this what an allergy feels like? "The more we stop then the longer it'll take to be home." Matt is putting in a conscious effort to keep his pace steady.
Nuzzle for nuzzle. Anywhere he can touch gets an extra pet. "I was. The weather's more predictable here. I can see how it puts everyone in a good mood."
RING RING RING
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She has no reason to believe this is soon to become painful and hilarious.
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Nurse Verity Rides Again!
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Maybe don't tell her what happened unless you want her to try and smack around a demigod.
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...or just well up. Matt sniffs and rubs his eyes, cradling the phone to his ear. "I just went for a walk. Just wanted to go somewhere without out a fuss. It hit me hard and fast. I had a flu shot."
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He can hear when she's out of the building and into street traffic. Her breathing makes it obvious when she switches from walking to running. "Oh, honey, you'll be okay. I'll take care of you. I know being sick is hard on you, but look at it this way: you're going to have me at your beck and call until you get better. I'll rub your feet and massage your shoulders and cook you whatever you want and you can watch all your favorite movies."
A true sacrifice for her, given how much movies make her head hurt.
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"Just seeing you and getting home make me think I'll be on the right road to recovery." Matt adjusts the volume on his phone. The city in the background is garish as usual. He just can't take it additionally.
Movies? He smiles weakly. "Honey, I don't have to watch anything. And then you'll be not feeling great. Why spread it around?"
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"Yeah? I'm not quite that magic," she points out; it's a gentle attempt to tease him. "But I'll sure try." For him, she'd do just about anything. He needs a magical girlfriend who can heal him with a kiss? Well, he's got that already. But she can't do anything about the background noise; sorry, Matt.
Yes, movies. Even those explodey ones if he wants. "A little headache won't kill me, honey. I'm resilient." And at the end of the day, she'll be able to curl up next to him and get a little peaceful sleep. It's a fair trade.
"Do you know where you are right now?"
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"Not quite? You're very magic. I mean something's happening." Matt has no idea how on the button he is about that. Ugh his overly active stomach makes him shift again.
Die Hard has other virtues besides explosions. "We both don't need headaches. You're plenty resilient. That's true. I won't argue that."
He huffs and takes in the smell, the sound of the trees and chatter. "There's a small stone wall I'm close to. Uh. Gardens. It's up away from that place we got the cushions for the couch."
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"I can't do magic over the phone, my love." That's not to say she can't do anything to help. The value of emotional comfort can't be overstated in these instances. That, she can provide in spades. "But I can remind you that I love you and will be there soon.
No doubt there are many virtues to all the movies he likes. But she never gives him grief about not being able to appreciate the color of her hair; he shouldn't taunt her for the ways she's blind either. "Okay, that's a direction at least. And not too far. Okay. Let's think about something pleasant. I got a new album I think you'll like. It's Mozart interpreted by Cuban jazz musicians."
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"Maybe not. I wouldn't even be surprised if it was on your to-do list." One of the to-do lists. He grumbles a little finally standing again even though his feet have come to hurt. Why do they hurt now? What is all of this?
People are blind in many ways. They have a sweet trust and acceptance for it. And taunts are always playful without any intention or real harm. Their perspectives then give other aspects to appreciate. The texture of her hair is something he adores in a way that he can't for color.
The distraction is oh so welcomed. "That sounds like it would be really something. Is it on vinyl?"
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"We-elll... you know I love a good project. But if I can learn to do remote healing, how'll you get all your kisses better?" There are weighty implications to this idea. Philosophically, ecumenically, allegorically (that's for each man to decide for himself). The grumbling makes her go quiet, the better to listen--and worry.
She never taunts him. Teases, yes. Never taunts.
"Vinyl and digital. I think you're really going to like it. We can listen to it once I get you home, we can curl up and have a nice cuddle, yeah?"
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"I'll want those too. To seal the deal. One right now would be nice." Having her with him and being in her presence is superior to other options. His weary head can ponder all of the angles another time. Matt taps his cane and doesn't shuffle far, it's an idle motion. One that he feels like is a good and bad idea. Still seasick for no reason at all.
It couldn't have been something he ate. Verity always has fresh ingredients. And it's been some time since he slacked enough to eat some very horrible fast food. It has only been moderately awful. Oh... he did get something from a bodega this week. That was days ago though.
"Yes, yes please, honey."
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"Oh, you want those too? Greedy boy," she teases fondly. Then she'll make a smoochie noise into the phone. Yes, she knows it's ridiculous, she's doing it anyway. He can hear her covering ground better than she can hear him; he knows the pace she can set. There's a jangling of familiar bells, she must be passing that cheesemonger they like. Not much further. If he turns his senses away from the phone he might hear her soon.
No, it definitely wasn't anything she fed him.
"Okay. We'll do that. And then you can take a nice long soak in the tub." A bathtub big enough for him to stretch out in is a luxury almost unheard-of in Hell's Kitchen.
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Smoochie noises warm his face in a far more controlled, pronounced way he is happy for. Sickness can't stop how he feels. "I do. I mean, I've grown so accustomed to them. To be without them... unthinkable."
Matt holds the phone away. He knows those shoes. His heart lightens and he turns his feet her way. Usually any time he would be racing that way. The first impulse is do to so. Turning around so fast and there are the spins that he thought had given up on him. "My sickness wouldn't know what hit it."
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That's why she's willing to make smoochie noises for him. Because she knows it makes him so happy, she can hear it in his voice. "You'll never go without anything I can give you, honey, you know that."
The racing toward each other and the joyful kisses when they meet are always nice, but she's not expecting them today. "Of course not. It's up against two bonafide superheroes, after all. Ah!" The phone clicks off; she's spotted him now and puts on a last burst of speed to reach him.
She's careful to stop before he feels any of her considerable momentum and finishes the approach at a more sedate pace, hands touching his arms, then shoulders, then his face. "Here you are. My poor love."
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Matt chuckles a little. Being fussed over so much in this way with this much understanding...he never ever knew what he was missing out on. "You'll never be without an opportunity. I'm always around." Or exceedingly close by.
Oh, there's her voice. It travels to his ear first and is echoed through the phone line. Footsteps, heartbeat, it's a slow, welcomed awareness of her presence as it comes closer. Matt tucks away his phone and holds his arms out. A tiny, tiny bit of him feels foolish that he's not bleeding and in this much need. "Hi baby." His smile lifts and he visibly relaxes. "You're my lifesaver." Her fingers on his face make his eyes half shut. "Do I feel hot? I'm hot."
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He's not, but she won't fuss at him about it right now. It's more important to be gentle when he's not feeling well. Seeing him relax just having her around makes her heart feel funny. She wraps one arm around him to pull him into a hug while pressing the back of her other hand to his forehead. "Mm, no, you don't feel hot. You look hot, but you always do."
Forehead checked she reaches up to nuzzle his cheek a little and give him a kiss. "Come on, let's take you home."
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Both arms wrap around her and his head dips to the touch of her hand. "Hah," he laughs and is about to shake his head at her when it stops. Nngh. "I keep getting dizzy." It's a sensation anyone would hate. His sense of up is entirely reliant on equilibrium.
"Okay, thank you so much." Though all she's done is just show up. "What uh..what were you up to?"
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Totally unscientific temperature check done, Ver wraps both arms securely around him now. He may proceed with cuddling, leaning, or sprawling on her; whatever he needs. She can take him. Even a doubtful laugh like that is a victory for her when he's not feeling well; the fact he can't return the volley is more of an indication to her that something's wrong than any fever would be. "Lean on me, honey. Or I can carry you if you want."
She hums at the thanks; she hasn't done more than show up. Silly boy. "Oh, just some paperwork that can wait until tomorrow. You know I like to get ahead is all."
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Cuddling commences, easy and lovingly. His current condition has made it a very cautious movement, still trying out what does and doesn't make him feel sick. "I'll try and walk." Though he's not holding any reservations at her carrying him, dragging him so long as the are where he needs to be.
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Ver can transition relatively smoothly from hugging and cuddling to snugging up against his side to support him. She keeps an arm around his waist, her other hand holding onto his arm around her shoulders. Nice and secure, nice and safe. And if he stumbles she can scoop him up with relative ease from this position. "Okay. No rush. There's lots of places to sit down along the way if you need to."
She can't help nuzzling his shoulder while they walk. He knows how cat-like she is sometimes, in need of affectionate touches whenever they're together. "Did you enjoy your walk before you got sick?"
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He feels safe and secure even while pained and unsteady. The business about his feet its like they're swollen up. Is this what an allergy feels like? "The more we stop then the longer it'll take to be home." Matt is putting in a conscious effort to keep his pace steady.
Nuzzle for nuzzle. Anywhere he can touch gets an extra pet. "I was. The weather's more predictable here. I can see how it puts everyone in a good mood."
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