Matthew trains his focus onto the approaching footsteps; one set belonging to yours, one to Foggy. He lets out a shuttering breath, rising from his office chair. Foggy opens the door to the old, office, immediately sucking in a breath. It smells dusty in here, more than it usually did when he had worked here. Foggy remembers the last time he was here. Shit, he remembers the first time he had stepped foot in this place with his best friend. It was the beginning of what was meant to be their future together.
When he sees Matthew exiting his office, Foggy presses a tight smile to his lips. You let out a breath, watching with relief. You're about to rush up to him but he Matthew angles his head towards the door, past your head. Foggy's wearing expensive cologne. His hair has some kind of mousse product, no doubt to maintain his professional look. On his suit, Matthew can detect a faint burnt smell - Foggy's had his suited pressed or ironed. When they were in law school, they always made fun of people who cared that much.
"Foggy," Matthew mumbles, his hands suddenly uncomfortable as he stands idly, "hi."
It's like you're barely there.
"Hey, Matt," Foggy greets casually, noticing the awkwardness that filters through the air between them, "there was a good number of reporters outside but we managed to escape."
"Reporters, really?" Matt scowls, his eyebrows pinching together in distress once again. He makes a note to speak to Karen, maybe she can give him some insight into anything the Bulletin or other publishers are going to print about you.
"Yeah," Foggy shrugs, seemingly unworried, "I mean, it'll be old news soon but you know reporters, they're drama-hungry animals."
A grin makes it's way to your face and you give Foggy a shrug, meeting his lighthearted expression, "Yeah. That's fair."
Foggy smiles gently, his eyes back on Matt, "It's good to see you, Murdock."
"Yeah, you too," Matt responds quickly, the honestly and longing dripping from his voice, "thank you for being here. It... really means a lot to me, Foggy."
"Yeah. Of course," Foggy smiles comfortably now, his eyes flicking to yours, "you did well, Y/N."
"Thanks," you sigh anxiously. His certain smile and assured demeanour does nothing to quell the way your heart is aching with worry.
"Yeah?" Matt perks up a little. You look at him. He looks tense.
"Yeah, she didn't give them anything to use against her - she answered honestly and confidently," Foggy nods, "she didn't let them intimidate her - though, they did try."
"Hm." Matthew lets out a huff of air, his chest sinking, "What did they ask?"
It isn't odd, seeing Matthew work at full lawyer mode with Foggy by his side. After all, you've been in a courtroom with them many times before. But this... this is different. It feels different. You feel like you could walk out or begin shouting, flailing your arms around like an animal, and no one would even bat an eye. They're too calm. It's unsettling. When the pair finish going through your interview with Officer Cain, Matthew rises to his feet once more.
"They think she's carrying out the murders yourself, that much is obvious," Matthew mutters, pacing back and forth in the office, "They asked about your whereabouts correlating to the most recent murders. They asked you about your initial interest with the Red Light Murders. What else, Foggy? Was there anything else?"
"Deacon," you speak up now, watching as Matt tenses up slightly, "They brought him up. But they only asked whether I thought he was guilty."
"What'd you say?"
"I told him she wouldn't answer as it has the potential to sway the departments bias," Foggy stated simply.
"Good," Matt nods at his friend, "they already know what she thinks, they just want to hear her say it so they can use it against her."
"Exactly," Foggy nods in agreement, catching your confused gaze, "they believe you're committing these acts and blaming them on Deacon."
"It wasn't just him," you glare down at your hands that rest on the table, "it's his entire... congregation. I mean, I'm the only person who cared enough to bring it to light and now they think I'm, what, just - showing off my own work?"
"Reporter turned killer," Foggy sighs, "seems like their story."
"Y/N," Matthew leans his hands upon the table. Foggy catches the way you snap your eyes towards Matthew, softening instantly at his soft tone. "There's a... a very real chance you'll be accused of these crimes, I just want you to be aware of that possibility."
"What?" You widen your eyes at him, your heart racing in your chest. The feeling to run has never been stronger. "N-No... What do you mean 'accused'? You mean charged with murder?"
"I don't think they have any evidence to charge her with," Foggy tells Matthew seriously, "I mean, they're grasping at straws because they need someone to scapegoat. Think about it: all they have is you're investigating the murders, you were a witness at one of them, and you know a few people who worked at The Ingénue."
"The NYPD have done worse with less. It wouldn't be the first time they've falsely convicted an innocent person," Matt murmurs in disgust, "they spoke to her today because she's a suspect."
"They- no, they'd need evidence to accuse me. They don't have anything on me." You look between the pair, "Is that why I'm not in handcuffs right now?"
"Pretty much. But they'll find anything they can." Matt admits.
"God," you whimper quietly. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you squeeze your eyes shut. This can't be happening.
Matthew can feel tears springing to your eyes as you try to blink them away. He turns back to his friend, "Foggy, speak to Cain, speak to Mahoney - find out what their plan is and get ahead of it."
"Woah, woah, aren't we jumping the gun a bit?" Foggy raises his hands in the air, looking between you and Matt, "They only questioned her."
Matthew turns to Foggy, a sudden lump in his dry throat. "I don't think the ones behind this are the cops, Foggy. The people after us are dangerous."
"Woah, what? What do you mean, 'after us'?" Foggys eyes flick between you and Matthew desperately, "After you for what?"
"Because we've been uncovering the Red Light Murders," Matt answers simply, not giving it a second thought to tell Foggy about what exactly has been going on while the pair have been on a 'break'.
Foggy whips his head towards you, "You know." Your eyes dart to Matt for a second but when he doesn't say anything, you look up at Foggy. A sly smile makes its way on Foggy's lips and you can't tell if it's astonishment or betrayal, "You know about his... his night-time-circus-act!"
"Yeah," you answer him with an understanding nod, "I know."
"And what, you've both been running around playing Mommy-Daddy vigilantes in Hells Kitchen?" Foggy tilts his head, eyes narrow.
"Uh," you give Foggy a judgemental look, eyebrows furrowing as you narrow your eyes, "no-"
"She came to me for help," Matthew admits gently, "I promised to see it through and that's what I'm going to do. You need to head to the station, Foggy."
"And you?" Foggy jumps to his feet, briefcase in hand, "Where do you think you're going?"
Matt lets out a breath, "I'm doing some investigating of my own. Call later, okay? Go."
With one last look, Foggy exits the office. The door bars the silence inside of the room, utterly suffocating you with it. Matthew places his cane down gently, hanging it off the back of a chair. A silence settles between the two of you. You're not sure what to say - what can be said?
"Sweetheart," Matt lets out a low hum, pacing towards you.
"Yeah?" You mumble quietly, eyebrows pinching upwards.
Matthew crouches down beside your seated figure, his hands resting lightly above your knees as he faces up, "I'm sorry that I couldn't be there."
"No. No, it's okay," you admit sheepishly, placing a hand on his, "I understand. Foggy explained. Conflict of interest. I... probably shouldn't have called you anyway. I didn't want to. I just- I had no one else."
"I want you to call me," he frowns, his thumb rubbing your knee, "for anything. Anything happens, you call me. Promise?"
"Okay. Promise." You hum quietly, "I will."
"I'm still your lawyer," he states plainly, "just behind closed doors."
"My lawyer in secret," you giggle, resting a hand on his stubbly cheek. as Matt stretches his arms out around you. He presses a hand to the back of your head and you peer up at him.
"Yeah," Matthew smiles, tilting his head towards your hand, "I just... I want you to know something. And I want you to really hear me this time, okay?"
"Yeah?" You frown up at him, "What is it, Matty?"
"I'm getting you out of this mess, I don't want you to doubt that," he swallows the lump in his throat, his left hand gripping your thigh tenderly, "we know who we're dealing with... but Deacon - he's the one who should be afraid. Not you. Never you."
"O-Okay." There are tears in your eyes when you squeeze them shut, holding back a breath.
Matthew hears you nod shakily and he smiles, "It's gonna be okay."
His gentle voice, coming out in a low whisper, breaks you. You place a hand over your mouth as a sob tears through you, hunching you into yourself slightly. Matthew rises, hands immediately around your shoulders as your body shakes gently.
"It's okay, it's okay," he mumbles against your forehead, frowning with concern, "I'm fixing this. I'm here."