Devils and Angels

Chapter 1

79 hours earlier...

Matt threw his fist against the punching bag again and again.  Adrenaline surged through his entire body like electricity.  Fogwell's Gym surrounded him. 

"That kind of day, huh?" Foggy said.  He set his briefcase on the edge of the boxing ring. 

"I always train like this," Matt replied, punching the bag again with short breaths. 

"You just seem so...angry." 

Matt stopped, giving a smile and an airy laugh.  "You don't know anything about training, do you?"

"You've never told me!  Come on, why don't you show me how to throw some punches?  Beat in skulls."  Foggy smashed his fist against his palm.

"It's not that simple."

"How would I know?  You make it look easy!"

Matt shook his head, smiling.  "All right, fine.  Come over here."

Foggy gave a giddy smile and walked over to his best friend.  He stood, facing the punching bag.

"Okay, so, step one.  Grab the guy," Foggy said, planting his hands on the sides of the bag.  "Step two.  Stare the asshole in the eyes and look intimidating."  Matt burst into laughter.  "Then beat the shit out of them to tell them who's boss!"  Foggy banged his fist against the bag and then gave it a kick.  "Whew!  That's exhausting.  Dude, you must have some damn good stamina to do this every night."

"Ehhh...takes practice," Matt said.

"You bet.  You know what?  Have fun with that.  I'm going to get a hamburger."  Foggy began to leave, then turned around.  "You look like you need one, too.  Let's get one together."

"Okay," Matt said.  He unwrapped his hands, put on his glasses, and grabbed his cane.  "Lead the way."

The cane tapped the floor at a steady rhythm, creating the beat of a silent song.

-

"So I was thinking, we get burgers from here, and then we grab coffee at that place across the street to go with it," Foggy said.

"Couldn't we get coffee here?  They do serve it, you know," Matt pointed out.

"But how lame is that?  Eating all of your food from the same restaurant?  Jesus, Murdock.  You're so boring."

"I'm not boring, Foggy," Matt argued, with a smirk and a tip of the head. 

"No, you're not.  And neither am I.  For entirely different reasons."  Foggy accepted the takeout burgers and maneuvered his friend out of the restaurant. 

"Okay, time for drinks!"  They reached the curb.  "Let's cross."  Matt took the step down and let Foggy guide him through the traffic.  All for show, of course.  Foggy kind of enjoyed it. 

They stepped inside the coffee shop a few moments later.  The bells on the door jingled to announce their arrival.  One bell (there were three) sounded differently from the others.  The ball inside it had been replaced with one from a different model, giving off a slightly lower pitch.

"Welcome to Starbucks."  The voice was a woman's.  Familiar.  Matt had heard it once when he carried a girl to the hospital one night.  He'd rescued the girl from a man in an alley.

"I feel like such a white girl coming in here," Foggy whispered into Matt's ear.  Matt chuckled.

They ordered their coffee, and Foggy told the woman that their names were Maverick and Goose.

"Did you get my reference?" Foggy asked.

"What, the reference to Top Gun or the reference to the day we met?"

"Umm...both.  And it looks like you did get that reference."

Matt thought for a minute about movies and how much he'd enjoyed them as a kid before he'd lost his sight. 

"Maverick and Goose," the woman called.  Foggy grinned, then left the table that they were sitting at to go and grab their coffee.

"She gave you Maverick," Foggy said.  "You know, I was positive you were gonna get Goose."

Matt placed his fingers against his cup, feeling the ink.  It was more difficult than braille, but still readable for him.  He'd explained it (or at least tried to explain it, but ended up making it more confusing) to Foggy once, how he could feel the ink although it, according to Foggy, had no texture.  Actually, it had plenty of texture. 

"She gave me a smiley face?" Matt said.

"Hey, I didn't get one!" 

"Maybe Maverick is her favorite."

"And you're her favorite, too?  Maybe she just forgot to give me one.  You know, girls who put smiley faces on your receipts get better tips.  Maybe cups are a thing as well."

"A smiley face on a blind guy's cup.  Okay."

"Or maybe it's a habit to draw them, and she picks one lucky person out of each group that comes."

"Whatever you say, Goose."