The first thing Sarah's mind registered as she woke up was that her sheets felt significantly softer than usual.

Not thinking much of it, she lazily stretched out under the covers with a low whine, keeping her eyes closed as she wondered how much more time she had before her phone's alarm clock went off. She ran a hand through her tangled hair before finally opening her eyes—where she was met with the jarring sight of an unfamiliar ceiling.

Sarah sat up with a jolt before her still half-asleep mind caught up with where she was. She squinted at the nightstand, where she could see a Bible and a small white pyramid that, according to its label, was a talking alarm clock. Between that and the sheets, there was little question as to whose bedroom she was in. She groaned and leaned her head against her knees as she realized that—on top of having an embarrassing breakdown—she must have fallen asleep at Matt's place last night. Actually, she corrected herself, she had fallen asleep on Matt's couch. So how was it that she had woken up in his bed?

She checked the time on her cell phone, which had been placed on the nightstand next to her; it was still early, which gave her plenty of time to go home for a shower and change of clothes before work. She slipped out from between the covers, automatically smoothing them down again behind her before quietly padding over to the bedroom door and peering out into the living room.

Her eyes immediately landed on a familiar vigilante stretched out on the couch. He had a blanket thrown over him and his arm was curled under the pillow he was using. Sarah shook her head ruefully at the sight; she could never quite call when he would do something as oddly old-fashioned as ensuring he took the couch instead of her.

She began to quietly make her way over to where her shoes were sitting near the arm chair, but her attempts at stealth were interrupted by the loud, harsh ringtone of her morning alarm. It went off for a few long seconds before she managed to fumble with the lock screen and turn the alarm off.

"Your ringtone is horrible," came a low, scratchy voice from the direction of the couch.

Sarah jumped, glancing over at Matt guiltily. He was still stretched out on his back, but his unfocused eyes were open and directed up at the ceiling.

"I sleep right through all of the quieter ones," she explained, her voice barely above a whisper. "Sorry I woke you up."

"It's alright. I had to get up soon anyway," he said, sounding deeply unenthusiastic about the prospect.

"You don't sound very happy about it."

"M'not much of a morning person," he mumbled, sitting up with a low groan. Sarah cracked a small smile at the sight of his hair sticking up in odd directions.

"That's weird. It's not like you stay out every night until the crack of dawn or anything," she pointed out lightly as she slipped her shoes on.

Matt's chuckle was still gravelly from sleep. "No arguments here."

She couldn't help but think that sleeping on the couch surely couldn't have helped make the early morning wake-up more bearable. "I didn't...mean to fall asleep here last night. I was just going to close my eyes for a minute while you were on the phone with Foggy. You could have woken me up."

"Why would I do that?" Matt asked with a yawn.

Sarah caught sight her bag sitting under the side table next to the couch, and skirted around the coffee table to grab it. As she leaned down to pick up the bag, Matt shifted a little to sit up straighter, though his legs remained stretched out across the couch. The blanket slipped away from his upper body, and a barely perceptible wince crossed his face as he reached for the sweatshirt that was slung over the top of the couch. As he zipped the sweatshirt up, a dark, painful looking bruise covering the skin of his torso caught Sarah's eye. It looked to be brand new from the vivid coloring, and it was large, spreading across his sternum and out of view behind his partially-zipped sweatshirt.

"Did you go out last night?" she asked, caught off guard by the sight.

"For a bit. I was going to stay in, but it was still early, and there was a weapons shipment coming in that I wanted to intercept. Gun runners aren't, ah...the most agreeable bunch."

"Who would have guessed," Sarah muttered as she lowered herself onto the edge of the couch next to him and automatically reached out to brush the edge of his sweatshirt aside to get a better look. Up close she could see that the area was raised and swollen.

"Christ, Matt," she said softly.

Matt was very still as she traced the edge of the massive bruise in concern, almost as though he were caught off guard by the contact. Sarah was careful to keep her fingers from brushing against the actual inflamed skin, which she assumed was probably painful to the touch. After a few moments, he seemed to snap out of the stillness. He reached up and loosely caught her hand, curling his fingers around hers and gently guiding her hand away from the bruised area and back down to the couch.

"It's fine," he reassured her softly with an unconcerned half-shrug. "It's healing."

Sarah frowned at the practiced nonchalance in his voice; it reminded her of the not-quite-genuine smile he'd given the waitress the night before.

"Has anyone ever told you that your Daredevil outfit could stand to be a little...sturdier?"

The question elicited a rueful chuckle from Matt. "A few people, actually. I'm working on it. The person I had hoped to get an upgrade from went underground for a bit until everything with Fisk is officially done, but...I've heard rumors that he might be coming back to town soon."

As she glanced up from the bruise on his chest to look at his face, she caught sight of another, smaller bruise near the top of his forehead, as dark as the other one but just barely visible beneath his hairline.

"Did you take a hit to the head, too?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said. Sarah opened her mouth, but before she could say anything he raised his eyebrows in warning. "I swear if you ask me about the continents, I'm going to toss you off the roof."

She let out a surprised laugh at the threat, which between the grouchy tone and his disheveled appearance was far from intimidating.

"Really not a morning person," she noted, eliciting another quiet chuckle from the vigilante. "I'll remember that for future reference. I was just going to ask if your brain is still all in one piece."

"As much as it's ever been," he said before slowly sitting up fully and putting his feet on the ground, uncurling his fingers from where they had still been hooked with hers. "I'll be better after coffee. You have time for me to make you some?"

Sarah glanced down at the time on her phone as Matt stood up; it was still early. "Coffee would be very helpful."

She let her gaze wander around the apartment while Matt messed with the coffee maker, trying to keep her thoughts from drifting to the previous night's events too often. After a few minutes, he returned to the living room with two mugs in his hands, offering one to her.

"Thanks," she murmured as she accepted the drink.

"I wanted to talk to you about something," Matt said as he lowered himself down to sit on the couch next to her.

"Right," Sarah said as she recalled the last of their conversation the night before. He had said they had more to talk about, but then she'd fallen asleep. "What's up?"

Matt was silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts before he began speaking, which Sarah was slowly beginning to suspect was some sort of ingrained lawyer habit, as it almost always proceeded an attempt to convince her of something.

"You mentioned on the phone last night that you didn't want to go home."

That was true. But now, in the daylight, with the sounds of the city waking up around them, that fear seemed irrational and childish.

"Oh, yeah," she said, then shook her head as she tried to explain without sounding like a head-case. "I was just being...I don't know. I mean, I have like, a million locks on my door, and it's not like either of those guys actually managed to get through them. Sometimes I just get weird about being alone, I guess."

The silence that followed her ramble made her instantly self-conscious, though she couldn't tell from Matt's expression if he was listening to her heartbeat or if he was simply considering what she had said.

"If you don't want to be alone...you know that you can stay here. With me," he said, his tone hesitant but surprisingly genuine. "I don't think it will be long before we manage to track Ronan down, but until that happens...I can't say that I like the idea of you being alone in your apartment any more than you do."

Sarah's mouth fell open slightly before she abruptly shut it. An offer to come stay with him had been the last thing she had been expecting. And to be honest, it was a fairly tempting offer. As explosive and unpredictable as Matt could be, there was no doubt in her mind that he was completely on her side now, temper problems and all. And while barely-contained violence wasn't a trait she had particularly sought out in her friends in the past, it was a strangely comforting one now that she found herself constantly encountering violent people who were decidedly not on her side. But at the same time, she couldn't let Ronan be the one to dictate whether or not she could stay in her own home. And Matt had an entire city that needed looking after; she didn't want to distract him from that.

"Matt..." she began, and from the way his expression closed off slightly she could see that he knew what her answer was going to be. "I don't...I don't think I can do that."

"I...can't blame you if you don't feel comfortable staying with me," he said. "But I did promise you that I would keep you safe. And you'd definitely be safer staying here than at your place."

"It has nothing to do with whether or not I feel comfortable, Matt. I know your apartment is safer than mine is right now."

"Then stay here," he said simply. "Where I can protect you."

She shook her head, looking down at the coffee in her hand. "And what about the rest of the time? When I'm coming and going from work, or stopping at the grocery store? Or going to visit my dad, or—or hanging out with Lauren? Or anything else that involves being in public? I can't let Ronan set the terms for where I go or what I do, Matt. And...running away from my own apartment is the first step towards doing that."

Sarah had gotten much better at reading Matt's face, but for the life of her she could figure out what he was thinking as he sat facing her with his brow furrowed, as though he were contemplating something.

"No response," she pointed out, brushing her hair out of her face tiredly. "You think I'm being dumb."

"That's not the word I was thinking of," he said simply, offering no further explanation for his frustratingly vague statement, as usual.

"You...don't look thrilled, though."

Matt was clearly struggling to resist taking his usual route of bossing her around, which she appreciated, though she wasn't sure how long it would last. "I'm not. But...at the end of the day, it's your choice, not mine. The offer stays on the table, though. If you change your mind."

She gave him a small smile. "Thanks, Matt."

He just nodded, still looking dissatisfied with her decision. It occurred to Sarah that now might be a good time to bring up a question she had been meaning to ask him since last night.

"If you're that worried about me being safe, I was thinking that maybe...soon you could start showing me some of the self-defense you were talking about? Like...this weekend soon, maybe?"

"I was thinking the same thing. You sure you don't want to wait until your foot heals?"

Sarah shrugged. "For all I know, by the time my foot heals, there will be something else. I'd like to go ahead and start learning, if only so I...I can feel like I'm actually doing something. Not just having panic attacks and avoiding phone calls."

"This weekend, then," he agreed.

"Not in the morning, though," she suggested with a grin. "Maybe some time of day when you're less grouchy."

Matt gave her a dirty look as he plucked the empty coffee mug from her hands and stood up. "Don't you have a job to get to?"

Sarah checked the time on her phone again. "Ooh, actually, yes. It's later than I thought."

She grabbed her purse and slung it over her shoulder, then lingered for a moment at the divider between Matt's front hall and his living room. Matt was in the kitchen, setting the dirty dishes in his sink. He looked up when she spoke again.

"Hey, um..." Sarah suddenly had a number of things she wanted to say to him. She wanted to make sure he knew that he appreciated his offer, and that she was sorry that he gave up his bed for her last night even though he was injured. And she wanted to tell him just how much he had helped her the night before, and how much the idea of learning to defend herself was going to help her get through the rest of the week. But it was just too many things to express, and she couldn't find the right words. "Nevermind. I'll see you later, okay?"

Matt frowned at her strange behavior, but didn't address it. "Yeah. Be careful."

As Sarah hurried down the stairwell and out of the building, she didn't notice a familiar shaggy-haired blond man in a business suit a few feet down the sidewalk, blending in with the rest of the morning commuters on his way to surprise his law partner with bagels. But if the almost comical look of surprise and exasperation on his face was any indication, he had most definitely noticed her.

A few minutes later, Matt picked up on the sound of a familiar set of footsteps ascending the stairwell towards his apartment, and he internally groaned at Foggy's horrible sense of timing. Matt's apartment was on Foggy's way to work, and he occasionally dropped by before work to bring breakfast. But on this particular day, Matt wished hadn't. There was so little time between Sarah leaving and Foggy arriving that there was no way they didn't cross paths as she left his apartment building, clearly wearing clothes from the day before.

Sure enough, when Matt opened the door he was immediately greeted by a wave of palpable exasperation from his friend.

"Hi, Foggy," Matt casually greeted the man as he went ahead and entered the apartment. "What are you doing here so early?"

"I had a coupon for the bagel place," he said, tossing the bag on the kitchen counter before turning to face his friend. "You know, when I said you needed to get laid, sleeping with Sarah was so not what I had in mind."

Matt let out a groan at his friend's deadpan tone. "Foggy, I'm not—"

"Nope, let me get this out, because I totally saw this one coming," Foggy insisted.

"You...did?" Matt said doubtfully, holding off on correcting him until Foggy elaborated on what that meant.

"You bet your black-pajama-clad ass I did," he said. Matt was unfortunately familiar with the mixture of amusement and frustration that colored his friend's voice; it was a tone that he'd heard many times after getting involved with the wrong girl. "You always try to keep your hook ups under the radar, but this time there were definite signs. The two of you cozying up in the police station when she got arrested, for example."

Matt raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "What, when she was having a panic attack? What was I supposed to do, let her hyperventilate right in the interrogation room?"

"Of course not. I'm just saying, Mr. Radson was freaking out last week when he got arrested for breaking and entering, and I didn't see you scooting your chair all close to him and wrapping him up in your jacket," Foggy pointed out, reaching into the bag and fishing out a bagel.

"Mr. Radson is a six-foot-five construction worker, Foggy; I don't think my jacket would fit around him."

"Irrelevant. Exhibit number two—"

"—are we in court right now?—"

"—exhibit number two: that day I went to visit her after she got hurt and she answered the door wearing your Columbia sweatshirt."

"I—she what?" Matt said, faltering for a second before shaking his head and continuing. "Borrowing a sweatshirt because your clothing is covered in blood is not a sign of romance, Foggy. In fact, I think it might be the opposite."

"Yeah, but snuggling up in it after the fact? Questionable. Number three—"

Foggy was coming close to making just a bit too much sense, and Matt finally decided that it was time to cut him off.

"Nothing happened, Foggy," he said firmly. "She fell asleep here, and I slept on the couch."

There was a short silence during which he could tell Foggy was eying him suspiciously, trying to ascertain if he was lying.

"You're sure?"

"Pretty positive," Matt said dryly. "I'm blind, but I think I would have noticed that."

"Oh. Well...that's probably good," Foggy said, sounding relieved. "Because I really like Sarah, but that would be...kind of messed up, to be honest. I mean, good on you two for moving past how you used to be, but still. The only person you could date who would make your life more complicated than her would maybe be Wilson Fisk himself."

Matt was more than aware that, given their history and the precarious power balance between the two of them, anything beyond friendship with Sarah was out of the question—so he wasn't sure why hearing it coming from Foggy was strangely painful.

"Well, you have nothing to worry about," Matt said, keeping his expression carefully neutral as he leaned around the other man to grab a bagel from the bag. "Sarah is just a friend. She just stayed here last night because she was afraid. And she didn't want to be alone."

Foggy faltered slightly, picking up on the seriousness that had crept into his friend's tone. Matt had told him only in very vague terms what was going on with Ronan. Sarah could sometimes be painfully tight-lipped about her personal life, and as a private person himself, Matt assumed that she wouldn't want him sharing every detail of the Ronan ordeal with Foggy. She barely seemed comfortable with the idea of him knowing. But he'd told Foggy enough that he understood the gravity of the situation, and he could hear concern replace the teasing in Foggy's voice when he next spoke.

"What happened?"

"We ran into Ronan," Matt said darkly. "It didn't go great."

"You didn't pulverize that guy?"

"Unfortunately, no. I was...dressed down," he said carefully, making a split-second decision to not mention the fact that they had been out to dinner in a non-spying capacity. Foggy didn't seem to notice. "I'll be more prepared next time he shows up."

"And what if...you're not around next time he pops up?"

Matt worked his jaw unhappily. "I might not be. That's why I'm going to start teaching her a few techniques so that she can defend herself better."

"Really?" Foggy asked. "I'm kind of surprised she would go for that. I always got kind of a...passive vibe from her."