Really? The guy calls himself 'spider-man.' [Says the guy who calls himself Daredevil, but there's enough self awareness in him that the remark is self deprecating, accompanied by a laugh and a shake of his head. It's not lost on him though. Next time. The Hand should be gone. Fisk is gone. But Matt knows with a sinking sense of certainty that there will always be something, someone else, slipping in to fill the void. It's a never ending tide, ebbing and flowing, beaten back only to crash on shore again and again.

It's exhausting. But he's starting to wonder. Two months. Matt Murdock has been dead two months. Maybe he should stay dead. That would leave more time for the Devil of Hell's Kitchen to live. But that feels cold too somehow.

The pain and anger that he can hear in Foggy's voice strike him all at once, pull him from those thoughts back to the present. To the other man beside him, whose arm he still grips.]

In and out of consciousness, mostly. Finding my feet, literally. [His grip at Foggy's arm tightens.] And then... I didn't know what to say. If you'd even want to hear from me, after everything. [With what Matt had put him through, had put everyone through.] But I missed you. [In the end, he has his weaknesses.]