[Sorry, man, he knows how that sounds. He scrubs his other hand over the lower half of his face, because yeah, he remembers dying, no, he can't quite explain how it happened that he came back. He doesn't know how, just that one moment he was dying and the next he was waking up in a coffin full of blood.
How does he tell Foggy that, though? He sighs.]
I don't know the details, but whatever the Hand did to bring me back, it was a drain on their resources. [He knows that much at least, no one in the Hand will let him live that down.] I died, they brought me back, and when I came back I didn't know anything, so they—
[He stops, "looking" at Foggy. Or doing his best approximation of it, though his eyes are really more focused on a coat rack over Foggy's shoulder, or, more specifically, its silhouette in his world on fire.]
They took me in. Very graciously, I'm sure they'd say. [Judging from how bitter Matt sounds, he doesn't think it was all that gracious either.
Then he feels Foggy's body tense, and, oh, right, there's a sword leaning on the side of the couch, huh. Matt hadn't thought about it when he'd set the sword by the couch, he'd gotten into the habit of putting it nearby and within easy reach when resting, but now he's kind of regretting it. What must it look to Foggy, he wonders.
He doesn't try to break away from Foggy just yet, but his thumb rubs lightly over Foggy's wrist, trying to be reassuring.]
I'm not here to do anything for them. Not anymore. [Like yeah the Hand wanted a threat to their powerbase gone but like, fuck 'em, he likes it here.] I—I wasn't really planning on staying, I just needed a rest.
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[Sorry, man, he knows how that sounds. He scrubs his other hand over the lower half of his face, because yeah, he remembers dying, no, he can't quite explain how it happened that he came back. He doesn't know how, just that one moment he was dying and the next he was waking up in a coffin full of blood.
How does he tell Foggy that, though? He sighs.]
I don't know the details, but whatever the Hand did to bring me back, it was a drain on their resources. [He knows that much at least, no one in the Hand will let him live that down.] I died, they brought me back, and when I came back I didn't know anything, so they—
[He stops, "looking" at Foggy. Or doing his best approximation of it, though his eyes are really more focused on a coat rack over Foggy's shoulder, or, more specifically, its silhouette in his world on fire.]
They took me in. Very graciously, I'm sure they'd say. [Judging from how bitter Matt sounds, he doesn't think it was all that gracious either.
Then he feels Foggy's body tense, and, oh, right, there's a sword leaning on the side of the couch, huh. Matt hadn't thought about it when he'd set the sword by the couch, he'd gotten into the habit of putting it nearby and within easy reach when resting, but now he's kind of regretting it. What must it look to Foggy, he wonders.
He doesn't try to break away from Foggy just yet, but his thumb rubs lightly over Foggy's wrist, trying to be reassuring.]
I'm not here to do anything for them. Not anymore. [Like yeah the Hand wanted a threat to their powerbase gone but like, fuck 'em, he likes it here.] I—I wasn't really planning on staying, I just needed a rest.