"God, no," Foggy says at the mention of Claire. As much as he respects her, he can imagine that she wouldn't be all that happy to see the sight of either of them at the moment.

He takes a sip of the drink and swallows down the asprin, watching Matt as he sinks down into the chair. He can't help but think Matt's moving a little stiffly, but if his past history of recovery is anything to go by he knows it's not serious. He swallows, resting his aching head back on the cushions. Matt's words catch him by surprise.

"I knew what I was getting into," he says, holding the cool glass against his forehead. "I mean, maybe not at first. But when I came back. Then, I knew."

He lowers his glass and turns his head to regard Matt. "This wasn't your fault. Not really."