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Chapter Text

Matty Murdock wasn’t waking up. 

The doctors didn’t think he ever would.

Between the trauma of the damage from the impact itself, the chemical burns to his eyes, and who knew what else that shit was doing to him, the boy wasn’t in good shape and he wasn’t getting better. When they tried to tell that to his father, of course, the poor man refused to believe them.

“Matty is a fighter,” he snapped back, voice full of desperation, “He’s going to wake up.”

“Sir you need to consider the possibility that he… won’t,” the doctor said gently, holding her clipboard to her chest. “The damage is extensive and… keeping him on life support is…”

“Don’t say it, don’t you fucking say it, I’m not about to leave my son for dead!” Jack Murdock turned away from her and stormed back to his son’s bedside, arms folded tight and shoulders tense. “We’re alright doctor. Go.”

The doctor could only sigh, turning to leave the man with his son, the door easing shut with a creak. Alone, Jack sank into the chair beside the bed, taking Matty's hand into his own, hating so much how cold it felt. If only he’d been there, if only he’d walked with Matty, maybe he’d… he’d…

Jack hung his head, gritting his teeth and fighting tears. He couldn’t say goodbye, he couldn’t give up, not yet. They were Murdocks! They always got back up!

They always…

“Always a shame when they’re this young.”

Though he wouldn’t be able to tell you what the voice sounded like later, nor who it belonged to, Jack would always say it chilled him to the very core of his being. It could only belong to one person, and he sure as hell didn’t work in the hospital.

Slowly, trying to bite down on his fear, Jack raised his head to meet the eye of the stranger now standing on the other side of his son’s bed, wearing the kind and smooth smile of a conman with plenty of experience. Fire flickered behind the man’s eyes, though his face… it looked like no one and like everyone.

“I don’t need to tell you what I can offer you,” he said to Jack, hands in his suit pockets. “You know what you want, I simply need to know what you’re willing to give up. As I’m sure you can guess, prices for this kind of thing aren’t exactly… cheap.”

Jack’s grandfather had told him stories about the Fae back in Ireland, stories about clever heroes who knew the importance of the spoken word. Back then that’s all they had been, stories, and a lesson to speak clearly, to never make deals that could be used against you. Right now though, Grandpa would have to roll in his grave a little longer, Jack couldn’t let this slip away.

“I’d do anything for my son to wake up,” he answered slowly. “But I’d need time with him.”

“I can give you a few years, I’m not that cruel,” the man purred, looking over at Matty. Poor kid looked half dead, with all the tubes and the bandages over his eyes. “After all, someone has to make sure he’ll be able to survive when you’re gone.”

“This ain’t living, this ain’t how a kid should live,” Jack continued, wilting and hanging his head again. “As long as he lives, as long as he can keep fighting, I… I’m all yours.”

He heard the slow footsteps move around the bed, felt the ice cold hand settle on his shoulder. “And you’re… certain about this? This is what you want?”

Though everything felt like lead and his voice almost failed him, Jack managed to nod. “Yeah, yeah it is.”

The man grinned, and his canines seemed just slightly too sharp. From his perfect suit, he drew out a folded piece of paper and a pen tipped in gold, offering them both to Jack, whose hands shook slightly as he took both, laying the contract out on the bed to sign. He couldn’t help noticing the stranger growing impatient as he carefully read over the fine print, it wasn’t the first sketchy contract he’d had to sign with his life on the line, the details would have to be perfect.

And… well… everything seemed in order.

His conditions were written down exactly like he’d said, perfect.

Jack actually had to fight a smile as he signed, feeling a sharp pain in his opposite palm as red ink scratched onto the contract page. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the stranger’s smile grow near manic, especially as he passed the paper back. “It’s been a pleasure, Mister Murdock.”

“Call me Jack,” he countered, handing back the pen as well, then covering the now bleeding cut on his palm. 

“I look forward to our time together!” the man chirped, turning to leave, his heels clicking like hooves on the tile.

Only then did Jack allow himself a smile. “And I look forward to when it ends.”

The footsteps stopped, he could practically hear the devil’s teeth start to grind, his voice slipping from that perfect veneer into an angry growl. “I’m… sorry?’

Jack leaned back in his chair, and repeated what he’d said. “As long as my son is alive, I’m yours. You wrote it yourself. Once he’s dead, I’m out. Seems fair, I think.”

Without warning, the chair he sat in spun around violently on its own accord, leaving streaks in the tile as the devil stalked over. His human features began to slip, eyes and scales of a serpent, claws and teeth of a dog- “You dare to try and cheat me Jack?”

“Hey, you’re the one they call a fucking prince of lies,” Jack snapped back, gripping the arms of his chair. “Besides, you still get me for almost sixty years. Surely you can fit an eternity of torture into that right?”

The devil’s forked tongue flickered as he glared, eyes burning with hellfire. 

And then he grinned. “Your son will live, Jack. I’ll make sure he doesn’t die a minute before he’s fated to. And until then-” the adversary leaned in closer, his sulfurous breath almost making Jack gag, “-you and I are going to have a lot of fun. You’re going to watch him fall until he ends up in hell right there beside you. And then you’re going to have to leave him with me. ”

“We’ll see about that you son of a bitch,” Jack hissed, lip twisting into a snarl. “Now get out of my son’s room.”

The devil hissed, but in a whoosh of smoke, he vanished into thin air.

Behind him, Matty woke up, and began to panic.

Chapter Text

People like to say that God works in mysterious ways.

Karen Page couldn’t help wondering if the Almighty had planned for her roommate to turn into a monster. 

As she stood at the bottom of the chapel steps, out of breath, holding a bruise quickly forming on her shoulder, the sound of the screaming and the clawing fingernails against wood came to her mind. She felt lucky the salt barrier idea had even worked, maybe it’d buy her enough time to find someone who could actually help. And yet…

The idea of climbing the steps and entering the church filled her with a deep feeling of dread. She hadn’t been inside one in decades, and just standing here now reminded her vividly of what happened the last time she’d been to a chapel. Shouting and anger and rough hands against her arms, she had to close her eyes and steady her breathing as she took the first step up, trembling hand clutching the railing.

Someone she cared about needed help, and only she could get it for him, here, in this place.

Hopefully…

With a great creak, Karen pushed through the doors of the chapel, looking around desperately for someone, anyone who might be able to help her. A priest, who stood at the far end of the hall, carefully lighting candles, looked up at the sound and a deep frown creased his brow. He hurried to Karen’s side and helped her to sit in one of the pews, no doubt feeling how she trembled both in fear and the cold of rushing out of the house without a jacket. “Oh my dear, what’s the matter? You look shaken to the core, is everything alright?”

“No, no everything is not alright,” she stammered, folding her arms tight around her chest and rocking slightly in her seat. “Something, something happened to my friend, I-I can’t explain it but he needs help.”

“S-slow down now,” the pastor pressed, sitting beside her, keeping a steady hand on her shoulder. “What’s your name? Who’s your friend?”

Karen had to swallow before she could answer. “I, m-my name is Karen, a-and my friend, he-he’s my roommate, he’s… he’s…”

“It’s alright Karen, what’s happened to your roommate?”

In her mind’s eye, Karen saw it happen all over again, the look of anger crossing his face, the way his eyes had gone dark and the click of his bones- “You’re, you’re going to think I’m crazy but, but I swear I’m telling the truth!”

“And I promise I’ll believe you, but you must tell me.” The priest glanced up as somewhere in the chapel a door shut heavily, and Karen thought she saw a bit of worry on his face. For just a split second, she feared that somehow that thing had escaped the basement and followed her here, to this place.

Karen had to take another steadying breath, remind herself she wasn’t crazy and the bruises on her arm were proof, that this place ought to be safe from that thing . “He… his eyes, oh God father his eyes! They were, they were completely black and, and he started attacking me, throwing things and… He would never act like this!”

The priest opened his mouth to speak when a soft tapping sound made him look up again, brow furrowing as it got closer. He set his jaw, turning back to Karen, “My dear, Miss Page, what you’re suggesting is… very very dangerous. Perhaps even, impossible. Why didn’t you call the police?”

“I know Foggy like the back of my hand,” she insisted, growing frustrated, gesturing with both her hands that almost trembled with her fear. “What, whatever it was I locked in the basement, that wasn’t him. The cops would just, fucking shoot him or-”

She almost jumped out of her skin when a new voice spoke up behind her, smooth, cool and calm. “What did it say to you?” 

Turning to look, the man smiled at her, resting both his hands at the top of the slim, white cane he held. He was dressed like a preacher, but the shaggy red-brown hair and round red sunglasses didn’t fit the same image. Karen blinked twice before answering. “I, I-I couldn’t really understand him, but… But he started shouting after I suggested getting a job here, at the church, just for now. V-volunteer work, o-or something…”

The man sat in the pew behind them, leaning forward so he could still speak with Karen, letting his cane rest to one side. “Mention of church, the Lord, priests and angels, it tends to aggravate them.”

Karen wilted a little, folding up her arms again, feeling her shoulder start to ache a bit deeper. “I just, I don’t get it… Foggy he’d, he’s never hurt anyone, he’s usually so cheerful and joking, but he’s been numb and cold these past few weeks, u-until I set him off.”

“Possession, at least in the early stages, resembles a wide variety of mental illnesses,” the newcomer explained, tapping his hand against the back of the pew. “And then, something changes.”

Swallowing hard, Karen looked at this stranger, and her voice wavered unevenly. “Can he be saved?”

Before he could answer, the preacher thumped his hand against the pew, speaking in a stern voice. “Matthew you cannot continue with this nonsense, her friend is unwell, not possessed!”

The man, Matthew, frowned deeply, and Karen felt a prickle of fear at the tone he spoke with. Something about it reminded her again of those awful memories in the church, but she tried to push it down. “Father the woman needs help.”

“From medical professionals or the law, ” the father insisted, sounding like they’d had this argument time and time again. “You cannot continue to fill people’s heads with these blasphemous ideas! Exorcisms must be verified by the Vatican and-”

Karen stood suddenly, making both men look up in surprise. “If you won’t help me, I’ll find another church that will. Foggy isn’t himself, he’s not sick and he’s not a criminal.” She turned to Matthew, full of determination, “Are, are you going to help me? Or not?”

The priest seemed to flounder, unable to come up with a protest as Matthew stood, moving into the aisle and offering an arm, giving her a slight smile. He never seemed to make eye contact with her, even as he looked her way. “I will, Miss Page, you have my word. We should leave now, you can fill me in as we walk.”

“Oh thank you, thank you!” she said, allowing herself to smile as she stepped out and took his arm. “Um, we-we live just a few blocks from here, I walked here.”

“That gives us time to discuss a few things,” Matthew said, smiling back at her, sunglasses glinting. He gave the priest a wave with his cane, “I’ll be back tonight, probably, don’t wait up for me.”

He didn’t see the tired, frustrated way the father sighed as the two of them left, taking a moment to sign the cross for them, just in case.

As the church doors swung shut behind them, Karen had to bite her tongue. While she was very very glad to have someone ready to help her, to help Foggy, she couldn’t help being a little uneasy about the idea of a blind exorcist. No doubt he was skilled and confident in his own ability, but couldn’t there be complications? Would he actually be able to save Foggy?

“Can I ask you something, Miss Page?” Matthew asked her, as if sensing her unease, glancing her way as he spoke.

She nodded at first, and realizing her mistake, shook her head in shame. “Yeah, yeah of course, what is it?”

“Your friend, Foggy, would he happen to be Foggy Nelson? Studied law at Columbia and graduated a few years ago?” Matthew asked with a soft, knowing smile.

It took a moment of processing for her to remember what Foggy had told her, and Karen couldn’t help gasping when she realized. “Wait. You’re Matt Murdock? That Matt? His old roommate?”

Matt laughed, shaking his head with a fond smile. “Yeah! Yeah that was me. Part of me hoped leaving when I did would keep this sort of thing away from Foggy but… demons go for what hurts most. I think you were wise to come to us when you did, much longer and things could’ve gotten much worse for our friend.”

Sighing, her shoulders slumping, Karen shook her head. “I just wish I would have realized it sooner. After he got fired he, changed . I thought he was just going through a slump but, clearly I was wrong.”

“You couldn’t have known.” They stopped to wait at a light, traffic whizzing by as the lights remained stubbornly green. “Demons and exorcisms, they’re just stories, magic and horror movies, until they aren’t.”

“I just hope he’s going to be okay.” Traffic slowed, the little walking light turning on, Karen stepping forward and leading Matt across the street. Some part of her hoped she was doing this accommodating thing right, that she wasn’t being too pushy or anything. “Is, is he going to be okay?”

Matt stayed quiet, thinking possibly, as they reached the other side. His tone was grim when he spoke again. “He’ll most likely be fine. I have to warn you, this process is painful and exhausting for all parties, and could end very badly.”

“Oh god…” Karen covered her mouth with her free hand, biting down the welling panic in her chest, and the still fresh memory of that thing inside Foggy trying to kill her. It had thrown knives, sinking them into the wall inches from her head- “Foggy, he doesn’t deserve this, he doesn’t deserve any of this.”

She gently tugged on Matt’s arm to get him to stop, standing in front of the small brownstone she and Foggy had been struggling to split rent on for nearly two months on. He turned to face her, hands resting on his cane. “Really, no one who gets possessed deserves it. Guilty and wicked souls don’t make good hosts, there’s nothing left to corrupt, nothing left to take.”

“Is that the only reason they possess people? To ruin good lives?” Karen asked, uncomfortably folding her arms, a sick feeling in her stomach.

Matt sighed, turning his head towards the house. “That is, part of it. Possession is the brute force collection of souls, while temptation takes years and most demons are too greedy and impatient for that nowadays. Of course…” He taps his cane, “That’s just a theory from years of experience.”

“Oh, oh my god.” Karen covered her mouth again, trying to fight down the welling guilt and existential fear. No, no she had to focus, Foggy needed her help she had to stay strong.

She almost flinched when Matt reached out and touched her shoulder, though clearly he meant to be comforting. “Take my word for it. All that time has made me a very good exorcist.”

For a moment, she just stared at him, before nodding and squaring her shoulders. If he wasn’t afraid, if he was confident, she could make herself believe in him too, just for now. “I just want my friend back, I’ll punch that freaking demon myself if I have to.”

“Good, because I’m going to need your help.” Matt turned and climbed the steps up to the door, “You’ll likely have to be blindfolded for part of it, think you can handle that?”

Karen joined him at the door, fishing out her keys to unlock it as she spoke. “I can do that, I have to.”

They both froze as something crashed violently inside, in the basement. Swallowing hard, Karen pushed open the door and peered inside, only once she was certain it hadn’t escaped the basement did she lead Matt inside. For just a moment she felt grateful he was blind and couldn’t see the absolute disaster that had overtaken the front hall and the kitchen beyond, the deep scratch marks and holes in the walls where bodies had crashed, the knives jutting out in multiple spots, the scorch over the stove where the fire had flared… 

God their landlord was going to kill them if they didn’t fix it.

Though thankfully, the basement door was still locked, and Karen allowed herself to exhale. He hadn’t escaped, that meant there might still be a chance to save him, if he wasn’t too badly hurt from the fall down the stairs.

“Salt across the doorway, smart call,” Matt hummed as he pushed the front door shut, the loose salt crystals crunching under his shoes. “Is he still downstairs?”

“The door held,” she answers, watching him follow her voice into the kitchen, stopping in front of the basement entrance. “Wh-what now?”

“Once I go down, you need to find a blindfold, and wait for me to call you,” Matt told her, tapping the top of his cane in thought. “It’ll be loud, and then it’ll get quiet. When I call, come down and put the blinder on. No matter what you hear, whatever it says, whatever it makes Foggy say, all of it is a lie. No matter how much it hurts, you cannot believe what it says, understand?”

Again Karen nodded, before sheepishly mumbling she understood. Matt gave her a soft smile and nodded to the door, where the chaos beyond had gone quiet. “Could you unlock the door please?”

“Oh! Oh right, yes.” Really she intended to unlock it right away, but something made her hesitate. What if it stood just on the other side, waiting for her to flip the lock, that it might run out and kill her for real this time? Careful, she put her ear up to the door, listening for any sign of breathing or the creaking of the stairs. When things remained silent, she turned the lock as quietly as possible and eased the door open, revealing the empty stairway.

The exorcist stepped through and glanced back at her, nodding.

She shut the door, and locked it once more, silently praying she hadn’t just made a fatal, horrible mistake.

Now she just had to find a blindfold…

Chapter Text

The top step creaked loudly underfoot, accompanied again by the crunch of salt grains of sand underfoot. The sounds, small as they were, bounced off the walls and the old wooden railing, which still smelled faintly of soap from the last time a mop had come through here. Somewhere in the basement, the heater hummed away, and something quiet snarled and growled in strange tongues under its breath. As the air shifted it brought with it the smell of dust, concrete, and the thick, familiar stink of sulfur.

Most people wouldn’t even notice the sulfur until the possession had long passed treatable, but Matt Murdock was not most people. It wasn’t quite strong enough yet, Foggy still had a chance, and while Matt had managed to stay professional so far, the worry for the friend he’d lost finally began to make his chest feel tight.

With one hand on the railing- where the varnish had started peeling- slowly he descended into the basement, the steps aching under his weight until he reached the basement floor, concrete. His cane tapped softly as he held it in front of him, letting it fall onto each step in his way.

The snarling sound stopped, it knew he was here.

He heard movement, the demon standing from where it had ‘hidden’ behind what were probably cardboard boxes, using its host body with almost natural grace, none of his bones clicking painfully at movements controlled by someone else. When it spoke, the voice sounded natural, and scared. “Oh finally! You need to help me man! That bitch is crazy! She locked me down here yelling about a demon!”

Matt fought a smile, setting his cane to one side. “Very, very well done, an excellent impression, you almost had me fooled.”

“Wh… what do you mean?” it stammered, bewildered, pretending to be frightened despite how its whole demeanor seemed calm, calculating.

“Your host would’ve recognized me, we’re old friends. And ah, if you’re really going to try and fool an exorcist-” he fanned his face a bit, scowling, “I’m afraid the sulfur gives you away.”

The demon’s facade dropped like a stone, a gravelly hiss creeping into its voice, posture slumping to the left and eyes going dark. “ Bitch, can’t blame a demon for trying, can you?”

“I can, and I will.” Matt folded his hands, tilted his head, listening carefully to the heartbeat of his patient. Steady, calm, still going strong, a fighter. Foggy had always been quick to join a fight on the defensive side, to try and calm things, he was always surprisingly brave. He could survive this, he could handle things getting a little bit rough, and it may have to. “I don’t suppose you’re going to make this easy on me, are you?”

A low, husky chuckle seemed to fill the space of the basement as the sulfur smell somehow grew even stronger, bringing a dark smell of burning wood and a soft breeze. The source of it came closer, moving to one side, thinking that it couldn’t be seen, that its location wasn’t known. “Now where’s the fun in that exorcist? ”

“I’m going to give you one chance to leave of your own accord,” Matt said in a low voice, tilting his head slightly towards the presence. “I will not offer it again.”

“And I’ll tell you to go back to whatever shithole sent you,” the demon hissed, far far closer now, voice digging into his ear like a spike.

The corner of Matt’s mouth twitched up in a smirk.

He turned fast, grabbing the damn thing by the collar of its shirt, drawing out a noise of surprise as he slammed it into the wall. It grabbed his wrists, unnaturally sharpened nail digging through his sleeves like claws as it thrashed and hissed. Matt’s voice stayed low, almost a growl of his own. “You’re one to talk about shitholes hellspawn. ”

All around them, the wind began to pick up, objects trembling as they began to levitate into the air. Matt caught just the slightest sound, like something being thrown, and dragging the demon with him, he dodged to one side, hearing the heavy cardboard box crash to where they’d stood. With a grunt of effort, he turned hard, throwing the demon to the ground hard and side stepping another thrown object- hammer from the sound of it.

The demon snarled as it scrambled back to its feet, lunging at the exorcist again, going for the throat. Only to miss entirely as he moved to one side, aiming a well placed kick and knocking its clumsy puppet legs out from under it, making it slam into the bottom steps of the stairs. It couldn’t help gasping in pain, even groaning, and Matt flinched, hoping he hadn’t hurt Foggy too badly.

“Welcome to being human jackass, it hurts, ” he said, stepping forward and planting a foot on the demon’s chest, keeping it pinned to the floor. 

It thrashed and tried to claw at him, spitting curses in three languages. “I should’ve possessed that stupid bitch!” 

It let out a noise of pain as Matt stepped down harder, signing the cross and beginning to mumble a prayer. The words themselves were ancient, having been spoken a thousand times for this same purpose, imbued with the belief that they could purge demons from the living. Those words burned and the demon began to spasm, pinned to the ground, eyes rolling back in its head and breathing going ragged.

Wind swirled violently around them, things knocking around in the basement as the demon tried and failed to knock the exorcist down, only for him to raise his voice. “Stand by me to purge this creature of evil from this plane! Stand by me and smite this beast!”

The demon let out a short shriek of pain and went limp.

It wouldn’t last.

Matt grabbed it by the ankles, dragging it away from the stairs and into the center of the room, needing more space. “KAREN! Get down here!”

At the top of the stairs, the door unlocked with a click, Karen gasping in horror at the sight below as she hurried down the steps. When it started to stir, growling quietly, she froze in fear.

“Karen!” Matt snapped, straddling it and keeping one hand on its chest. “Get that blindfold on and pin his hands down! We can’t let it get away!”

Frantic, she nodded and tied the cloth she’d brought around her eyes, kneeling and pinning the demon’s hands over its head as it began to try and resist again. It bit and snapped and thrashed as it came back to consciousness, Matt trying his best to keep it still as he continued the prayer with quiet determination.

“I know what you are, exorcist! ” It spit, kicking and trying to get itself free.

It cried out as Matt grabbed its head and slammed it into the ground, a growl in his own voice when he spoke. “You don’t know a damn thing about me.” 

From in his coat, Matt drew out a small silver cross on a chain, holding it close, feeling it grow hot in his palm as the ritual continued. Seeing it, the demon tried to reach out, to grab something from the chaos to throw, but its power couldn’t get a grip. All it had left was its words.

“I’ve met your father,” it snarled, gnashing its teeth. “I’ve seen him down there with us, we like torturing him before coming up here! Wait till you hear him screaming an-”

Matt forced his hand over its mouth, “Enough fiend! Liar, heretic, brute and killer, this world is not yours, this body is not yours and you do not belong here. Begone!” 

With his thumb, he pressed the cross charm into its forehead where it began to smoke and hiss, painfully burning into the skin. The demon screamed with all its voice, back arching as the excruciating pain began to overwhelm it. Matt pressed harder with both hands, repeating his command over and over, hoping that’s all it would take. He could hear Karen whimper in worry, in fear, her heart racing in terror and the pain of hurting her friend.

And suddenly it went still, limp, a puppet with its strings cut.

They froze, waiting.

The body coughed hard, as if choking, and there came a rush of smoke, followed by the sound of a distant door slamming. 

Matt fell to one side, scooting back as he sat there, catching his breath. Something wet dripped down his chin, and when he wiped, he could smell blood. Great, another nosebleed, at least that meant it was over. 

He heard Karen move back, still sounding like she was panicking.

“You can uh, you can take the blindfold off now,” he said in a soft voice. “It’s, it’s gone.”

Carefully, Karen untied her blindfold, sucking in a breath as she saw the angry red burn on her friend’s forehead. She gently placed the cloth over it, as if hiding it would make it better, then carefully picked up one of his hands. “Oh, oh god Foggy…”

“Is, is he alright?” Matt asked weakly, pulling a cloth from another pocket to try and clean himself up.

“Y-yeah I think so,” Karen stammered, nodding, moving her hand to his wrist to check for a pulse. “Other, other than the burn.”

He forced himself to sit up straighter, rolling his shoulders which had already begun to ache from the fight. “That’s normal, it should heal pretty quickly. Can you do something for me?”

“That, depends.” Her hesitance was audible, and she held her friend’s hand just a little bit tighter. 

Matt tried to offer a reassuring smile, gesturing around the now quiet basement, where the sulfur smell still lingered with the smell of dust. “Is there any writing on the walls? On the floor? Any symbols or scorch marks?”

“No, no not that I can see.”

“Good.” He stood, hissing as a bit of pain raced up his back. “Right, okay, let’s get Foggy upstairs, somewhere more comfortable to be unconscious.”

Karen fought a snort of laughter, and she smiled for the first time in almost two days, nodding mostly to herself as together they lifted Foggy off of the floor. 

The demon was gone, and with a bit of time, she’d have her friend back.

Chapter Text

The last time Foggy Nelson saw his roommate had been a suspicious affair.

Then again the dude was weird as hell at the best of times so really it wasn’t all that out of character. But something about this had been different, it left Foggy worried for his friend. Every few days he’d see something or other that reminded him of law school, and he’d pause to wonder whatever happened to Matthew Murdock. In as big a city as New York, in a field as competitive as law, the poor guy could’ve been swallowed right up.

Not like he couldn’t hold his own, he’d always been a smart, observant guy, to the point there had been times when Foggy questioned if he was, in fact, as blind as he said. Somehow he always knew when something was bugging Foggy, even without having to say anything, and it made it so easy to trust him, to think of Matt as a friend. Hell, by the time they graduated, Foggy had been considering asking him if, maybe, they could start their own practice together, standing up for all the little guys they felt so passionate about helping.

During their second year, rumors began to pop up that the campus was haunted. People heard demonic whisperings and growling in the basement, said they saw a nightmarish figure moving over rooftops at night, hell even the frat boys started trying to impress girls with their ‘extensive knowledge of demon hunting’ provided exclusively from television.

Matt scoffed at all of it, shaking his head with a smile, going on to explain that demons simply didn’t look or act like that on this side of the veil. When Foggy became confused, he went on to explain: Demons simply weren’t allowed to exist in the mortal world, some agreement long ago between the Divine and the Damned. They could possess, they could influence and haunt, but actually existing in this plane was strictly forbidden and punishable by being smote. A demon running around campus like a cryptid was asking for it.

“Where the hell did you learn this stuff?” Foggy had asked, utterly bewildered.

And Matt had smiled at him, “I had a teacher with a penchant for demonology. I guess it rubbed off on me.”

Something about that smelled fishy, but Foggy didn’t know enough to really try and crack into that mystery, especially not when he had studying to do. 

Other than the occasional night when Matt would come back way too late at night looking like he’d been in a fight, things went pretty smoothly right up until the end.

Then something actually weird happened.

One of the professors started acting really, really weird.

It started with fatigue and migraines during class, and people whispered about some kind of disease, maybe even cancer, but the professor insisted the doctors said she was fine. And then, suddenly she was , and she started acting differently too, acting wrong. She rambled during class about things no one understood, she snapped at students and insulted them- like she’d become someone completely different!

Somehow, it got worse too.

“I don’t know why you wanted office hours with Professor Birch, seriously,” Foggy said as he and Matt walked side by side towards her office. “Seriously she’s like, gone full children’s movie villain bullshit.”

“Don’t be rude, she could be sick or going through something,” Matt said, shooting a frown in Foggy’s direction. “Besides, I need to talk to her about my last paper, I think she forgot to-”

A scream ripped through the hall and made them both stop short in surprise. 

With a slam, the door to Professor Birch’s office swung open and a girl staggered out, clutching her wrist where blood dripped through her fingers. Foggy almost dropped his bag as he ran over to her, catching her and helping her get into a seat. “ Maria? What the hell happened? Are you okay?”

“That psycho bitch came at me with a letter opener!” she screeched, voice pitching up in terror.

“Professor Birch?” Foggy glanced towards her door, feeling his heart skip a beat in panic at the blood trail and the shadow staggering towards the door. “But she-”

“Foggy! Keep people out!” Matt cried suddenly, practically sprinting past and into the office, slamming the door shut behind him. 

On his feet, Foggy ran to the door as an unearthly cackle came from the other side, and when he tried the handle, it had grown so hot his palm singed and he yanked it back, shaking away the heat and pain. He pressed his ear to the door, trying to listen to what was going on behind the door, and below the muffled and unclear voice of his friend, the insane laughter of the professor, he could hear what sounded like whispering straight out of a horror movie.

A whimper dragged his attention back to Maria, and he glanced at the office door one more time before going to her side. “Come on, you need help, let’s get you to the nurse okay? It’s not far.”

She could only nod, leaning hard on him as they hurried, people starting to peer out of other offices and classrooms as another scream tore through the air.

No one really knew what happened in there, no one but Matt, and Foggy tried not to let him know how suspicious that seemed. As soon as Maria had been passed to a competent medical professional, and with ambulance sirens already blaring elsewhere on campus, he tried to run back through the courtyard towards the gathering crowds. It couldn’t have been longer than ten minutes, but now Matt sat on the step outside being examined by an EMT, while Professor Birch rode away on a stretcher, her face pale and a nasty cut over one eye.

“Let me through! That’s my friend!” Foggy snapped, pushing through the crowd and over to Matt, who turned his way with a relieved look on his face. “Dude what happened?”

“Honestly I’m not really sure,” he answered, tilting his head as Foggy sat down beside him on the bottom step. Matt pressed a tissue to his nose again, and it came away wet with blood, though he couldn’t see how Foggy’s frown only got deeper. “I went in to try and keep Birch from following and she just, started to seize. Hit me in the process, hence… This.”

Both of them turned to face the sirens as the ambulance came to life, driving away almost too fast for a car on campus, leaving students and faculty whispering in confusion and curiosity.

Foggy bit down the insults he wanted to say about Birch, about the way she’d cut into Maria, who had been so terrified she could barely explain what happened. “Do they know what’s wrong with her?”

“One of them mentioned it might be a tumor,” Matt answered, his tone level despite everything. “What about Maria? Is she alright?”

“Needs stitches, but, she’s not going to bleed out if that’s what you’re asking.” Foggy hung his head with a sigh, “What the hell was all that? I swear I heard-”

He startled when Matt stood suddenly, not even looking down when he spoke. “We were arguing. Birch wasn’t being reasonable, that’s what you heard.”

“But Matt-”

And he just started walking, ignoring Foggy even as he followed to protest. 

He didn’t talk about what happened in that office for the last few weeks of school, he’d change the topic to something mundane every time Foggy tried to press him on it. When the year ended, when they graduated, when Foggy was just about to ask about a potential practice, Matt Murdock disappeared. There one day, him and all his things gone the next, and no word of where he’d gone.

It’d be a lie to say that didn’t sting, especially since Foggy thought they’d had something special going, that they’d been good friends…

Well, now he had a pretty good idea why Matt ran so fast, why he didn’t want to talk about what happened.

Everything hurt, his back and his wrists and his head and his stomach, felt like he hadn’t eaten or slept in a week. He couldn’t help groaning, throwing an arm over his face, what the hell happened? The last thing he remembered was Karen talking about job opportunities, mentioning the church and…

Now he was laying on the couch feeling like he’d been steamrolled, though something on his forehead stung like a hot lightbulb. Barely able to pry his eyes open against the lights of the living room, Foggy reached up to feel it, hissing when his touch made it sting worse, like a burn, and it most definitely seemed swollen. What the hell happened?

Somewhere else in the house, he heard the clatter of pans, Karen had to be home, she could probably explain what happened right? With a soft groan, Foggy forced himself to sit up, cursing quietly as he managed to stand, swaying slightly as his balance threatened to fail him. Come on, just get to Karen, make sure she’s alright, and get some answers, easy plan.

Just, one step at a time. 

Foggy shuffled into the kitchen, feeling relieved to see Karen sitting at the counter working on… something or other. When she noticed him, she gasped loudly, almost knocking the cutting board from the counter as she jumped to her feet and ran over to him. “Oh my god- Foggy!”

“Karen what-” he got cut off when she hugged him tight, making the ache in his everything flare up and nearly knocking him off his feet.

“You’re okay! You’re okay!” she exclaimed, squeezing him a little too tightly.

He couldn’t help groaning and having to lean on her in response. “Not, not quite, ow…”

“Oh! Oh shit sorry, sorry…” She pulled back, drawing up her hands against her chest, wincing a bit as Foggy rolled his shoulders with a hiss of pain. “I’m just… I’m so glad you’re you again.”

He gave her an odd look, quickly trying to come up with a witty response and failing due to how bizarre that sounded. “Me again?”

Karen wilted a little, “You, don’t remember, do you?”

Foggy gave a helpless little shrug and shook his head, and to his surprise, she actually smiled, face filling with relief that went all the way into her shoulders. “That’s, that’s actually a good thing. I’ll, I’ll explain what happened over dinner, when our guest wakes up.”

“Riiiight, okay, okay I can live with that.” 

He shook his head again, reaching up to touch the burn on his forehead again, frowning. Hesitant, Karen stepped a little closer, lifting one worried hand towards him. “Does, does it hurt bad?”

“A little?” Foggy tried to crack a smile, feeling more tired than anything really. “No worse than that time you bashed my face with the door, anyway. But yeah it hurts.”

Karen took one of his hands, her brows knit together with worry. “We should, get a bandage on that, maybe some aloe or… something.”

Nodding, Foggy let her lead him into the bathroom where their supplies were all shoved haphazard into the medicine cabinet. Really it was lucky this place was as comfortable as it was, Foggy had been lucky to get it, only to quickly realize that even with his swanky intern position at Landman and Zach- which he hated- he couldn’t quite make rent on his own. Lucky him when one of the clients that got handed to him turned out to be an absolutely lovely person and they could help each other in more ways than one.

Of course, helping Karen win that case and becoming her friend had been the first real friction he had at work, the start of a months long chain of bureaucratic and moralistic disagreements that eventually concluded with him getting fired about a month ago. By then he’d already helped her move into the second of the three bedrooms and find a new job as a secretary to some small business downtown. They were doing okay, but the longer he went without a job, the tighter things were going to get and he thought the stress had been getting to him.

And yet, as he leaned on the wall while Karen gathered some things, he couldn’t help noticing how… hopeful he felt now. Like, things were looking up somehow.

That feeling immediately vanished when Karen closed the cabinet and he saw his reflection. Just above his right eye, where the burn occasionally throbbed, he could see the shape of a cross burned into his skin. A bunch of ridiculous ideas raced through his mind, piling up against all the questions he had on his tongue so all that he could manage was a grim, terrified: “Oh shit.”

Karen looked up from the bandages, frowning. “Foggy?”

“Is, is that a cross?” he asked, frightened, as he approached the mirror, reaching up to touch the wound and make sure it really was real.

He heard Karen swallow hard, “Y-yeah, it is.”

“Oh. Oh my god. I mean, holy shit! ”

“Foggy!” She took both his shoulders, forcing him to look away from the reflection and focus on her, with that steady, fearless look she got sometimes. “Listen to me. You’re okay, that’s what matters, alright?”

He could only nod, not really sure what to do with his hands, or what to say.

Karen gave him a reassuring smile, “Sit down, let’s get you cleaned up.”

The cheapo toilet lid creaked when Foggy sat down, trying not to groan again as his bones themselves seemed to ache. As Karen very gently put a cooling cream over the burn- it still stung but it stung far far less now- Foggy tried again to remember what the hell had happened. It made his head hurt to try and focus on it, coming up with scraps of voices, with the feeling of being thrown into the floor and… the smell of sulfur?

Oh wait, that was just his shirt. Why did his shirt smell like sulfur?

A soft tap on his shoulder pulled him out of his thoughts, and Karen smiled. “Here, these should help with all the soreness.”

“Thank you,” Foggy mumbled, taking the pills and glass from her hands, taking them like a shot. “Seriously, Karen, thank you. I don’t know if I’d, I still don’t really know what happened but I don’t think I’d be here without you.”

Her smile grew sad and she put an arm around him in an awkward half hug. “Of course Foggy, I… I thought I was going to lose my friend.”

“You know? I’m really glad you didn’t,” he can’t help joking, making her chuckle as he gave an overly enthusiastic fist pump.

Karen gave him one more squeeze and helped him to stand, “I’m glad too. Are you hungry? I was making dinner when you woke up.”

“I could eat a horse at this point.” Foggy blushed as his stomach growled loudly and dramatically, making Karen laugh again. Curse his impeccable comedic timing! How utterly embarrassing… 

Though, he got the feeling Karen could use a laugh right now, so it wasn’t all bad.

Together they returned to the kitchen, though as they passed the doorway that peered into the living room, Foggy stopped short, his brow furrowing. Because despite how messed up his everything felt, he certainly wasn’t delusional right? And yet, unless his eyes were deceiving him, someone he knew was currently sitting in the threadbare armchair dressed like a friggin preacher or something. Well he was wearing a long black coat and had that little collar with the white thingy on it, priests wore something like that right?

In any case, his next reaction might’ve been a bit too loud and a bit too surprised.

“MATT!?”

Chapter Text

Jury was out on whether Foggy having not changed since college was a good thing or a bad thing.

Right now? Probably a good thing. It meant the demon hadn’t done much to change him, and that the trauma of the event probably wouldn’t leave any lingering scars more than an occasional nightmare. (Those were normal for everyone who spent a prolonged amount of time near a demon or possessed individual and Matt could guarantee that it sucked but eventually they faded)

Then again being woken up by violent (excited?) shaking and a familiar voice going a mile a minute had been incredibly disorienting. On the bright side, he seemed happy to see Matt, even if he sounded incredibly frustrated and confused as he demanded answers about, well, everything. Starting with Professor Birch and everything that happened in college, the surprising part for Matt was how easy it was to answer Foggy’s questions.

Maybe it’s because there wasn’t anything to hide now, he’d already been possessed and keeping that world secret had been meant to keep Foggy safe, but it happened anyway. At this point, why bother hiding that? So he told him about the possessions, about running after graduation to try and keep it secret, about his research.

It took Karen dragging Foggy off to get some food for the interrogation to end, but really Matt didn’t mind. Even after a few years, after the lies and the suspicion, he could already tell they were slipping back into that old friendship. And it… felt good.

And it gave him a very stupid idea. 

“What’ve you been up to after college, Foggy?” he asked with a smile when they sat down to eat. How Karen had managed to throw together a casserole after a day like today was remarkable enough on its own, and it smelled absolutely incredible. “I mean, you got me to tell you everything and all I know is you got possessed.”

He heard Foggy’s heart skip a beat, and when he spoke he sounded tired. “Oh, right yeah well, I ended up getting that intern position at Landman and Zach only they uh, they kind of suck. Like a lot. Like a lot a lot, man. Oh and I got fired, so that was fun. I’m currently very unemployed.”

Matt frowned a little, tilting his head to one side. “What happened?”

Even though she had been quiet, Karen seemed to somehow get even more quiet, like she was shrinking up on herself and trying not to exist, playing with her food instead of eating it. Foggy gave a sharp, frustrated sigh, “Okay it’s not her fault, she’s great seriously, but it was Karen. Karen happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“Honestly I don’t know why they even put me on the case, I think someone up above was hoping I’d lose, and I don’t blame them, the case seemed stacked against her from the start.” He tapped his fork on his plate as he thought, likely trying to put the words together. “Someone broke into her house, tried to kidnap her, and she killed him in self defense. Of course we both know actually arguing self defense is a pain in the ass, especially when it just looks like a murder without the testimony.”

“I didn’t mean to kill him,” Karen protested softly, a strain in her voice as she nervously fixed her hair. “I just, I-I meant to scare him and then he…”

Foggy reached over to pat her arm, trying to offer a smile. “I know, I know. And the court agreed! Eventually.”

“The trial ran long?” Matt asked, pausing mid bite.

Humming as he nodded, a habit he’d picked up to help Matt during school, Foggy continued. “Yeah way longer than it should’ve. I had to go through Karen’s past after the prosecution tried to argue that due to her history with the deceased some part of the kill was premeditated or revenge. Between you and me it seemed more like, y’know, an abuser coming back to try and get his victim back. Thankfully the jury agreed after Karen took the stand, she did awesome up there.” He nudged her affectionately, trying to cheer her up somehow. 

It seemed to work, as her heartbeat steadied and she managed a smile. “I, still feel bad that it eventually got you fired.”

“Not fired- I quit. I quit because they wouldn’t stop giving me shit for everything I did!” He threw his hands up, gesturing emphatically. “Suddenly I was a bleeding heart for actually wanting to help people instead of turning a profit. Oh I’m not comfortable trying to force someone out of their house in a lawsuit? Suddenly that’s a problem! So yeah, I quit about a month ago.”

“That’s when the demon came into the picture, most likely anyway,” Matt hummed, gesturing with his fork in a shape he couldn’t quite define.

Foggy sighed, “I just thought I was having a depressive episode. Haven’t had one of those since high school…”

“That is how possession presents at first.” He took another moment to chew, listening as some fool on a motorcycle raced by on the street outside. “And then, at some point, somehow it gets even worse.”

“Is that why it feels like I got hit by a truck?” Foggy asked, rubbing his neck.

“Mostly, I did have to throw you around a bit. But uh, the body slowly stops being able to resist and the demon eats away at it over time. It’s like a disease only…” He shook his head, “There’s no real medicine for it.”

He could almost hear the color drain out of Foggy’s face as realization dawned on him that he could’ve very easily died in that basement today. Karen swallowed hard, covering her mouth in shock. “Oh my god…”

Matt tried to smile, hoping it came off as friendly and reassuring. “But Foggy survived, which is no small feat with how long he hosted that thing.”

“Thank you for helping put a stop to it,” Karen said, reaching over to touch his arm, a physical sign of her gratitude.

He nodded in her direction, “Of course. I had to, not just because Foggy is a friend but… it’s my duty.”

“How very noble,” Foggy chuckled, both meaning it and joking. He always had a way with that, coming off as both light and funny, while meaning every word he said, it’s one of the things that made Foggy fun to be around. “You know what, that’s enough about my shitty job and demons. Did I miss anything good while I was out and depressed and mind controlled for a month?”

Karen fought a bit of laughter, but went on to talk about things that had gone on in the neighborhood, guiding conversation to something kinder and easier. 

She had a pleasant voice, and seemed very kind, perhaps she could fit into Matt’s plan too, although women weren’t normally trained as exorcists. Historically you could blame that on sexism but the threat of a demonic pregnancy was very real and always ended badly, so maybe not. A few good charms could keep her safe, if Matt could find them, but really that’s why he needed to ask Foggy, and soon.

He waits until after dinner, and tries to start with something a little less strange.

“So, I should say, normally I do charge a small fee for my services,” Matt began, feeling inherently awful about it. “It always feels selfish but, ah, even exorcists pay rent in New York I’m afraid.”

“Oh! Oh of course, right!” Karen quickly stammered, her pulse quick and nervous as she stood, moving to get her purse. “Just um, let me-”

“Come on, Matt, dude, we’re not exactly in a good place financially,” Foggy added, a scowl in his voice as he folded his arms.

Matt fought a smile, tapping his cane just once. “Guys, let me finish, please?” When their heart rates steadied, a good sign, he continued. “Look, the way I see it, dinner paid part of it, getting to catch up paid another part of it. But I think I have a way to help both of us take care of the rest. And ah, if you’re interested, Foggy, it might be a good job opportunity for you.”

He didn’t have to see to know the suspicious squinty look Foggy was giving him. “Go on.”

“How would you like to learn how to be an exorcist?” Matt asked, unable to help the sharp, dangerous way he grinned.

Foggy blinked, a number of expressions crossing his face before he spoke. “Well I, I’ve definitely never tried it. Does, does it actually pay?”

“I get a portion from the church funds for every demon, and small fees from clients,” Matt shrugs. “It’s a living, and you’re keeping monsters off the street. Besides, I need someone to be my eyes. There are, certain signs, markings and runes, that I can’t see or identify. It would, it’d be nice to have some help, if you’re interested, Foggy.”

The moment where Foggy considered seemed to stretch on forever, and though Matt tried his best not to seem impatient, to not listen to his friend’s vitals to try and read his mind, he couldn’t help trying to predict the answer. Eventually, Foggy sighed, throwing up his hands and letting them fall. “You know what? Fuck it, why not? What are exorcisms but demon legal cases? Yeah, yeah okay I’ll give it a shot.”

Matt grinned, feeling his heart start to sing in excitement. “Great! Meet me at the chapel tomorrow, I can uh, I can start showing you the ropes.”

“Just so we’re clear-” he poked Matt’s chest, making him snicker, “If I get possessed again or I lose an eye or someone vomits on me, I quit, capiche?”

“Capiche, Foggy,” he answered with a chuckle.

When was the last time Foggy had been to church?

Had to be… almost a decade or two at this point, not since middle school at least.

Standing here now, as the door swung shut behind him, Foggy couldn’t help feeling like a kid walking into the principal’s office. Something about the statues and big windows and crosses made him feel like God was watching him specifically and preparing for a major scolding. Which, all things considered, was probably the most ridiculous idea Foggy had since agreeing to train to be an exorcist.

Ah. Guess he just didn’t have good ideas lately, did he?

Someone had lit the candles at one of the altars, in those little red jar things, though no one sat in the pews or up at the pedestal beneath the statue of Christ, leaving the chapel empty and quiet. It was sort of nice in a way, if a bit too religious for Foggy. Matt had mentioned being catholic back in college, was this the kind of thing that did it for him? Made him feel at ease?

Heh, and now he, Foggy Nelson, was working for a church he didn’t believe in. That wasn’t heresy or anything right? How did that work?

A tapping sound caught his attention, almost making him startle as he turned to find the source, relaxing when he saw a familiar figure and his cane. Matt gave him a smile, “You’re early.”

“I uh, I like to be early, y’know, especially for a new job.” Foggy took his lapels and adjusted them, fixing his tie too. “Even uh, even dressed up for it. Figured we ought to at least look like we work together.”

“How responsible,” Matt chuckled. “Though uh, I was, planning to pray before you showed up, y’know for luck.”

Foggy couldn’t help scrunching his nose a bit, “Ah, right, well… I uh, don’t have to do that, do I…?” He gestured vaguely with his hands despite how he knew Matt couldn’t see that.

His friend shrugged, “I’d recommend it. Either that or meditation. Clearing your mind helps keep your nerves steady when things get dicey.” He motioned for Foggy to follow before carefully making his way down the row among the pews. 

Hesitant, Foggy trailed after him, sticking his hands in his pockets. “It’s just, bad experiences with a church before, and y’know I always feel like I’m patronizing people when I pray with them. I just, don’t really get it, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah I do.” Matt glanced back to shoot him a smile, “Just focus on finding something worth fighting for, think about that.”

“I, think I can do that,” Foggy hummed, following him to sit on the bench closest to the front. His eyes lingered on the emaciated figure hanging on the cross above them, and he couldn’t help feeling a little uncomfortable. Beside him, holding his cane and hanging his head, Matt went very quiet, like he wasn’t even sitting there.

Weren’t churches supposed to be welcoming? The quiet peaceful? Somehow all of it felt, strange, like Foggy shouldn’t be here, like he didn’t belong. Maybe that was true, he hadn’t exactly talked to the Big Man since he was a kid, and the things he’d seen at Landman and Zach were enough to make him question what kind of god would put people like that in the world. Then again, when you played those simulator video games, were you, as a player, aware of what every little simulated character was doing? Especially in the really big games?

Ones with multiple planets must make it impossible to keep track of everyone, Foggy decided, folding his arms and leaning back in the pew. At least the stained glass was pretty, the lights of a rustling tree outside making the colors dance in the sunlight.

Karen might like it here, when it was empty like this. She had a phobia or something about churches, said they made her uncomfortable, and maybe he’d picked that up without meaning to, but this place seemed nice. Besides, she’d have him and Matt with her, they’d keep her safe from whatever she was afraid of. Not like he was about to force her to come or anything, that’d be the biggest dick move of the century and he liked Karen, he wouldn’t do that to her.

God… seeing what the demon had done to her made his heart ache. Sure he’d lost an unhealthy amount of weight and was bruised and burned but Karen hadn’t done anything wrong and this morning she’d barely been able to lift her arm with the bruise spreading across her shoulder. Foggy felt just awful! As if somehow that was his fault!

No, no it hadn’t been his fault, and he had a chance now to keep that from happening to anyone else. Yeah, yeah that could be something worth fighting for, all those innocent bystanders, who had no idea what happened to their loved ones.

He grinned a little, nodding to himself. How hard could it be compared to passing the bar exam and law school?

“You’re bored out of your mind, aren’t you?” Foggy couldn’t help jumping when Matt spoke up suddenly, turning to face him. 

Foggy rolled his eyes, “Yeah okay, I am. Sorry! I tried! Really!”

“No no it’s fine, takes practice,” Matt said with a grin and a little head tilt. “How about something a little more fun?”

“Something tells me our definitions of fun are still very different.” But he can’t help smiling too, absolutely feeling ready to learn about demons and demon bullshit.

They stood together and Matt offered an arm, “Right this way then, Exorcist Nelson.”

“Alright alright don’t make it weirder than it is,” Foggy snorted, taking the offered arm. “Lead the way.”

Chapter Text

Neither noticed, as they left the chapel bickering lightly like old friends tend to do when they fall into those old habits, that someone had been waiting for them to go. Before the door even shut all the way, she slipped inside, pausing a moment to stare, dread knotting in her chest.

Karen swallowed hard, taking a slow breath, gripping her cane like a safety blanket. I’m fine, it’s fine. They’re not here, no one here knows who I am, it’s… it’s okay.

Maybe she should’ve come in with her friends, maybe it’d have been easier with company. Certainly now she wished Foggy were there to lean on, her legs had been aching terribly after all the excitement yesterday, she’d had to use her cane to get here without losing balance or making the flareup worse. It had been a miracle she’d had the spoons to make dinner, but then again, cooking had always helped her calm down, to feel normal again.

Slowly, she made her way through the pews, taking a seat closer to the front, but not all the way, in a sunny patch from one of the windows where it felt a little warmer, where she wouldn’t be noticed. 

In the back of her mind, their words rung like a church bell, calling her sick, unnatural, an affront to God’s graces. One would think they would’ve been kinder, given all she had been through, given the things the bible said, but they had been nothing but cruel.

Maybe the possession, maybe it was a sign, a sign she was still welcome here, among the righteous and holy. Or maybe she had just gotten her hopes up.

Just, she had to start somewhere, and this was somewhere.

Folding her hands in prayer on the top of her cane, Karen bowed her head, not sure if she should ask for forgiveness, or if she even can for what she’d done. Maybe she ought to start simple, ask for a welcoming, perhaps for peace, perhaps for Foggy to be safe when faced with demons. She bit her lip, took a steadying breath, and began in a voice almost too soft to hear.

“Please… please protect my friend Foggy in this, new venture in life. Please don’t punish him for the things I’ve done, for my sins…” She gripped the top of her cane a little tighter, pressing her head into her hands. Ever since then all she’d done was try to make up for it, to be good and kind, to help others like the pastor had always said. 

It hadn’t worked.

When she’d hit puberty, the church had turned on her in so many ways. They’d called her a liar, a heretic, a fake who used the image of the Lord and corrupted it for her own selfish gains. She was proof, they had said, that humanity corrupted all it touched, that women were a blight on this earth and only capable of sin, that even angels weren’t safe from their sinning and lust. Outdated, old world sexist bullshit.

No matter what she’d done, it had never been good enough. Her father, who knew the scripture almost as well as the pastor, told her every day that she had sinned, how she was wrong and her pain was God reminding her that she had to earn her place in this world, and her sins would make her pain worse. So she prayed, she worked, she tried and she tried and nothing changed.

When she was little, when her father had still talked about her mother, instead of pretending she didn’t exist, Karen had always wondered if that’s why she’d left. Had she grown tired of the constant abuse and simply left? Why hadn’t she taken Karen with her? Surely she knew what would come when she grew up, how everything would change, how they would all hate her and how the whole world would hate her if they knew what she had done and who she was.

She had never been good enough for them, for that place, and then she’d proved them all right that she was nothing but a horrible person and a sinner. She didn’t deserve kindness or help, she didn’t deserve to be welcomed back into God’s light or any of that.

And yet…

And yet without even knowing her, without seeing her face, Matt had agreed to help her. He’d put himself in harm’s way for her. Part of her felt bad for it, like somehow she’d manipulated him into thinking she was something worth pity, worth caring about, but… No, no he’d chosen to help her, for Foggy.

It felt good knowing Foggy  had him as a friend again, he would probably be a better companion than Karen had ever been and ever would be. With how much she’d lied, she didn’t deserve any of it.

Her prayer continued. “I, I know it’s been too long, I know I’m not worthy of any of it but… Please, show me, show me how to be better, so I can, so I can keep these good things I have. I promise I’ll try but I just… I need a little help. Please… Please… ” 

The chapel stayed silent, the sun still shone down warm where she sat, and somewhere outside a car backfired.

Karen glanced up when a door off to one side closed with a soft creak. She saw two women, one dressed casually, the other like a nun, carrying a few books each and talking softly together, and despite how they both looked harmless, Karen’s heart skipped a beat and she was quick to bow her head again. Irrational as it was, she felt they could see right through her.

If she listened, she could just barely make out their conversation.

One woman leaned over to the nun, her voice low. “Tell me, does something look curious about her? Or is it just me?”

“You’re right, though I can’t quite put my finger on it,” the nun said softly, frowning a bit.

“It’s odd.” Karen fought the urge to flinch when they pointed her way. “Look how the sun falls on her hair, it’s rather beautiful isn’t it?”

“It is,” the nun hummed, curious.

“She’s very pretty,” the woman continued.

“Quite so, she would be perfect for leading those who have gone astray.” The nun smiled fondly at the thought.

“Oh if only she would join you in the convent sister,” the woman chuckled as they exited the chapel.

Karen’s palms felt sweaty and her mouth felt dry, heart threatening to race out of her chest. Could they know? Did they have any idea at all? She, she couldn’t be found out, she would lose everything she’d managed to build for herself! She had to leave, now.

Trying to stay calm, she almost ran from the church, her already weak ankles threatening to roll as she hurried down the steps, only stopping to catch herself when she reached the sidewalk. Why did she have to pay for her parents’ choices? For her father’s devotion? Her mother’s failures? Their choices had marked her permanently, etched pain into her bones and into her mind that she could never escape. She existed because of their sins, her existence was pain because of them, and the life she’d built could be destroyed by all of it if she wasn’t very, very careful.

At, at least she had Foggy now, she supposed. Their chance meeting, their friendship, the home they’d cobbled together with duct tape and elbow grease, what would she do without them? 

And though the thought made her a little uneasy, maybe she would have another friend in Matt too, he seemed nice. He’d probably be a good friend too, until he found out what she’d done, what was wrong with her. Maybe it would be safer to just, hide it all, forever, pretend she was someone else like she always had and pretend to be normal a little while longer. (No, no they wouldn’t think she was cool, they’d hate her, everyone hated her for what she represented and-)

A breeze made Karen startle as it tugged on her hair and her skirt, pulling her out of her anxious spiral. Overhead, the clouds drifted out of the way from the sun, allowing it to shine down on the street again, down onto the trees standing between houses in what little space they could find. She took a slow breath, forcing the tension out of her shoulders before they started to ache. 

It, it was a lovely sunny day, really she should try to enjoy it while she had the time. Maybe, maybe go to a park, assuming her knees didn’t give out halfway there. 

“Hey! Hey Karen!” 

She turned, afraid for all of a split second before breaking into a relieved smile. “I thought you guys were going to be, y’know, busy all day.”

Foggy gave half a shrug as he walked up, the box in his arms rattling slightly. “Well, y’know, plans change a little.”

“He refused to stay in my apartment,” Matt added, stopping beside him, a bag over one shoulder. “Insisted it was, how’d you phrase it… Giving him the creeps?”

“Look I was pretty damn sure I was going to find a dead rat in the corner or a serial killer’s weaponry display in the closet,” Foggy quickly snapped back, giving Matt a playful poke and making him laugh. Karen put a hand over her mouth to hide her smile, feeling all her fears and anxiety start to melt away.

“It, it’s not that bad is it? I mean come on, I’d notice a dead rat, cut me some slack.”

“It’s pretty bad.” He glanced at Karen, preparing to continue his teasing, only to falter and frown. Ah, he always got worried when she had to use her cane or, god forbid, her wheelchair at home. “Whoah hey Karen are you okay? Do you need a hand or anything?”

She couldn’t help blushing a bit in embarrassment, “No, no no it’s, it’s just my legs acting up after yesterday. Should’ve, should’ve been a bit more careful.”

“Something’s wrong with your legs?” Matt asked with a curious head tilt and matching concerned frown. Not pity, thankfully, Karen always hated when people treated her like she was some fragile thing that couldn’t handle herself, or worse one that needed to be babied. Maybe Matt felt the same way, maybe he understood.

So she tried to smile, fidgeting with her cane again and looking down at her shoes. “No, not technically. Just, chronic pain, no real name for it, but my back and my legs flare up from time to time, gets bad when I get stressed.”

“Well, lucky for me.” Matt offered her an arm. “I don’t need my cane for balance, so I can offer you someone to lean on.”

Foggy rolled his eyes at the clear subtle flirting and chivalry. “I’d offer but he’s making me carry all his notes.” He shook the box for effect, “They’re all tapes Karen! Hours and hours of tapes!”

That got Karen to giggle as she took Matt’s offered elbow, leaning on him, grateful to have a little help with how wobbly her right knee had begun to feel. He waited till she seemed settled before they started to walk again. “Still, thank you, Matt. I can uh, I guess I can try and help with whatever you two are doing today for a lesson.”

“We’re taking it slow,” he said with a soft smile, using his free hand to sweep his cane back and forth across the path. “Foggy is nowhere near ready for an actual demon, it’s going to be a while.”

“Good.” Karen fought a chuckle, “He can barely handle a screwdriver sometimes.”

“I am insulted, I am hurt and insulted,” Foggy pouted, reaching over to gently swat at Karen, who couldn’t stop her laughter. 

Matt frowned jokingly, tilting his head again. “Maybe I should’ve hired someone else.”

“Nope you’re stuck with me, both of you, we are doing this!” Foggy declared, shaking the box of tapes again, smiling despite the teasing.

As they walked, continuing to bicker and joke, Karen’s worries faded away into the dull ache of her knees, something she had learned to just live with these days. She had friends, and despite how money was tight, she was happy, happier here than she had ever been at home even with the daily struggle. She wasn’t alone, and though they didn’t need to know it yet, she would do anything to keep her friends close and safe.

Chapter Text

It took three weeks for Matt to think Foggy could handle a demon.

He turned out to be a godsend to have around really, kept things light, helped calm victims, and soaked up the lessons with surprising energy. Of course when Matt teased him for being so interested, he would brush it off and say he just wanted to do a good job, but Matt got the sneaking suspicion he found the work equal parts fascinating and fulfilling.

Because that’s the thing, demonology was fascinating. For every culture on earth there were demons that resembled their nightmares, demons who embodied the sins they damned and the flaws they carried. Despite that, in essence, every demon that came to earth really was the same- a horrible little parasite made of fears and pain- and they could all be forced out with conviction and determination.

Sure it did help to know the culture that had created the demon, being able to strike close to home helped to throw them off their game, shake them loose, but in the end any words spoken with enough will and strength could force a demon out. Joking of course, Matt told him he could memorize the script from The Exorcist film and probably do just as well as any of the old masters who spoke in Latin and waved rosaries around.

Foggy got to see this in action when a young man came into the chapel with his girlfriend to speak with the pastor. He and Matt had hidden in the wings listening in as the young man explained the horrific nightmares he’d been having- night terror screaming and waking up in a cold sweat kind. Worse yet, his notebooks had all been filled with indecipherable scribblings that, with Foggy’s help, they later translated the demonic equivalent of a teenager venting into their diary. (It would’ve been funny if it didn’t seem like blood had been spilled on some of the pages)

With a bit of coaxing and a hearty slap on the back, the demon bothering the poor young man got ejected out in a dramatic black splat, and Foggy had to stop himself from laughing at the whole situation. Consciously he knew most exorcisms weren’t like this, easy, funny, relieving, but by comparison to what happened to him in the basement, it all seemed rather tame and silly.

And, perhaps it gave him confidence he really hadn’t earned yet.

But Matt seemed to agree, it was time for Foggy to give it a real shot on his own.

Thankfully, New York was crawling with demons if you knew where to look. Hidden among the destitute and sick, these fiends would sink their teeth in the vulnerable and drag them further from the light, with no one there to offer a hand.

It was a homeless man who found them for Foggy’s first exorcism, a friend of his had been getting sicker and sicker and then the smell- Could they at least check in on her? Make sure she was okay? Foggy tried to smile, reassure the man she would be alright, but Matt had that look on his face, that dark look.

The whole alley smelled like sulfur when they found it, strong enough anyone could smell it, strong enough to send Foggy into a coughing fit. 

“Are you sure you want to handle this alone?” Matt asked as they stood in the mouth of the alley, tapping one hand on his cane.

“I need to learn somehow,” Foggy said with a steadying breath. “But um, please jump in when I inevitably fuck all this up.”

Matt tried to offer him a smile, “I will. Remember, it’s not about the words you say, but the conviction behind them.“

He could only nod uneasily. “Yeah, yeah got it, just that simple.”

Slowly, Foggy stepped into the alley, hands opening and closing nervously at his sides. The smell grew stronger the further back he moved, stepping carefully over garbage and broken glass, until he could hear the sound of labored breathing. All of it brought back the memories of his own possession, making his stomach twist with unease. 

Carefully he peered behind a dumpster, through a gap in a makeshift shelter, and sucked in a gasp. An old woman huddled in the back, her eyes vacant, her face sunken, the smell of sulfur almost insufferably strong. Oh that poor woman, how long had she been carrying this thing? How long had it been feeding on her?

Foggy swallowed hard, gripping the curtain door of the shelter and pulling it away, allowing gloomy midday light to filter in. The woman flinched back with a hiss, her eyes going fully dark before she threw up her hands, trembling. Though, it was hard to tell if he’d actually seen that, had it been a trick of light and shadow?

He knelt, keeping his voice low and firm. “We both know this isn’t where you’re supposed to be, is it?’

The demon did not react, didn’t even seem to flinch. Foggy swallowed and, not knowing what else to do, he tried again. “This body is not yours, you’ve got to go, my guy.”

“Franklin?”

The helpless, tragic tone struck right to his heart, making it jump in fear. “You, you need to leave her, leave this woman alone.”

“Oh my sweet boy,” the old woman continued in a wavering voice, lifting her eyes, truly a pitiful and tragic sight. “Is that really you? It’s been so long, I missed you.”

Foggy couldn’t help backing up, his heart pounding in his chest. What the hell was this? Was this demon seriously trying to convince him that this random homeless old woman, who on any other occasion he’d gladly take in and make a hot meal for, was his grandmother? The same Grandmother who’d been dead for at least a decade and was undoubtedly anywhere but Hell? (That old woman had been a saint…) 

No, no it couldn’t be her, he couldn’t believe it, he couldn’t doubt himself. The smell, the skeletal look of the old woman, those eyes! There was a demon at work here, he had to be sure of it. “You, you aren’t supposed to be in this world. You need to go back to the place you crawled out of and get out of this sweet old lady before, before I call in backup! You won’t like him!”

Again his heart skipped a beat in terror as the old woman stood, her body shaking, limbs moving awkwardly, like a stop motion puppet from the 80s.  She reached out her withered, bony hands towards him, her lips pulling back in an awkward and terrifying smile showing decayed teeth. “Oh Foggy dear, come to Grandma won’t you?”

Liar! Lies lies lies LIES! Foggy backed up again, gritting his teeth and sucking in a breath to steel himself. He squared his shoulders, pointing an accusing finger at the possessed woman. “I’m not going to warn you again- GET OUT OF THIS WOMAN’S BODY!”

It startled him to see the command affect the woman, making her seize violently, throwing her head back with a gurgle as she dropped to her knees. Wind rushed around them, making plastic bags shuffle and things rattle. Foggy fought a grin and raised his voice again, despite how corny it felt. “I command you to leave this realm and this woman! Return to that dark little place you came from!”

The wind picked up even further, almost knocking him off balance as the woman fell onto all fours, heaving and retching, a disgusting black ooze starting to drip from her mouth and her nose. Her eyes had lost their color and focus, her hands twisted into claws against the pavement, and again Foggy felt doubtful. Was he doing this right? Was he hurting her?

“Keep it up Foggy!” he heard Matt call, encouraging, determined.

“Last warning you demonic fuck- GET! OUT!” he forced himself to say, shouting as loud as possible over the growing whirlwind gale. 

The homeless woman let out a shriek of agony and vomited onto the ground, a black, eel like thing writhing in the mass before she fell to the side. Foggy couldn’t help jumping back and shrieking like a girl as the serpentine thing took off down the alley, only to get pinned and crushed under Matt’s boot. 

Now normally Foggy would’ve demanded to know what that had been, but an unhealthy rattle came from the old woman, dragging his attention back. He knelt by her side, rolling her onto her back, his heart quickly sinking. She seemed cold to the touch, so still and her eyes unfocused. Oh, oh god was she…?

He put his fingers against her throat, then her wrist, and all the fight fled from him.

The old woman he’d tried so hard to save, she was gone. “Oh god… oh god… ”

“Foggy?” Matt’s footsteps stopped behind him, just out of view, but Foggy couldn’t bring himself to lift his head.

He swallowed hard, “Sh-she’s dead.”

He flinched as Matt placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, “Demons, they eat you from the inside out. Not, not everyone survives.”

“I-I know.” He wiped at his eyes, trying not to act like he was crying. “You, you told me before I just, it… It hits harder when it’s, right in front of you. God that poor woman.”

Feeling unsteady, Foggy got to his feet, Matt’s hand still on his back. “Foggy, hey, why don’t you go call the police, get some air. I’ll stay with her, say a few words.”

Giving a weak little nod, he shuffled out of the alley, leaning heavily on the outer corner and finally taking in some clean non-brimstone-filled New York air. Ah exhaust, how could you be refreshing?

As he put his weight against the wall, Foggy felt his heart thundering in his chest, like it was going to beat itself out and book it down the street. His hands shook as he drew out his phone, and his voice wavered when he spoke to the 911 operator, saying he and his friend were checking in on someone for another vagrant and the woman fell over dead. Of course, when he looked now, the ‘black ooze’ looked more like normal bile and blood.

That horrible creature, it pretended to be his grandmother, it killed that poor woman! And why??? So it could have a little more power?

The thought made his hands curl into fists, knotting up in his shirt and jacket. Now he knew for sure, he hated demons with every fiber of his heretical non-church-going being. Anything that would hurt people like this, masquerade as human, pretend it cared to it could get close enough to wrap its hands around your throat and snap your neck, chew on your soul for a snack- bastards! All of them!

From here on out, if he ever spotted one, if he even had a hunch, he’d take it down, rip it out and send its ass back where it came from.

He glanced up at the sound of sirens, taking a steadying breath and squaring his shoulders back. Yeah, yeah he could do this.

Especially with the help of a good friend, who looked very worried when he joined Foggy to talk to the cops. Seems he’d done this before, because Matt knew just what to say to smooth things over, because honestly what would a man of the cloth gain by murdering some old woman he didn’t even know the name of? Foggy tried not to let it hurt to hear it called murder, in a way he had killed her, hadn’t he?

Still, he managed to smile obligingly and they were out of there before the Crime Scene team even showed up. Now Foggy had fully expected to go right home afterwards and collapse into bed for a well earned cry, but Matt took him by the arm and, gently but firmly, pulled him a few blocks over to a bar he knew well, Josie’s. Eh, yeah, he could use a drink, that might help.

They ended up sitting at a table at the front, in the window, watching the street beyond. It felt nice to watch the city go about its afternoon as they sipped watered down beer and listened to the ambience of the bar around them. Foggy couldn’t help sighing though, looking down at his drink, trying not to grimace at the little floaties in it.

Though he glanced up again when Matt set his glass down. “How are you holding up, Fogs? It’s always intense doing it alone the first time.”

“I…” The answer caught in his throat, the image of the old woman’s dead eyes, the word murder ringing in his mind. No, no she was free now, that thing wasn’t using her like a puppet anymore. “I think, I’m getting better. This is just, a lot, you know?”

Matt nodded, fidgeting with one arm of his glasses, bit of a nervous tic. “You can uh, you can take a few days, if you need. The first time a patient dies always weighs heavily.”

“Oh yeah I’m definitely feeling that,” Foggy grumbled, taking a hearty drink of that cheap beer. “But, I’ve got a renewed hatred for those things. What it did to her Matt…”

He saw Matt’s grip on his drink grow tight enough to make his knuckles go white. “I’ve yet to meet a kind demon, selfish monsters, all of them. Feels a little harsh but…”

“No no from what I’ve seen, you’re right.” Foggy pursed his lips and frowned, something coming to his mind from years of research in the world of demons in pop culture via horror movies. “To think… they all used to be angels.”

He scowled a little when Matt actually laughed at that, shaking his head and smiling slightly. “Not, not quite. If my research is right, most of the fallen angels are high ranking now, generals and lords, rulers. They’ve got no reason to come to earth, there’s nothing to gain. The demons we see are… made of human sin. Pain, anger, violence, all of it given form and voice.”

As he spoke, Matt’s smile fell again, somber, and for a moment Foggy wondered if he was still talking about demons. Not one to pry, he just gave a frustrated shrug, figuring Matt would tell him when it became relevant.

“Fantastic. We’re only fighting the personification of human evil,” he said in a flat voice, taking another drink, hoping at some point the booze would actually start to kick in.

“The good news is that they all fear divinity the same,” Matt continued. “Doesn’t matter where they’re from.”

“That’s why you can say anything and get them out, right?”

“Something like that. Of course when that doesn’t work you have to get more specific and use particular rituals but…” He gestured vaguely with one hand, giving a little head-wobble. “We’ll talk about that when we get there.”

“Hear here.” Foggy raised his glass a little. “What about a toast? Real quick, to the old lady.”

“Cheers, to the old lady.” Matt raised his too and they toasted. “May she rest easy now, far from hellfire.”

“May we all rest far from hellfire someday,” Foggy grinned, finishing off his beer and actually finally starting to feel a little better.

Ignorant and blissfully unaware that he was much closer to hellfire than he would’ve liked.

Chapter Text

According to his phone, the New Moon would be any night now, which explained the spike in demonic activity. One would think with all the legends about the full moon that with its full light demonic activity would be at its peak. Ironically, the light of the moon itself drove back the darkness, literally, metaphorically, and demonically. Only when the world fell to its darkest in the cycle did demons get especially bold.

Matt could feel it prickling down his spine and just below his scalp, the slowly rising hellfire in Hell’s Kitchen. At its peak he always struggled to keep his calm, to keep the devil inside him controlled and chained behind his heart. It would be so easy to give into the anger and rip his foes apart, those weak pathetic excuses for demons who crawled up between cracks in the pavement to feed on the innocent, but he couldn’t, he had to be better than that.

By the light of morning, he sat in a sunny spot on the floor of his kitchen, eyes closed, simply trying to breathe. Not quite prayer, not quite meditation, just trying to push down on that welling fire in his chest and the voices he could hear in the shadows of the city. If he focused, he could just almost make out what they were whispering about, follow them and find the fiends before they ever made it to the streets, but again and again they were drowned out by the sounds of the living city. 

Car horns, shouting voices, laughter, crying, shouting, cheering, the drone of an airplane and the blaring horn of a ferry in the harbor, life, people, humanity and-

Foggy. Foggy. Foggy.

The electric voice of his phone made Matt startle out of his stupor, shaking his head back into focus and rubbing his eyes, the sounds of the city drifting into the background as his focus returned. He stood, shaking feeling back into his right foot and taking a coat from the back of one of his chairs where he’d hung it. The sound of his footsteps, soft as they were, still echoed in the empty little loft where he lived. (Discounted rent, a gift from a grateful family he’d helped)

He followed the ringing of his phone into the bedroom, unplugging it and flipping it open to answer. “It's a bit early for a conference call isn’t it?”

“No I’m right there with you, it’s too early for this,” came Foggy’s exhausted voice on the other side. Matt thought he heard the sound of the coffee machine beep somewhere in the background. “Just like you I was delightfully woken up by a ringing phone and a panicking holy man on the other end.”

“Panicking? What’s going on?” Matt asked, frowning deeply as he pinned his phone to his ear with his elbow to zip up his jacket. 

“Apparently he got woken up by another pastor who’s in some deep shit. Wouldn’t talk about it over the phone, bad juju or something.” Foggy paused, shifting the phone. “Okay but the point of all this is, they need us at the chapel A.S.A.P. Like an hour ago asap. Figured I’d swing by and grab you if-”

“Foggy I’m not completely helpless, I’ll meet you there,” Matt hummed, moving to gather his things, each of them sitting precisely where he knew they would be. “Something’s wrong though, isn’t it?”

“Gee I wonder where you got that idea from. Yeah I think it’s a possession, a really really bad one, has them spooked. Think we can handle it?” Followed by a slightly obnoxious slurping sound that made Matt roll his eyes.

Still, if it had them spooked into silence, they really should be prepared, just in case. “I’ll, bring some extra trinkets, and that notebook you left here the other night with those other incantations, in case you, in case we need it.”

“Right, right yeah that sounds like a plan. I’ll meet you there soon.”

“See you, be careful.”

“I should be telling you that!”

Matt smiled a little to himself as the call ended, bringing Foggy in had been the right call, he made all of this feel easier. Of course, now that he was involved, the constant risk of discovery hung over Matt, he couldn’t help feeling a little more anxious every time he saw Foggy. What would he say? What would he think?

He’d be pissed, for one, but… Maybe he’d understand…

Unlikely.

He tried not to let it bother him as he left, walking quickly towards the chapel, trying to cross as few streets as possible for his own safety. The items in his bag, a few rosaries, the notebook he mentioned, his own notes in braille, a small bottle of holy water, were a reassuring weight on his shoulder. Most of it was a bit for show, intimidation for the demon, but they certainly wouldn’t hurt if push came to shove.

As he rounded the corner onto the chapel’s block, Matt heard footsteps as Foggy ran up to him, taking his arm. “There you are! Come on, he’s waiting inside for us.”

“Quit acting like I’m late when you just got here too,” Matt countered with a little grin as they climbed the steps and hurried inside.

The first thing Matt noticed was an unfamiliar heartbeat, pounding, racing with terror as the older man dabbed his forehead with a cloth. It must be something dangerous to have a man like this terrified, most people were at least questioning the existence of demons when they came for help, but this man’s fear showed he knew for certain it wasn’t human. 

He stood immediately upon their arrival, stuffing the sweat damp kerchief into a pocket. Matt heard a soft sound of clicking beads, the man held a rosary in one trembling hand. “A-Are you the exorcists?”

“Yeah, that’s us,” Foggy answered, trying to keep his tone light and friendly, to put the man at ease. “Sorry we’re late but, how can we help you?”

“One of my parishioners,” he stammered, holding his rosary close to his chest. “Poor girl, something is very very wrong with her. She…” He mimed the sign of the cross over his chest as he tried to steady his breathing, “Good lord her parents found her crawling on the ceiling!”

Matt felt Foggy flinch, but clearly he tried to keep it cool and professional despite being uneasy. “God, that sounds terrible… Don’t worry, I think we’ll be able to help.” 

He nudged Matt, who gave a nod and a reassuring smile. “Just take us to her and we’ll handle the rest.”

“Oh bless you!” the man exclaimed, clasping his hands together. “Bless you!”

A short cab ride later and they were climbing the steps up to the victim’s apartment, the whole building seeming to be holding its breath. They passed other tenants, worried people whispering in spanish about demons and priests, praying over their own little crucifixes and bibles, terrified hearts beating in sync. When they entered the apartment, the mother sat on the couch, sobbing hard, the father holding her with one arm, the smell of blood lingering around him.

It had scratched him, badly, before they’d been able to restrain it.

Matt couldn’t help frowning, whatever this was, it was angry, and he could feel its hellfire starting to permeate every corner of this space. 

Opening the door to the little girl’s room made whatever it was inside her start to thrash and hiss again, the bed rattling as she struggled against the makeshift restraints of thick ropes and tape. 

“Oh this will be fun,” Foggy grumbled, rolling up his sleeves and stepping up. Carefully, Matt shut the door behind them, kneeling and digging in his bag for his supplies, listening closely as his partner stopped beside the bed. “Real mess you’ve made of this place buddy.”

The demon turned its head slowly to face him, hissing from the back of its throat as it arched its back. It growled and began to thrash again, head whipping back and forth, hair flailing about a tangled matted mess.

“Is that all you have to say?” Foggy asked, mouth twisting into a scowl.

“Eat shit you fat stupid fuck!” the demon barked in an unnaturally deep voice, showing off the sharp teeth it had forced into the little girl’s mouth and the way they’d cut her lips and tongue, spit going flying.

But Foggy grinned, starting to reach into his pockets, “There we go. I already ate enough shit for the day so you’re going to have to come up with something a bit better.”

The bed rattled violently as the demon began to thrash again, slamming it into the wall and into furniture on either side, the legs even starting to lift up an inch or so. The little girl’s joint popped as this thing threw her body side to side- at this rate it was going to make her dislocate something! Foggy cursed under his breath and put a knee up on the bed, pinning the demon down with one hand and drawing a rosary out with the other, holding it over the creature. “Alright that’s enough! Get out of that kid before I come in there and drag you out!”

“He only keeps you around for your eyes!” the demon hissed. “You’re fucking useless and when he takes what he wants from you you’re going to die and burn down here with the rest of us!”

“Nice try, you think I haven’t heard shit like that before?” He pressed the rosary charm into its forehead, “Get the fuck out of this world!”

The demon shrieked, tearing its head away from the burning charm with a twist and sinking its teeth into Foggy’s exposed wrist. Smoke immediately began to leak from the bite as Foggy yanked his arm back with a shout of pain, the wound red and inflamed like a burn, with unnaturally dark bruised spots mapping out each tooth that didn’t puncture the skin.

As he held the wound, gritting his teeth and watching the demon, it threw its head back and shrieked, ear piercing and violent, making the whole room tremble as a wave of force burst out from it. The force threw Foggy back into the wall, making his head slam against the drywall, causing small chunks to fall away. He’d barely landed before the demon lifted him off his feet, pinned to the wall by an invisible hand around his throat, feet kicking at the air and unable to get purchase.

He made for an excellent distraction.

Matt darted over to the bedside, using one hand to cover the demon’s eyes as it thrashed, using the other to press a charm of his own into its throat.

“You’re not welcome here,” he began in a low, dangerous voice.

The demon gnashed its teeth, snarling, and then it spoke again.

But, not in english this time, in something far older and far more sinister, a language Matt understood because of how it reverberated in his bones and pulled at his soul. “Hypocrite! Bastard demon fuck! You should burn with me!”

Matt grit his teeth and kept going, reciting a prayer he’d memorized when his training began, the words coming easy even as his chest began to burn and his nose began to bleed. The demon kicked and screamed and thrashed, smoke starting to curl from where Matt held it, hellfire starting to leak through the little girl’s skin as he pulled and pulled the demonic presence closer to the surface, close enough he could grab it. 

He had to act fast, Foggy had been gasping for air just too long for comfort, his thundering heartbeat almost as loud as the sheer utter chaos in the room. 

And then, a different kind of growl.

A real growl, as something crawled up into the little girl’s mouth, clearly intending to escape in the madness and dissolve into some shadow.

When Matt paused for air, feeling fire beneath his skin, he heard the skittering of the thing’s claws on the little girl’s teeth and his hand snapped out, grabbing the burning slithering thing by the neck. It shrieked in terror as he dragged it out of the girl, its body smoking and serpentine with too many little claws clicking and scratching.

“ You shouldn’t have tested me, ” Matt found himself growling at the demonic thing, slipping into the same hellish tongue it had used, dragging it over to the window and ripping the curtains open to let hot midday sun pour in.

The demon screamed in pain as it began to burn in the light and Matt dropped it, staggering back, reaching out blindly until he found a piece of furniture to lean on. He heard the little girl go limp as the last of the creature sizzled away in the sun, her heartbeat and breathing steady. Across the room, Foggy dropped to the ground, wheezing but each gasp coming easier now, though he was absolutely unconscious, from lack of oxygen and slamming his head.

He could hear that other preacher and the parents running to the door, knocking and begging to be let in, but they couldn’t- 

With a shudder, Matt fell to his knees, pushing the hellfire in his chest down and down until it felt like nothing more than embers. Bit unconventional, literally ripping the demon out; most people, even the holiest of men, would’ve been immediately possessed by such an act. A demon that was full of rage in a body with its full strength would be incredibly dangerous.

It hadn’t been able to take hold of him, but then again, Matt wasn’t exactly a… good host for a demonic presence.

When the parents finally got the door unlocked, the last of Matt’s strength slipped away and he collapsed to the floor, at the mercy of his dreams.

He always had the same nightmare, when an exorcism left him drained.

The heat of flames, the rattle of chains, distant screaming voices he didn’t, couldn’t recognize. An ache deep in his bones, hands twisted into claws and a weight on his head like a crown, like horns. Hot wind tugged on leathery wings he shouldn’t have, and the voices of suffering called out to him, his name echoing over and over and over

A call to the devil inside him.

A call he could never, never answer.

Chapter Text

Foggy could count how many times he’d woken up on someone else’s couch with a pounding hangover. Of course, he wouldn’t because it’d paint him as far more irresponsible and far less sexy than he really was, but he could remember every time and they were very potent reminders that when someone offers you another drink, do the Matt Thing and turn it down unless the end goal is a migraine and potentially a blackout.

Then again, he hadn’t been drinking, it wasn’t alcohol that made his head hurt.

No he distinctly remembered being pinned to the wall in a very unsexy way and choked with what felt like the clawed hand of Andre the friggin Giant. Then… he’d hit his head and, now here he was, on a couch that smelled like old Febreeze staring at a popcorn ceiling. Lifting a hand to his throat, Foggy could prod a little and feel the bruised spots where the demon’s invisible hand gripped him. Guess he needed to wear a scarf for a bit…

When he twisted to try and see where he was, squinting through the pain, he could see that he’d been squeezed onto the smaller loveseat because the actual couch now sat occupied by one very unconscious Matt Murdock. A cloth had been placed over his forehead and his whole face looked red with fever, guess the demon had knocked them both out cold.

With a groan, Foggy tried to sit up, only to be hit with a wave of dizziness that made him drop back onto the pillows with a pained noise.

He tried to force his eyes open again as little footsteps came over to him, and he found the little girl standing beside him. She’d been untied, and her messy hair pulled back into pigtails, and a large bandaid placed over her throat where presumably she’d been hurt. Already she looked so much better, healthier. “Mister? Are you awake?”

“Y-yeah, god that hurts,” Foggy mumbled, putting a hand to his forehead. “You… you’re alright, right kid?”

The little girl nodded, lifting her hands to show the bandages wrapped around her wrists where the restraints had chaffed her. “Your monster scared off the little monster.”

Foggy couldn’t help pausing, his face twisting in confusion before realizing the girl had probably seen Matt as a monster in her half-conscious state. (He TOLD Matt those glasses made him look creepy when paired with the dark clothes but the guy just laughed and said they were too comfortable) “That’s, that’s our job, hehe. Where, where are your parents?” 

“Papa y Mr. Anderson are cleaning my room, and Mama went to get something from the store,” the little girl answered, playing with her hair. “She told me to keep an eye on you.”

“Smart woman,” he nods, giving the girl a playful finger-gun. “I uh, can, can I use your phone?”

She nodded and went to fetch the home phone from its little station, bringing it back to him and watching him dial. Well, at least until her father called for her and she scampered off, already so much more lively. Foggy smiled to himself, glad to see they’d actually helped someone this time, and hit dial.

“Hello?” came Karen’s voice on the other end, sounding tired.

“Hey Karen, it’s uh, it’s Foggy.” He rubbed his eyes, wishing the throbbing headache would stop. “So, good news, kid’s fine. Bad news, Matt and I need a ride and to sleep all afternoon.”

“I hope you’ll be alright with a cab, I don’t think I can drive today,” Karen hummed, and he could imagine her pulling her blanket around herself a little tighter. “Bad day for my knees, that’s all. I’ll uh, I’ll call a cab, come and get you.”

“You are a saint ,” Foggy sighed, relaxing with a tired smile.

He heard the distinct creak of the couch at home. “What happened to the little girl? You sound exhausted.”

“It uh, well, it was bad. I got full force choked against the wall.” He mimed an aggressive force-grip with one hand and then let it fall on his chest. “Matt had to finish up and he, doesn’t look good, completely out of it still.”

“You said so yourself, he’s stubborn. I’m, I’m sure he’s fine, we can get him back on his feet.”

“Yeah I hope so,” Foggy huffed, looking towards Matt again. “No way any of us can afford a hospital bill at this point…”

“We’ll, we’ll figure it out. I’ll be there soon, well, as soon as you give me the address.”

“Oh yeah duh, of course.”

Only after he made sure she’d end up at the right place did Foggy try to sit up again. His headache pounded for just a moment as the blood rushed, leaving his vision full of spots until his balance steadied. He gave his head a light shake, grumbling about friggin demons as he stood, carefully making his way over to Matt. Their hosts had carefully placed his glasses and cane on the coffee table nearby, glad to know those didn’t need to be replaced.

Kneeling beside the couch, Foggy couldn’t help thinking back to when he’d first seen Matt’s eyes. He’d worn those old sunglasses almost all the time those first few days back in college, admitting some people found the scars unsettling. Chemical burns, he’d called them, under his eyes and just a little across the bridge of his nose, left over from the accident that left him blind and comatose. Jokingly he called it a miracle, and Foggy couldn’t help wondering if maybe he hadn’t been kidding about that part.

Matt made a small noise in his sleep, a whimper of fear maybe? Could he be having a nightmare? 

Hesitant, Foggy reached out to touch his shoulder, trying to rouse him. “Matt?”

With almost unnatural speed and strength, Matt’s eyes snapped open and he grabbed Foggy’s wrist hard. He looked terrified, eyes searching without seeing. Foggy startled too, trying to pull his hand back, “Shit Matt easy! Calm down!”

His voice seemed to finally get Matt to relax, his grip relenting and letting his friend pull away. “Foggy? Is, are you…”

“I’m alright,” Foggy grumbled, rubbing his wrist. “Bit of a headache, neck hurts and my throat is going to be sore tomorrow, but, I think I'm alright.”

Matt nodded, sitting up with a groan, the cool cloth on his forehead falling into his lap with a little wet sound. “Good, good… Sorry, I just…” He rubbed his eyes, sighing through his nose. “I wasn’t, sure if I’d actually gotten it.”

Careful, Foggy reached out to put a hand on his back, feeling a little bad when Matt jumped at the touch. “It’s okay dude, don’t worry about it. Karen’s on her way, she’s bringing a cab to take us home.”

He shook his head, moving his legs off the couch to stand. “No, no I should, I need to go. Clear my head, I-” And the sound cut off as a sharp pain raced through from his eye to the back of his skull, making his eyes water as he put his head in his hands with a groan.

Foggy sat down beside him, hand on his back again, steady and gentle. “Matt, dude, you’re not doing well, that fight took it out of you and frankly I don’t feel comfortable letting you go home alone like this.”

Gritting his teeth, Matt managed a nod, though he hated how weak his voice came out. He couldn’t focus through the pain, the growing ache in his back and the pounding in his head. “Yeah, yeah okay, okay. Where, where’s my stuff?”

“Here… uh.. Ah here they are.” Carefully, Foggy pressed each item into Matt’s hands, which trembled slightly as he slipped those red glasses back on. 

He caught Foggy’s wrist before he could pull away, “Foggy… Thank you. Seriously.”

“Anytime, Matt,” he answered, giving an exhausted smile.

Before Karen arrived, the little girl’s parents insisted on sending them off not only with what cash they managed to pull together but also fresh enchiladas the mother insisted they need only heat up and would taste amazing. It wasn’t a fantastic grand payout but it felt real, it felt kind and human and that’s what mattered.

When the cab arrived for them, Matt found himself frozen to the spot on the sidewalk when Foggy opened the door. He knew Karen sat inside, he could hear the way her heartbeat picked up anxiously when he didn’t get in, but there was something else around her that suddenly made him uneasy, made his skin prickle with heat. Casually, he suggested Foggy sit in the middle, so he didn’t drop the tray of food, that would help to put just a little more distance between him and Karen.

Even if he couldn’t explain why, suddenly, she made him feel on edge. 

Because she definitely wasn’t possessed, he couldn’t even catch a whiff of sulfur when she spoke, telling the driver to take them back to Foggy’s. No, in fact he thought, just for a moment, he smelled sage.

But, sage, that would mean-

His thoughts scattered as another sharp pain shot through his head, racing all the way down his spine and making him shudder, goosebumps and a dreadful itch spreading out along his back and arms. He couldn’t hang on much longer, could only half hear Foggy saying Matt could use the little guest room as long as he needed, he was a friend after all.

Matt just managed a nod, rubbing his eyes with one hand, the other gripping his cane like it might stabilize him. He felt his nose start to bleed, grit his teeth a little harder, tried to stay focused.

The sage smell made him want to be sick.

Or maybe that was something else talking.

He couldn’t help limping by the time they reached the house, and Foggy helped him all the way upstairs into the guest room. If he had any comment about how Matt immediately locked the door, he didn’t mention it, and distantly Matt heard him collapse into his own bed down the hall. 

Something else was in this house with them, not demonic, almost divine, and just wondering about it set him further on edge, made everything sound like a threat.

Again the pain rushed up his spine and he couldn’t fight it anymore, dropping to his knees, his cane clattering out of reach. He couldn’t, couldn’t let them see, he had to keep it quiet so they didn’t-

Another pulse of pain and Matt wrapped his hands around his chest, biting down the noise of pain as something in his back began to shift against his will. He had to keep breathing, keep calm, panic only made it worse. You’re not a monster, but there’s a monster in you kid, you can’t fight it forever but when you have to, you can’t back down.

He curled up tight on himself as something began to tug on the back of his shirt, growing until it tore out free, stretching with the creaking of bones clicking into place. How long had it been since he’d spread his wings? Since he’d flown? 

Not long enough.

The demon doesn’t control you, you control it. This is your body god damn it!

He had to fight it, to fight this change, to fight the demon clawing at his skin seeking freedom. Repress repress repress- don’t feel it, be human be good be normal. Humanity could be forgiven, humanity was incredible and good and kind, he needed to stay human if he wanted any chance of salvation, forgiveness. He had to stay human-

A quiet pained noise escaped him as another bolt of pain raced down his spine when his tail emerged, long and whip sharp, curling up against his side in his agony.

Holding back the change felt like holding back a tidal wave, it burned and it ached all the way down to the marrow of his bones where hellfire burned and sparked. The only way to be free of the pain would be to let go, to give in to the fire and what it wanted of him. And he… he was so so tired.

Get up.

Slowly, Matt pushed himself up from the floor and onto his knees, head heavy with the weight of his horns, everything aching so painfully it hurt even to breathe. 

You think you can do anything good like this? Get up!

He shook his head, reaching a hand out until he found the wall near where he’d fallen, a place to rest, just out of view, until he could get back under control. Something wet dripped onto his hand, and when he reached up, his mouth and chin felt slick with blood, probably the worst nosebleed in months. Shit… Shit okay he just, just needed to rest.

You have to fight it!

Careful not to knock anything over, wings pressed close to his back, Matt crawled over to the wall and sat there, resting his head back and letting everything go limp. He could explain whatever blood there was on a nosebleed, surely, but the clothes… Foggy, probably had something spare stashed in here… It, it had been an accident, or something, right?

God what would Foggy think when he saw? He hated demons already, to think that Matt had been lying to him this whole time about his curse… No, no he’d just, wait it out, like always. He had to control it, like always.

He had to… Focus kid!

Matt’s eyes fluttered shut, too tired to stay open.

Chapter Text

Six months after his dad died, the change began.

Matty had almost gotten used to life at the orphanage, the nuns were pleasant even if the other kids could be cruel, stealing things from him because he wouldn’t notice and teasing him during mass. Everyone knew the story, what Battlin’ Jack Murdock had done, what it had cost him, even if no one spoke it out loud because it couldn’t be true, could it? Making a deal with the Devil? In this day and age? In this neighborhood?

Yeah, sure, whatever.

Most days Matty spent time on his own, listening to the world around him, reading the books they’d given him at school over and over and over again, wondering if his dad would still be there if he hadn’t… If he…

His head started hurting just after sundown, more than just a little headache, more than the pain pills and water the nuns gave him could help with. It hurt so bad he couldn’t get to sleep that night, laying awake, listening to the orphanage while the pain throbbed in time with his heartbeat. Or, maybe he did sleep, it got hard to tell, though the pain had lessened by the time the morning bells rang.

Feeling the warm sun through the windows on his back, Matty got dressed that day, and waited patiently on his bed for a nun to fetch him for breakfast, like usual. He even smiled in the direction of the door when he heard it open.

But the way the woman had shrieked in terror haunted him to this day.

What followed had gotten fuzzy over the years, probably for the better. He remembered fragments of it, all a big blur of sounds and sensations in pitch darkness.

Being dragged into the basement of the orphanage under a blanket to keep from scaring the other children had been terrifying, he still hadn’t known then what was going on. They kept him down there, in the cold, all day, thinking he couldn’t hear the way they whispered beyond the door in a panic. Matty had crept up to the door to get a better listen, climbing the stairs very carefully without his cane to guide him. He caught a few words, but the one that struck real fear into him was the word: Horns.

They’d been small then, maybe an inch long, still smooth and new, the skin at the base raw and irritated, but they’d been there.

Over the next few days, as they kept him hidden down there from the world, they lied to him, told him a doctor was coming to fix everything and that he’d be okay. Clearly God had meant for this to be a test, a test of all of their strength, their faith and their resolve. Maybe it was the hours of prayer that made everything blur together, or maybe it’s what came after when the ‘doctor’ arrived.

Matty didn’t want to think about that, it’d hurt so badly then, it made things worse.

The ‘doctor’ was really some powerful, experienced priest; the nuns had called him a master Exorcist, with blessings from the Vatican and everything. Surely he, of all people, would be able to purge the demon from this innocent blind child. And, well, maybe he could’ve, if this had been a possession. 

At first, his words had just sounded like prayer while he walked in circles around Matty, who sat on the cold concrete floor. But then, something changed, the exorcist’s voice started to feel like needles in his ears and he had to cover them against the stinging, against the discomfort. The words pulled on something inside Matty, dug into his soul and pulled a deep seated fire closer and closer to the surface until it began to burn at his skin and his bones. 

He cried when the bones in his back began to shift, he begged them to stop and they raised their voices even louder, calling for the demon possessing him to begone. To them, watching the wings tear out of his back, bloody and painful, half formed and trembling, was a sign they were doing something right. To them, watching him cry and scream in pain meant they were correct and that he would be saved through suffering.

Even when he began to pray himself, begging God to stop them, please he wasn’t a monster he didn’t know what was going on please please please make them stop-

Then nothing.

Later, his mentor would say he blacked out, that it took over to try and save them both, clawing at the edges of the salt ring barrier and snarling and cursing, a demon, a real honest to god demon in a child’s skin. The story had made the boy laugh when he heard about how the nuns and the exorcist ran out screaming, despite how miserable he had been, because at the time, the stranger telling him had almost been kind.

Well… he had been kind, when they brought him in to “deal with” the demon in the basement. The steps had squeaked when he came into the basement, covered with scorches and smelling like rotten eggs.

“Jesus… look at what they did to you.” 

Matty, or rather, the thing Matty became, stirred from where it had curled up in the furthest part of the protective circle, wings shifting and tail flicking as it seemed to wake up. It lifted its head tilted with one pointed ear upwards to hear as much as possible, sniffing softly. It heard a soft chuckle, “You must be a tough little shit, holding out this long.”

The little demon slowly got up, focused on the newcomer outside its prison, who sat on the ground with legs crossed, waiting for it. In fact, he pulled something from a bag that smelled like old leather, unwrapping it to release a savory smell. The demon couldn’t help how it ran towards the scent, slamming face first into the barrier again and staggering back with a whimper, holding its face in pain.

“Huh… You got a name?” the stranger asked, a frown in his voice.

It only managed to hiss back at him, curling up again. Maybe… it didn’t know how to talk, or it didn’t want to? Odd… Possessions this intense were often very powerful demons. This thing seemed… young, frightened, childish even.

The stranger hummed, and while the demon’s back was turned, he carefully placed the good smelling thing within the protective circle’s barrier. Hesitant, the demon turned to look towards it, sniffing, and hesitant it picked up the thing and discovered it was a sandwich, food.

 It earned a laugh from the stranger as the little demon dove for the food, tearing it apart and stuffing its face, clearly half starved from being imprisoned down here. Slowly, with a full stomach, without pain, Matty found himself able to focus again, even if at first he could only focus on taking the next bite until he’d eaten all of it. Still, he wondered who this stranger was that didn’t seem scared of him, didn’t even seem to flinch when he’d… lashed out. The memories of the torture quickly slipped out of his reach, and now he was just a little boy again, sitting there staring in the direction of the person who’d helped him.

“Bet that feels better, doesn’t it?” the stranger asked, voice old and worn, with a rasp to it. 

Matty nodded, shifting to sit properly instead of squatting like a goblin like he had been. Everything hurt with a deep soreness, especially his wings, but it had just been that way since they’d locked him down here. “Who… who are you? What are you going to do to me?”

“Ah! So you can talk. Here I was thinking you were blind and stupid.” Matty didn’t need his eyes to hear the smug smirk in the old man’s voice, especially as he bristled in anger. “Stand down kid, even if you wanted to punch me for that, you’re not going anywhere till I say so.”

“You’re just going to hurt me again, aren’t you? Like they did.” The boy’s voice caught as he spoke, terrified, hurting, but trying so so hard to be strong.

The old man’s smile fell. “No. I’m here to train you. Teach you how to get your curse under control, teach you how to use what you have.”

Without warning, he drew a small ball from his bag and tossed it to Matty. The sound of rubber leaving his palm, the scent of plastic and the rush of air- without thinking Matty reached out and snatched it out of the air. He took the ball with both his hands, holding it to his chest, brow furrowed in a frown, “How… how did I…?”

“You’re getting stronger, kid,” the old man said, resting his elbows on his crossed knees. “You’re cursed, something put a demon in there with you and those idiots upstairs tried to pull it out.”

“So, I am possessed?” 

“No. You are a demon, no clue how that happened but it’s what you are. Those morons tried to exorcize you, but since there wasn’t anything to purge, they just pulled all that hellfire up to the surface.” The old man tilted his head, “Or did you really think any poor sucker who got possessed got horns?”

Matty swallowed hard, “I didn’t, I didn’t know. Any of it…”

“That’s why I’m here. You’re going to have to stay in the basement until you can get your hellfire to simmer down, but I’m getting you out of here as soon as you can leave.” Matty heard him smiling as he stood, scuffing a boot through the protective circle, “There’s a lot you have to learn, kid.”

Slowly, Matty stood with him, trying to stand tall despite being more than a little scared, despite how his tail curled between his legs like a terrified dog. “And… what am I supposed to call you? Are you a priest or something?”

The old man stayed quiet, picking up his bag and moving it over to a tabletop in the corner. Matty frowned as he heard the familiar tap-tap of a cane in the man’s hands. Was he…

“Stick. You’ll call me Stick.”

That had been… what, almost eleven years ago? 

The old bastard's words still rung in Matt’s mind, especially at times like this, when he woke up in pain, everything aching so badly. His throat felt dry and his face felt sticky from the nosebleed, something he could only vainly wipe at with his sleeves to try and alleviate some of the discomfort.

He could… hear something.

A voice, so soft you probably couldn’t hear it unless you were right next to them, from the other side of the wall. That, that was Karen’s room, wasn’t it? It sounded like she was sitting right over there, and it took a moment for Matt to start to pick out the words she was whispering. They sound almost like… a prayer.

It sounded… nice actually, grounding. Matt let his eyes fall closed, focusing on the sound, on her words. “Forgive me, father, who arte in heaven… do not punish those close to me for my own sins.”

He couldn’t help wondering where she learned this prayer, and despite how his voice rasped, he joined her. “Protect them from the wrong I’ve done, keep them safe from the evil I bring upon them.”

She probably couldn’t hear him, as hoarse as he sounded, so she didn’t stop when he spoke up. “My sins are my own fault and I am to be punished for them in time… only I am at fault.”

What weighed on her so heavily? What made her feel such guilt?

“Please, just keep them safe,” Matt mumbled, folding his arms over his chest, a sudden chill coming over him. “I am your servant, the work I do is just, please help me prove myself, tell me how to… to…”

“Be human.” Karen’s voice grew so quiet he almost couldn’t hear her, and he wasn’t even sure he heard her right. Ah well, she was probably speaking of intense guilt, a deep wound that made her feel inhuman and unworthy. No way she was anything but human, right? Surely he’d have noticed…

To be human, to be good and kind… Isn’t that what everyone strove to be? That had to be it, it had to be.

“Amen,” he heard her mumble.

“Amen,” Matt echoed, finally feeling the hellfire under his skin begin to cool.

Even as he dragged himself into a proper sitting position, crossing his legs and steadying his breathing, he still felt the flames tingling inside him, not quenched, but burning low now. With each steady heartbeat now, as his strength came back in bits and pieces, Matt slowly was able to shape himself back into human form. He felt his wings melt away again, and tried not to feel guilty about having lost control so easily. 

He had to stay human, or everything would fall to pieces.

Someone would come for him, and now it might even be Foggy, because he didn’t belong in this world. Demons didn’t belong on earth, they brought doom and reckoning everywhere they went.

That meant peeling himself out of his sweat-soaked and shredded clothes, using the scraps to try and wipe the blood from his face before wrapping them up into a bundle and shoving them into his bag. Digging into the guest room drawers, he found an abandoned jacket, too big to be Karen’s and smelling so familiar, which he slipped on and zipped all the way up. Now he just had to clean up the blood on the rug from his nosebleed, easily enough.

Only as he tried to sneak out into the hall, Matt almost literally ran into Karen, making her startle back in surprise and fumble with the bottles she carried, the sound of hollow plastic clacking against itself. He caught the smell of bleach, fabric cleaner, and the vague scent of pine.

He offered her an awkward smile, “Sorry, sorry. I uh, didn’t see you there.”

“Very funny,” she mumbled with a sharp exhale, a frown in her voice. “I um…”

“Is that, bleach?”

“Yeah yeah I just, um, was cleaning something, a spill, it’s no big deal,” she said, trying to be dismissive, but her heart rate picking up just enough for Matt to know that wasn’t the whole truth.

Still, he wasn’t exactly being truthful either, was he? Matt rubbed his neck when he spoke up again, “Well, do, do you think you could help me do that too? Kind of passed out and had a really bad nosebleed. I don’t, know how much ended up on the rug and the floor but.”

“Oh! Oh yeah of course, it’s fine, Matt,” Karen quickly answered, audibly putting on a smile and pulling herself up a little straighter, less like she was cowering.

“Thank you, Karen,” he said with a soft sigh of relief, moving to one side so she could sidle past him into the guest room.

Though, below the smell of chemical cleaners, Matt thought he caught that smell again, sage. Trying not to be obvious, he turned his head to follow it, to follow Karen. Below the smells she’d picked up, the cleaners and the cab and the smell of the detergent she used on her clothes, there it was again, the soft smell of sage.

Sage, an herb, used in purifying rituals, rumored to be associated with… 

No, no no, that was ridiculous.

She’d probably just used it one of these days to clear the bad energy that came from exorcisms, completely reasonable. Hell Matt had even recommended it to Foggy for when the nightmares began, so it made perfect sense that the smell would be lingering.

Matt shook his head, put on a smile, and carefully walked over to help her clean up his mess.

Chapter Text

Karen hated herself.

She hated the way her bones felt like glass and the way everything felt one panic attack away from crumbling. She hated how she looked in the mirror, all thin and delicate and pretty to everyone else, like something to be idolized or sheltered, like something beautiful. As if she could ever be beautiful, she was corrupted and sick and bad.  

Most of all, she hated the little pock-mark scars under her eyes, ones just barely too small to see.

She hated how they got inflamed after she plucked, leaving her face speckled with red like acne and the sink basin full of little black fibers and every expression making the irritation flare up. She hated how they reminded her of her father, how once she’d sat on his knee as he plucked her face, how he’d held her too tight when she begged him to stop, blood and tears running down her cheeks from the pain.

Maybe he hadn’t really loved her. He certainly hadn’t been there when everything began to implode, when the church turned on her and called her wicked, when she’d packed her bags and run away, barely old enough to make it on her own. Every time he’d had to choose who he loved, he’d chosen God.

Karen came second.

Every. Single. Time.

When she showed weakness and impurity because she was a teenage girl who had a crush, when she didn’t pray enough or correctly, when she wasn’t pure enough or righteous enough…

She slammed the bathroom mirror shut with enough force to make the mirror tremble in its metal frame. Fuck that place. Fuck that entire town fuck every one of those self-righteous motherfuckers. 

Running the sink and using a hand broom, she was able to clean up everything she’d had to pluck out and send it swirling down the drain. Foggy wouldn’t notice, it’d be gone by the time he woke up, and Matt hadn’t seen it. She felt guilty being grateful he was blind, because he hadn’t seen how wrong she was, how disgusting and corrupt and-

Outside, in the kitchen, something clattered and she sighed. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to tell the blind guy to start putting the bottles away, but she’d had to get that shit off her face before she clawed it out and skinned herself. Karen drew herself up straighter with a deep inhale, exhaling slowly until the shaking and aching finally dulled to something more manageable.

She walked slowly out into the kitchen, just in time to see Matt very carefully righting one of the bottles he’d knocked over, a guiding hand on the countertop. “Everything okay Matt?”

“Huh?” he glanced up and offered that half smile again, sunglasses glinting. “Yeah, yeah just, hit it with my elbow.”

Karen couldn’t help her little smile as she joined him, picking up the supplies and tucking them safely back under the counter inside the cabinets. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Matt cock his head to one side. “So, are you, are you alright? I realize, Foggy and I were kind of overwhelming earlier.”

“Yeah, yeah I’m alright now,” she answered with a hum, pulling the cabinet closed again and standing, idly brushing off her dress. It hadn’t been that overwhelming, but the sulfur stink had set Karen’s instincts into overdrive and she’d almost been sick in the back of the taxi, but of course she wasn’t about to tell either of them that, they didn’t need to know. The more they knew, the more likely it was they’d figure her out and then she’d be completely and totally fucked. 

When she reached for the paper towels, she paused, glancing at Matt again. “Um, I think, you missed a spot, from your nosebleed?”

He frowned, reaching up to swipe and missing the smear by a mile. “Shit… I thought I got all of it.”

“Here, here let me-” she took a scrap of paper towel and reached up, careful not to startle him, and gently wiped his cheek clean. “There, problem solved.”

Matt sighed softly, “Thanks, Karen.”

“It’s, yeah, you’re welcome.”

They fell into silence as she finished putting a few things away, trying not to be too obvious about how… nervous he made her. Really it was stupid, just because he was knowledgeable of the occult didn’t mean he’d literally sniff her out, given how he absolutely wouldn’t be able to see what was wrong with her. It’s fine! It’s all totally fine.

“What time is it?” Matt asked, and Karen had to keep herself from jumping.

“Um… about five,” she answered, glancing at the clock. “You both kind of, passed out all afternoon.” She had too but again, they didn’t need to know that.

“Ah. Do you, would you mind if I stayed the night again? I’d, like to make sure Foggy is okay,” he continued, leaning back against the counter, mostly facing towards her.

Karen fought the urge to grit her teeth, tried to relax the tension out of her hands and not let her anxiety be too obvious. This was ridiculous and irrational, how long had he roomed with Foggy? And he’d already spent the night here! If he was going to hurt her, or do anything suspicious really, wouldn’t he have done it already?

So she turned and gave a smile he couldn’t see, “No not at all. Foggy won’t either, since it means he won’t have to worry about you.”

“How flattering,” he chuckled softly, one hand tapping on the counter where it rested.

Turning away, Karen moved to kneel and pull out a pan when her knee threatened to give and she let out a hiss of pain, holding hard onto the cabinet door. No no no not now- she’d taken something for the pain already!

“Karen? Are you okay?” she heard Matt ask as she grit her teeth and pulled out the goddamn brownie pan, almost slamming it onto the counter as she stood.

It took her a moment to respond, shifting her weight to favor the leg that wasn’t trying to murder her. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Just, just a flare up. I’m fine I just-”

She almost jumped out of her skin as he appeared at her side, taking her arm and placing a steadying hand on her back. “You shouldn’t be doing anything if you’re hurting like this. Come on, you should sit down.”

Fighting internal panic, Karen could only nod and hum in agreement, letting Matt help her over to one of the bar stools where she could sit. She needed sleep, or something, ever since coming home she’d been on edge and irrational, as if simply by touching her Matt would suddenly, spontaneously figure her out. 

People even more blind than him had seen it in her.

They’d said her voice was soothing, that being around her felt like being in a chapel. They’d said she had the potential to be a saint, to be something revered and divine. They said she was beautiful. They said she was heavenly.

They’d been lying, of course. 

The moment she could, she’d dropped their holier than thou bullshit, threw away all the necklaces and candles and crosses, and kept her mouth shut. If anyone heard her praying, that was their problem, because for all intents and purposes she was an atheist. Or, maybe agnostic was the right word? Did it fucking matter?

Could she ever be as good as they thought she was?

Again she jumped when Matt touched her shoulder. “Karen… if you’re sore, I could help with, whatever you’d been planning to do.”

She forced herself to sigh, to sit up a little straighter. “I’m, I’m used to it, really I’ll be okay in a minute. But… I’d appreciate the help.”

Careful, always keeping one hand on the edge of the counter, Matt moved to stand opposite her and gave a smile. “What do you need?”

Directing Matt around the kitchen felt a bit like a game, and it actually got Karen to laugh a bit, especially as he leaned into it despite clearly being more capable than he was pretending at the moment. With his help, they gathered the ingredients and even the recipe card from where it was taped on the fridge. (Cut off the back of a brownie mix box but it hadn’t failed them yet)

Again Matt leaned on the counter across from her, head tilted as he listened to her work. “What are you making, exactly? Smells like… chocolate.”

“Brownies,” Karen answered, finding herself smiling. Carefully she cracked an egg on the edge of the bowl, focusing to make sure none of it spilled onto the counter. “It’s always a good way to cheer Foggy up, I’ve found. Of course, you can have some too, after a day like today.”

“Yeah, he always did have a sweet tooth,” Matt hummed, a soft grin tugging at his mouth. “He did well in there, today. I doubt I could’ve done it alone without getting at least one bone broken.”

“I’m, glad to hear that. I really was hoping Foggy was doing well at the job, it’s…” She searched for the word as she picked up the rubber spatula. “It’s good, he has his spirit back.”

“His determination serves him well. And…” Matt tilted his head a little further, “I think he has something really good worth fighting for.”

Karen paused, feeling her cheeks get hot at the implication. Sure she knew Foggy thought of her as a dear friend after everything, especially now after she’d saved his ass, but to hear someone else saying it too… Some angry little thing from her past snapped its teeth at her, hissing about lies and unworthiness. Karen bit down hard on it and allowed herself to feel good for once. “Yeah, yeah he’s always had a big heart, especially for people he cares about.” 

She mixed at the batter, watching the dry mix and the liquids blend into that deep chocolate batter. “I uh, I’d say I’m glad we met but, heh well, that implies I’m glad in some way Foggy got possessed.”

“Well… You could say you’re glad I’m the one who helped?” Matt chuckled and shook his head, “No no, that probably makes me sound self centered.”

Karen giggled, covering her mouth with one hand. “How about, I’m glad we’re friends now too?”

“That works. I, I’m glad too, Karen.”

Despite the shitshow that the morning had been, and despite the fact that Foggy woke up grumpy, fresh brownies and delivery pizza somehow managed to make the rest of the evening not so miserable. Karen got the impression that Matt hadn’t gotten to enjoy the delights of junk food in a while, just by the way he smiled to himself every so often while they were eating.

Only then, over dinner, did Karen get the gritty details of what happened that morning. It scared her, to think that demons could do such terrible things, and it scared her even more to think that she might be capable of something just like it. She listened intently though, mentally making notes in case she had to help, or in case she had to… stop herself.

Hopefully it never came to that.

The dishes got abandoned when they finished, all three collapsing on the couch (a tight fit) while Foggy searched for a movie with descriptions so they could all enjoy it. Before he even started the film, Matt’s head nodded forward and he slumped over onto Foggy’s shoulder, out cold from fatigue. Karen just smiled knowingly, making Foggy roll his eyes, even as he put a protective arm around his exhausted friend.

Karen rolled her eyes as she reached over to the side, pulling out the half finished embroidery she had been working on from the little drawer in the side table. 

She only kept one thing from her childhood, and that had been the embroidery. Something about the process, about pulling the thread over and over, watching the image come together as each color wove onto the fabric, despite the ache in her fingers some days, it always calmed her. So while Foggy watched whatever terrible B movie he’d picked out, while Matt slept hard from pain they didn’t even know he felt, Karen leaned on Foggy’s other shoulder, and sewed. 

Of course, if he thought anything odd about his friends, he didn’t say anything.

Even if Matt felt like a human heater and Karen felt cold to the touch, he didn’t need to bring it up. They were his friends, and it didn’t matter if they had weird body heat if they were comfortable, safe, and happy.

Karen saw him smile a little, and that made her happy too, even if she didn’t know why.

Chapter Text

Something felt wrong.

Karen couldn’t place it, but something was wrong.

She could feel it in her bones and it rang in her ears and dug into her lungs and forced her to wake up. Today had been supposed to be her day off, Foggy having left already to meet up with Matt across town, but here she was, awake minutes after the front door locked and unable to shake the anxiety clawing in her chest.

The chapel. 

How did she…

Her chapel. 

No, no not hers, never hers, she’d only gone a few times-

Something had gotten inside, something bad.

Before she could even consider what she had to do, Karen climbed out of bed and rushed to get dressed, throwing something over her pajamas to just get out of the house and go. Her joints ached and protested with every movement but it didn’t matter.

Something was wrong.

She… she needed to deal with it. It needed to be dealt with. She needed to get it dealt with.

That place was sacred, holy, she had to protect it.

Her shoes felt too tight as she ran- why was she running!? -the three blocks to the chapel, towards the deep feeling of fear in her stomach. Up the steps, and she stopped short, staring up at the doors, one of them half ajar and closing slowly, like someone had thrown it open. Karen swallowed hard, lungs burning from the sprint, fighting against the instincts that had her by the throat, pulling her inside.

Hesitant, she pushed the door open again, slipping inside, eyes searching in the morning-bright church to find the thing that had called her here.

Eventually her gaze landed on a figure kneeling below the large cross that hung above the altar. Barely she could hear the figure’s voice, whispering and muttering prayer with terrified fervor, hands clasped together over a rosary in front of her mouth. Was that one of the nuns? From the convent downtown? Karen had seen her here before, but, mass wasn’t being held today, why was she here?

Slowly, trying to keep her steps silent, Karen crept towards the nun, head tilted to one side.

As she got closer, the nun gasped in pain, curling up on herself on the ground, holding her chest and trembling in agony. From the shadows came a deep inhuman growling, the kind that made the hair on Karen’s neck prickle and her heart race in fear. It also called to something deeper inside her, something she’d tried to smother time and time again, something powerful.

Something that had claimed this church when she hadn’t been looking.

Something that wanted the thing in these shadows dead.

Karen slipped out of her shoes, kicking them to one side as she kept moving forward, hands and shoulders tensing as the dull ache in her joints spread, posture defensive. Nails sharpened into claws as the skin of her hands turned dark and rough, monstrous, wicked and terrible.

The nun let out a short shriek as something seemed to grab her ribcage and drag her upwards, her limbs twitching and flopping like a puppet in the hands of a toddler. The growling changed, becoming a low, inhuman laugh that swirled around both of them, the smell of sulfur filling the air.

Karen bared her teeth, sharper now in her anger, a change she couldn’t fight down. “You need to leave this place. Right. Now.” 

The nun’s head cracked back at a painful angle, like her neck had snapped, and she smiled. “Oooh how cute! Don’t you just look absolutely darling.”

Karen couldn’t help bristling, feeling the prickling on her arms and cheeks as her feathers fluffed up in anger. She stopped her advance, balling her hands into fists and feeling her claws dig into her palms. “You don’t get to call me that you piece of shit.”

“Why? Because that sweet old lady back home used to call you that?” The nun spasmed, her body contorting in the air as she rolled, still facing Karen with that unwavering smile. Blood began to dribble from her nose and her mouth, whatever this demon was, it wasn’t afraid to mutilate its host. God that poor woman must be in so much pain! 

“You don’t know shit about me, don’t fucking pretend you do,” Karen snarled, drawing back her shoulders, fighting down a shudder as something on her back shifted, raising and blocking the light of the windows.

The demon giggled, the bones in its host snapping as it lifted her up off the ground entirely. “Tell me little hatchling, have you ever really felt pain? Have you ever felt hellfire and damnation? Or are you too busy hating yourself to realize how fucking spoiled you are?”

“Shut up! Shut the fuck up! You don’t belong here and I’m not afraid of you!” she barked, squaring her stance. And then, in her anger, she lied. “I’ve seen hellfire, I’ve seen damnation, I’ve seen it in the eyes of your kind before I ripped his fucking head off!”

“Oh well in that case-” the demon threw out its arms, making a hot wind kick up in the chapel, making the candles flare in violent flame as its hands ignited, “-why don’t we BURN together!?”

Once, someone Karen thought she respected had told her that wrath was a sin, that to be truly divine, one had to let go of silly mortal angers.

But right now? Watching this poor woman’s body be used like a chew toy? Watching fire threaten the chapel that she’d found sanctuary in?

She was fucking pissed.

With a screech that was half rage and half terror, she lunged forward and launched herself at the flaming demon, taking it down hard to the floor. Talons and claws left gouges and tears in the nun’s clothing, feathers flared and caught the wind- Karen wasn’t human anymore.

But then again, maybe she never had been.

The altar fell over sideways as they crashed into it, the hellfire flames leaving ugly black scorch marks where they brushed, not quite able to catch. The demon hissed and snarled, thrashing as Karen grabbed it by the throat, pinning it to the ground, claws digging into the nun’s torn habit. 

And then it froze, dark eyes going wide in terror as tall black wings rose over them both. 

Because that damn exorcist might’ve had hellfire on his tongue.

But this thing?

This thing was holy.

It screamed in terror as the sunlight seemed to focus on where they had crashed, a will far more powerful than any mortal forcing it out of the woman’s body, forcing it into the light and forcing it to burn until a gust of wind carried the ashes away.

Weak, the nun coughed, groaning in agony as every broken bone in her body lost the hellish power holding her together. The creature drew her hands back, staring in confusion at the injured woman. Poor girl, burned and so badly broken, but… she could still be saved. 

With a far more gentle touch, the creature moved to kneel beside the nun, wings lifted protectively over the two of them as it placed hands on her chest, focusing hard. Hands that, clawed and sharp and dangerous, glowed with a gentle warmth and the nun’s breathing grew easy, her bones slowly shifting back into place and healing, her burns softening from blackened flesh to red irritation.

She, she was going to be okay.

She did it!

She’d actually saved someone!

But celebration would have to wait, as she heard a door slam open.

Turning sharply, she saw the figures entering the chapel and began to panic. No no they shouldn’t be back yet, she couldn’t let them see her like this! They couldn’t, they couldn’t know she was a monster!

But with the door blocked, the only way out was up, and thankfully there was a very large window. With one powerful sweep of her wings, she took off, up and out, shattering through the stained glass and leaving her face and arms littered with glass cuts as she frantically climbed into the sky, running anywhere but here.

For just a moment the chapel was quiet.

Then, of course, Foggy had to point out the obvious. “What the hell was that thing!?” 

“Foggy did it have wings?” Matt demanded, grabbing his friend by the sleeve, eyes blindly searching the room for something more to grab onto.

“Y-Yeah, like big black raven wings,” he answered, shaking his head. “Holy shit…”

He startled again when Matt took off running, nearly body slamming himself into the first of the pews as he ran towards the front where- oh my god is that a body!? Foggy shook off his disbelief and ran after him, both of them dropping to their knees beside the unconscious nun. Despite her burned and torn clothes she looked alright, her breathing steady and pulse strong when Foggy took her pulse in her wrist.

“Check her eyes,” Matt insisted, bracing a hand on one of the pews, frowning as he found the scorch mark in the wood. 

Foggy shifted and reached out to gently lift one of the unconscious woman’s eyelids. “Whoah… her pupils are completely blown out. Think it was drugs?”

“No, no it’s not drugs,” Matt said, shaking his head. “I think this woman was possessed, you can still smell the sulfur but only barely. Because there’s something else burying it, something…”

“It, smells like sage.” Foggy shook his head and gestured with both hands, “And! And I only know that because Karen uses only stuff that smells like Sage and I don’t know why. At least, it smells nice? I guess? But what does that have to do with the nun being possessed?”

Together they took the nun under her arms and shifted her to lay on one of the pew benches, a little more comfortable than the glass covered floor. “Foggy I, don’t think that thing was a demon.”

Now sure Matt was blind but he couldn’t be that blind right? The thing looked like a nightmare-harpy! Big clawed hands and bird feet, feathers on its face like a mask and even more in its hair like a crown… How could it be human? “Okay well, if it was a demon, what else could it have been? Matt it had giant bird feet!”

Matt glanced towards the unconscious nun and he folded his arms, frowning deeply. “I think… it was an angel. And… they saved our friend here.”

Foggy blinked.

He blinked again.

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah, yeah holy is right,” Matt said with a nervous chuckle, shaking his head. 

“But, wait, hang on.” Foggy turned and tilted his head up, peering with a frown towards the broken stained glass window where the demon- no, the angel- had thrown itself through in their escape. Sure enough, he could see black feathers caught in the broken glass on the frame. “If it was an angel, why did it have black feathers? Aren’t angels supposed to be like, white and gold, purity and riches and stuff.”

The look Matt gave him would’ve cut glass with how sharp it was. “Foggy… how many colors can human beings be?”

He refused to answer.

“Foggy.”

“Okay okay fine, dumb question.” He waved a dismissive hand as if trying to clear the air of his stupidity. “But, if it was an angel, and it looked really friggin cool for an angel, why did it run?”

Careful, Matt stepped out of the pew, turning his face towards the sun shining into the chapel. “Well, you thought they were a demon, didn’t you?” 

Ah, right he had, stupid stupid! Foggy stuck his hands deep in his pockets, “See this is why you’re usually in charge of our cases.”

“Poor thing was only trying to help,” Matt continued, holding his hands around the top of his cane in that tense, thoughtful way that said he had a lot on his mind. “They were probably worried we’d be scared, so they… fled.”

The glass crunched under his feet as he walked forward, cane sweeping over the shards and little burned places before he came to a stop at the fallen altar. Foggy watched as he knelt, searching for something, and he couldn’t help the new worry knotting in his chest. “Well… I mean, I hope it’s okay, wherever it’s gone.”

He saw Matt stand, looking all dramatic in the light and broken glass below the hanging cross, and heard him sigh. “I hope so too. Wherever they are.”

Chapter Text

With a city as large as New York, in a neighborhood as poor as Hell’s Kitchen, there were always abandoned places to hide in. Despite wanting to be anywhere but the city, Karen couldn’t bring herself to fly too far, terrified of someone seeing her and following her to… to…

No, no they wouldn’t find her here.

The broken windows were easy to slip through, despite her size, and she ducked into a shadowy corner to curl up and hide behind her wings. Tears pricked in her eyes and her throat felt tight, hoarse from all that screaming and thick with fear and anxiety.

She couldn’t go back, not now, her life here was over and she would have to leave. Karen Page would be no more soon, everything she’d built would be for nothing. Her friends, her room, her job, all of it would crumble now that they knew.

But, but maybe Foggy didn’t see it was her, maybe he didn’t realize. She, she needed to call him, see how much he knew. Did she even look like herself, like this? Covered in dark feathers like some kind monster, massive wings and inhuman claws…

Maybe she could fake it, drop herself in a dumpster once she could turn human again, wait for some police officer to find her, have them take her home and say she got mugged! Yeah that’s why her clothes were completely shredded and covered with blood. Could it work? Did she even trust a cop enough for that kind of thing? What if she actually got mugged on the way? She didn’t even have shoes!

And Foggy, oh he would be so worried, but, maybe she’d get to go home, maybe she could pretend this hadn’t happened.

Pretend she wasn’t an unholy abomination with a body barely holding itself together. Tomorrow, if she made it to tomorrow, she wouldn’t be able to walk, but she’d be grateful if that meant being stuck at home in her wheelchair with her friend. She, she had to try, to keep her life, to keep her friends, to stay.

She had to hope they didn’t put the pieces together.

In that abandoned building, Karen stayed in the dark corner, holding herself, for hours. She tried breathing, she tried praying, she tried every stupid little trick she’d ever come up with to make the change go away but she couldn’t get it under control. Not enough, anyway, but she hadn’t been this far gone in years.

She couldn’t go home until she was normal again, until she was human again.

Her wings painfully folded up after the second hour mark, and her hands became soft and pale once more after the third, but she couldn’t get her ugly harpy feet and feathery face to go back to normal. 

As much as the idea made her almost sick with worry, she really really needed to call Foggy, tell him something, get help, just anything more than sitting here in the cold. But when she checked her pockets, Karen’s heart sunk even further, not finding her phone in any of them. 

She’d completely forgotten to grab it when she sprinted out of the house. 

Fuck. Just, fuck.

She’s so fucked. 

Karen dropped her head into her hands, and screamed quietly.

It helped a little bit.

Even if her phone was still sitting on the charger back home, where Foggy found it when they returned to an empty house.

“Are you sure she just left it?” Matt frowned, hearing the click as Foggy pulled the plug out. 

“It’s just, sitting where she leaves it to charge!” He could hear Foggy’s hair shifting as he shook his head, “It looks like she just up and left.”

“Where would she go without it?” Matt couldn’t help tilting his head, listening hard to how their voices filled the space. Nothing seemed to indicate there had been a struggle, no unfamiliar smells, nothing knocked over, it’s like she’d just vanished.

“I don't know? Maybe something came up and she didn’t have a lot of time?” Foggy’s voice had hints of panic starting to creep in as he tapped Karen’s phone against his open palm in thought.

“Did someone from the church tell her what happened?” He carefully moved to stand by Foggy, putting a hand on his shoulder, trying to be a steadying presence.

Karen’s phone beeped as it turned on, and Foggy groaned. “No, nothing, no recent texts or anything.”

“Why would she leave? I thought you said she was taking a sick day?” 

“I, don’t know. She was here when I left this morning. Matt, what if she’s in trouble? What if someone broke in while we were gone and-” Poor guy’s heart was racing, nosediving right into a panic attack when mixed with the excitement and anxiety of the morning.

“Foggy.” He put his arm all the way around his friend’s shoulders. “You’ve got to calm down, okay? She’s going to come back, she probably just… went for a walk or something, right?”

Foggy nodded, swallowing hard, and nervously putting Karen’s phone back on her bedside table among her other trinkets. “Yeah, yeah I hope you’re right. I really, really hope you’re right.”

But the hours crept by, the sun crawled across the sky, sirens whistled through the city here and there, and the day began to end. Still no sign of Karen.

Mostly because she’d exhausted herself trying to turn back and ended up sleeping most of the afternoon away in that abandoned building. Very responsible, but at least when she woke up, most of her had returned to normal. She only look slightly tarred and feathered now, but that at least she could excuse away. She just, she needed to go home, hide in her room, pretend she’d visited an emergency clinic or something. 

She searched the empty building, finding a discarded old curtain to wrap herself in and hide her shredded clothing. Walking barefoot through New York city was a terrible idea, but she couldn’t fly back, not in this state, not when she might not be able to change back from another shift without her joints disintegrating. Already she could feel them starting to ache like a bitch, but she could make it home.

As Karen started the miserable walk home, she plucked at the feathers left on her cheeks, leaving little bloody spots like acne. Between the grime covering her face from the abandoned building, the little scabs, and the ratty curtain, pretty much everyone she passed ignored her, thinking she had to be homeless or something. 

God what was she supposed to say when she got home? She’d gotten mugged? She’d gotten attacked? That could work, maybe say she’d gotten a call from work she couldn’t ignore, got badly mugged on the way home… She, she could even say some big black thing flew overhead and scared them off.

She could use her own nightmarish transformation as part of the excuse, maybe they wouldn’t suspect it.

Didn’t make her feel any less terrified walking up the sidewalk to the house. Her heart felt ready to beat out of her chest as she knocked on the door, listening to the sound of footsteps as the door opened.

Foggy gasped, both in horror and relief, eyes going wide. “Karen!”

She tried to smile, it didn’t really work. “Hey…”

And before she could protest, he’d pulled her up the steps into a tight hug, despite the questionable smelling curtain she had wrapped around herself. “You’re okay!”

“I…” The lie caught in her throat at first. “I had to deal with something… got… got mugged on the way back… something, something big, black, i-in the sky, it scared them off. I, I only woke up an hour ago.”

“Karen oh my god-” Foggy pulled back, taking her shoulders. “We need to get you to a hospital like right now-”

“No! No hospital!” she almost frantically protested. “I, I’m fine, seriously. Just a few bruises, I swear.” Bruises from her crash exit and even worse landing, oh and cuts from the glass shards, but Foggy didn’t need to know that.

Clearly he felt conflicted about her refusal to see a doctor, but he sighed, putting an arm around her again. “Okay, okay fine. But you have to come inside and let me take care of it instead then, please?”

Karen just nodded, allowing him to lead her inside and to the downstairs bathroom. How funny, she thought, as he sat her down and took away the ratty curtain, that not so long ago she’d been taking care of him in here.

“Are you, hurting? Did, did they take anything?” He asked her, hesitantly checking a cut on her forehead.

“Not much,” she lied easily. “Just, lost my nice shoes.”

“Oh, shit sorry, I know you liked those.” The sink creaked as he turned on the water, wetting a cloth to try and clean his friend up a bit. 

Karen tried to smile, “It’s not that big of a deal, I’ve got other comfy sneakers.”

“Yeah, yeah you’re right. Just, hold still, let’s get you cleaned up.”

He didn’t mention the angel the whole time he treated Karen’s wounds, cleaning and covering all the little glass cuts, helping wrap her soon to be aching joints, trying all the while to cheer her up. So much so that he didn’t notice at all when Matt crept up to the doorway to listen, standing just out of view. Frankly he was glad Karen had made it home safely, even if in dire need of a shower, having to search for a missing friend would’ve been just awful.

And yet, something seemed off, something he couldn’t quiet place until his eavesdropping turned into full on spying and lurking.

The very faint smell of sage, not so faint like they’d brought it back with them from the church, but like something else. It seemed to lessen with time, but undoubtedly it was coming from in that bathroom, near Karen, a bit like an aura. Then again Foggy had mentioned she used sage shampoo, but this didn’t carry the chemical hint that soaps often did. Frowning, Matt focused, tuning his senses towards her, and he couldn’t help feeling something just plain odd.

What a coincidence she’d disappeared at the same time as the angel’s appearance. And then there was that strange prayer she’d said… Could she be… No, no she was certainly not a true angel, a creature so divine wouldn’t have been hurt by the glass shards, nor would it have been caught. 

Though… her chronic pain did suggest something close… Something many considered unholy, blasphemous, perhaps even wicked and unnatural. 

A nephilim, half angel and half human.

He stepped back when Karen rose to leave, wrapped in a fresh, clean towel instead of that ratty scavenged curtain, and Matt offered a smile in her direction when she came out. “Hey. Feeling better?”

“Yeah, yeah just, mourning the loss of my shoes,” Karen answered, a weak optimism in her voice, despite how it sounded like she was limping. 

Matt couldn’t help tilting his head a little. “I uh, I heard you mention you saw something fly overhead.”

Karen gestured vaguely with one hand, “Yeah this, big, black thing overhead. Scared the shit out of me and the guy who attacked me. Then, I fell, hit my head, blacked out.” 

She tried not to shy away from the way Matt was looking at her, even if he wasn’t really looking at her. Somehow, it felt like he just knew she had lied through her teeth. Foggy of course was too busy fussing to notice but Matt made her anxiety start to climb again. Does he know? He’s got to know, that look means he knows!

But how? How would he know? He couldn’t have seen her face…

But he was an exorcist, he knew unholy monsters like the back of his hand and what in all the worlds could be more unholy than the unnatural spawn of a human corrupting an angel?

“Did the creature seem hurt?” he asked, inadvertently drawing her out of her panic spiral. “Foggy and I saw it earlier, we’re… worried about it.”

Karen swallowed. “I uh, I didn’t see it very well, I’m sorry.”

Matt nodded his head side to side, making a small gesture with one hand. “See it, exorcized a demon then, flew out through a window. We’re just, hoping it’s okay.”

She couldn’t help squinting at him, a mix of confusion and suspicion, because it really did seem like he was dropping hints, but not obviously enough for her to know for certain. And if she was wrong… “Well, I uh, I hope you two find it.”

“Me too.” And he smiled at her, something soft, something she so so wished was meant to reassure her. Karen couldn’t manage to smile back, all her energy having gone away and slowly turning into an ache that’d leave her bedridden tomorrow for sure.

When Foggy finally joined them, she said her quiet good-nights and shuffled off to go hibernate until she stopped wanting to die. 

“We’ll save you some takeout!” Foggy called after her, trying to be comforting, only for his face to fall when she disappeared upstairs. “God I hope she’s okay.”

Matt didn’t answer at first, brow furrowed and mouth twisted into a frown. It felt so obvious that Karen was hiding something, either about herself or about what happened, and as much as he wanted to connect the dots and say she had been the angel, he didn’t quite have enough evidence for that aside from the smell and the coincidental timing. He’d leave that mystery be, for now. “If she really isn’t, I think she’ll tell us, in time.”

“Yeah, yeah me at least.” Foggy nudged him lightly, “No offense by that, I’ve known her longer.”

“None taken. Besides, I don’t do confession.”

That succeeded in getting Foggy to snort, shaking his head, and Matt allowed himself a little smile, tilting his head in the direction of the stairs. He hoped he was right, that Karen would tell them, when the time came.

He hoped she was okay.

Chapter Text

The angel with the black feathers appeared in papers the next day, most people calling it an unidentified flying entity, maybe a new vigilante or supervillain. Everyone had a different stupid name for it, Ravenhead, Crowsfeet, Dark Angel, Seraphim, some people even started shouting on corners about the rapture wearing those stupid sandwich boards.

Karen hated every single part of it.

She couldn’t help how it made her cry, some nights, the stress bubbling over and she couldn’t sleep until she’d wept all of it out.

On the nights he stayed over, Matt pretended not to hear.

He could hear every word she sobbed, every choked out prayer she tried to keep quiet, every time she would admit to the night she didn’t really think anyone was listening. Sometimes, Karen would just put her head down into her pillow and sigh, cursing her father’s name for what he did to her.

Those nights, Matt would lay awake in bed, hands folded on his chest, eyes lost in the darkness.

If she really was a nephilim as he suspected, well, he’d thought perhaps she’d have less agony over her inhumanity, being a divine and blessed being. And yet, it seemed as if she didn’t believe herself to be human at all, to be worthy of love and care. They shared the belief they were monsters, that they didn’t belong and somehow had to prove themselves to stay here on earth. 

Both of them had been left marked by the beliefs of their parents, cursed or blessed, depending on your point of view.

It made Matt’s heart ache, both in sympathy and in anger.

Because unlike him, Karen was a good person, she did so much good in her own little ways.

Then again, he didn’t know she would say the same thing about him.

Slowly, over the next few weeks, New York forgot about the angel in Hell’s Kitchen when it didn’t appear again. It let Karen breathe a little easier, and gradually she let herself believe that her life wasn’t going to end, that yes in fact she could stay and she hadn’t been discovered. She began to join Foggy on his morning walks to the church to meet up with Matt, to see him off with a smile and, if the chapel was empty, take a little time on her own in the quiet, holy place. 

Reconnecting with her faith hadn’t been something she ever saw herself doing, and yet, now she felt she had something to be grateful for. Maybe it was worth taking a chance?

Most days, Karen didn’t pay much mind to when someone else would come in after her. She’d simply gather her bag and give them a smile as she left, you know to be polite, never noticing the way they watched her. Never noticing how they took note of the way the light fell on her when the sun shone, almost like a halo, nor how their eyes would linger on the small pockmark scars below her eyes. 

What reason did she have to suspect another parishioner?  

Why would she ever think they’d come looking for an angel?

How would she know they’d begun to lay a trap for her?

All it took was one bright morning with an empty chapel and Karen being distracted with a message from work for just long enough. 

She barely had time to scream when someone forced a plastic bag over her head, getting an arm around her neck and dragging her out of view. Before she even really had a chance to fight back, there was a needle in her neck and her vision swam and she fell unconscious in the arms of her captors.

Her captors, who grinned seeing the small feathers starting to emerge on her wrists in her panic.

They really had found her.

And when Karen finally managed to drag herself back to consciousness, she found herself laying on an old, thin mattress, with the bars of a cage overhead. At first, she could only blink, squinting and trying to force her vision to focus. When reality finally began to settle in, she sat up with a gasp, her heart jumping into her throat in pure panic.

No! No no no no! Not again! Not again! She’d been good she’d been GOOD!

Already she could feel power prickling under her skin, feathers threatening to sprout in her panic. Karen’s hands began to tremble both in fear and pain, memories of her father filling her mind, of what he’d done to her. “No, no no no! Please no!”

Her legs trembled as she stood, stumbling over to the bars of what appeared to be a door, a door that didn’t budge no matter how she threw herself against its silver bars. 

She…

She couldn’t get out.

Not while she was only human.

She needed the strength.

They could not keep her here.

Karen couldn’t help the way she screamed as she let the change overtake her, a sound full of pain and rage as her wings practically ripped out of her, slamming into the walls of the cage. And yet, despite being at her full, inhuman strength, she couldn’t even get the bars to bend.

Behind her, she heard a door open, and she froze.

“There she is!” an unfamiliar voice practically sang. “Our angel on earth, our beloved!”

Karen turned slowly, not bothering to try and smile, to try and look ‘beautiful’ or ‘divine’. She was pissed off and scared and this stranger had no right to do this to her.

The stranger, a middle-aged woman in long light blue robes with dark hair pulled back in a braid, slowly approached the cage. On either side of her followed two people, disciples probably, wearing less regal versions of the same robes, but the same expression of fascination and awe. 

Karen couldn’t help bristling, scowling to show off all her teeth, stalking over to the bars to face her captors. How dare they ogle her like this? She wasn’t some fucking pet!

“Isn’t she beautiful?” the woman hummed, clasping her hands together, eyes practically sparkling. “Truly, truly beautiful.”

“She is,” one of the woman’s followers echoed, reaching out towards the cage.

Idiot, didn’t he know not to put his hand inside the cage of a pissed off animal? Karen snagged his wrist, letting her claws dig into his arm, and her voice came out in a growl. “Don’t fucking touch me. ”

“Relax! Relax love!” the woman came closer, putting her hand over Karen’s until she let go of the disciple, who staggered back with wide eyes. “You’re safe, you’re safe here. That fiend can’t get to you now.”

Karen pulled back, brow furrowed in confusion. “What? What fiend?”

“The exorcist!” the woman answered, almost cheerfully, folding her hands again. “He’s a liar, a fiend, and no one can see it, not like we can. And now, you’re safe.”

Again, anger welled in Karen’s chest and she couldn’t help the way she shouted, “Safe? In a fucking cage!? ”

“Away from the world that would hurt you.”

“No!” She grabbed the bars with both hands, starting to tremble in rage. “No! You can’t do this! I have a life! I’m not a fucking monster that needs to be hidden!”

“And you’re absolutely right!” The woman came even closer, putting her hands over Karen’s and making her fight a shiver. “Once the demon has been taken care of, I promise you, you’ll be free to truly join us. The compound up north is beautiful, you’ll have all the space you desire to be yourself.”

“I’m not joining your fucking cult,” Karen hissed, fighting the urge to punch the smile off her stupid smug face.

But the woman frowned, sighing somberly. “This is where you belong, angel dearest, here, with us.”

“No! I want to go home!”

“You’ll grow comfortable in time,” she continued, turning away from Karen, her voice heavy. “This is where you’re meant to be.”

Again Karen tried to pry at the bars, fighting the way her throat felt tight with fear and tears. “No! No let me go! I have friends! I have a job!”

“And now…” The woman paused in the doorway with her disciples, looking back at Karen with such sadness. “We are the only friends you need. We’ll leave you to rest.”

“No please!” Karen’s voice cracked, “Don’t leave me here! Let me out please!”

But the cultists left and locked the door behind them, leaving her alone in the small, dimly lit room. Karen’s eyes prickled with tears and she screamed, pulling with all her strength and kicking at the lock but unable to get any of it to budge. Slowly, she sank to her knees, fighting a sob but unable to hold it back.

God she felt so, so alone.

Who the hell were they talking about, a demon exorcist? They couldn’t possibly mean Matt or Foggy, could they? Foggy was definitely human and, Matt… Matt was so nice, and he’d been an exorcist for so long, why would they call him a demon?

Unless…

He couldn’t, be like her, could he?

No… no she, he couldn’t be… He wasn’t a monster. He’d never, he’d never shown the signs like her father had spoken of. Things, things like her were horrible, divine or infernal, because they were proof humanity could corrupt angels, that it could be corrupted by humans, that they were flawed and terrible and only meant for ruin.

And yet… There had been all those small things.

The way she somehow always knew when he was listening, the way his eyes would seem to glow behind his glasses when he got passionate… But… no no no he… he was too good for that… It couldn’t be true!

Why would she even believe a cultist who locked her in a cage anyway?

They had to be lying. The same way they were lying about her being beautiful. She, she was disgusting, she was horrible, dangerous and unnatural.  

She couldn’t be holy, she couldn’t be the personification of good, all she’d ever been was corruption, proof humanity ruined everything it touched.

Foggy and Matt were the only people who made her doubt that… and if Matt really was a demon… He couldn’t be the personification of evil, not when he had been better than her from before the day they met. He’d fought fate at every turn, refused to be what they said he would be.

And Karen had become exactly what her father said she’d be.

So maybe this was where she belonged.

Alone, in a cage, again.

When the church had found out what she was, despite her father’s damndest attempts to hide her, to make her normal, they’d locked her in the basement for five fucking months. They’d said it was to purify her for marriage to God, but it felt like torture, like starvation and cold and pain pain pain in her bones.

And when the day finally came they’d let her out into the sunshine, dressed her up like a bride and sent her out to where someone was waiting with a very, very long knife. Her father, he’d just stood there, he’d been smiling even as Karen begged him for help, because he believed this was the right thing to do, it’s what God wanted.

So she’d run, of course.

Not like they could really stop her from just flying away. 

No way to fly away from this now, and no one to come looking for her.

But, maybe… Maybe her friends would realize she’d disappeared. They had before, they cared about what happened to her. Maybe they’d, maybe they’d find her.

Until then, she would just have to lay here, and wait.

Caged.

Chapter Text

“I’m just thinking she’s going through something,” Foggy was saying, waving his free hand in circles as he and Matt walked down the sidewalk, arm in arm. They’d finished their work for the day, aka digging through old books looking for anything useful, and as the sun had started to set, they were headed to meet Karen at the chapel. “I mean, like, she never used to go to church, hell I know she’s got some serious baggage with it, and now, if I didn’t know better, I’d say she’s even more devout than you!”

“Maybe our work is inspiring her to find her faith,” Matt offered, giving a vague gesture with the top of his cane. “I mean, it happens, pretty frequently actually. People find out Hell is real in some way and they start looking for ways out.”

Foggy sighed, but it came out more of a groan. “God yeah don’t remind me… Every time I think about it, I wonder what ugly little imp is going to be roasting my handsome physique on a spit after I die.”

“Oh come on, you’re not going to Hell Foggy, you’re too good for that,” Matt said with a genuine, soft smile. (He hoped)

Giving a short laugh, Foggy stepped away to push open the church door, so they could walk inside. “If you say so dude. I just, I dunno, I don’t think I can do the whole praying and confessions and tithing things.”

Matt shook his head as he carefully moved inside, “Don’t worry about all that, just keep trying to help people and you should be… fine…” He frowned, listening to how his voice echoed in the very empty chapel. 

“Matt? Is everything alright?” Foggy asked, coming to stand beside him, placing a steadying hand on his upper arm. 

“Karen’s not here,” he answered, frowning deeply.

He could hear Foggy’s heart skip a nervous beat as it picked up. “Shit… Shit you’re right.”

“Can you-”

“Yeah, yeah I’ll take a look, maybe she left something in the pews or, something. I’ll be right back.”

As Matt heard him run off, he couldn’t help turning, pacing in a tight circle, gripping the handle of his cane so tight he heard it creak in protest. A familiar, dangerous prickle raced down his spine, itched just below his hairline. No, no not now, he had to keep calm, she was probably fine right? Karen was a grown up, probably half angel, she could handle herself, right?

“MATT!” 

Turning towards Foggy’s shout, he almost fell over one of the pews trying to make his way over. “What? What??”

“Karen’s shoes! They’re just sitting under one of the pews, like someone hid them,” Foggy answered, confusion and anger and worry all bleeding into his voice. “I mean I know sometimes she’d take them off in public when having a flareup but like… She wouldn’t just leave these behind, right?”

“No, no she wouldn’t…”

“Shit man, do you think someone grabbed her?”

Matt bit his tongue, because his suspicions were only that, suspicions. Even if he thought he knew why someone would go after Karen, it wasn’t like he actually had evidence. But even still, she was in trouble, that much was clear. “I, I don’t know. But whoever was here probably left some kind of clue. If we can, find out if anyone saw her, maybe we can figure out where she went?”

“Thinking like a detective now,” Foggy said, handing him the shoes and starting to investigate. He stepped carefully into the pew, looking side to side for any sort of clue, and there came a rustling sound as he picked something up. “Someone’s left fliers all over this place, looks like they’re for some other church. Maybe whoever put these here saw Karen?”

“Is there an address?” Matt asked, trying not to let the anger into his voice.

“Uh, yeah looks like it, should only be a short cab ride,” Foggy reported, flipping through it. “Damn, whoever these people are, they’re chugging the Kool-aid. They’re acting like they’ve got that angel from a few weeks ago on their payroll.”

Oh.

Fuck.

If they had anywhere near the same suspicions as Matt did, if they knew anything about Nephilim, they’d probably have made the same connections about Karen. And if they caught her alone and unaware… “Why don’t we pay them a visit? See if they know anything.” 

Foggy’s phone beeped as he pulled it out to call a cab, “Way ahead of you dude.”

As they waited for the cab, Matt tapped one nervous hand against his cane and tried his best not to look nervous, he didn’t notice the concerned look Foggy gave him when he caught the scent of sulfur. (Ah, he was probably smelling things right? Matt hadn’t gotten possessed just because of twenty minutes of anxiety haha. Right?)

Turned out whatever this angel-church was, calling themselves the Heavenly Walkers, it had popped up in the heart of Hell’s Kitchen. No doubt before the angel appeared they’d been spreading the word among the destitute, and if Matt had to guess, probably manipulating them. He didn’t trust churches with any sort of ego, and just given the way Foggy described all the ostentatious banners they’d hung up on the small building they’d bought, these people were on the quick road to becoming a real cult.

What really caught his attention, as they lingered on the sidewalk outside trying to make a plan, was the sound of a familiar voice crying coming from somewhere in the building. Foggy couldn’t hear it of course, even as they walked up the steps to knock on the door, but Matt knew for sure now.

These people had taken Karen, and they’d made her cry.

He only half listened as they were welcomed in by a woman who sounded far, far too friendly, more focused on locating the source of the weeping. Towards the back of the building, a room tucked away behind a larger space that had been set up like a chapel, with chairs and an altar. When the woman and Foggy turned their backs, actually talking about Matt and Foggy insisting they weren’t there for spiritual healing, he slipped away down a side hall.

With a soft click, he broke his cane down and folded it up, slipping it into his coat and tilting his head, listening intently. People moved about upstairs, many of them chatting with voices full of faith and joy, and a few were reading in a room nearby. No one was near the sound of the crying, keeping watch, they simply had no reason to think anyone would come looking.

As silent as possible, Matt hurried towards the sound, towards the scent of sage that slowly grew stronger as he crept closer, finding all of it coming from behind a heavyset wooden door. Would anyone have heard her through such a door? It seemed made specifically with the intent to imprison, and yet, they’d left it unlocked.

Careful, very careful, Matt turned the knob and pushed it open. “Karen?”

He heard a gasp, the scrambling of claws on concrete and the fluttering of feathers, a hoarse voice begging when it spoke- “Don’tlookatme.”

Darting into the room, he eased the door shut, not even daring to breathe too loudly until the latch clicked. Then, he smiled in the direction of the voice. “Wouldn’t matter even if I did.”

“Oh, oh shit, Matt.” That was definitely Karen, even if her voice sounded weird from crying and, probably screaming too.

As he snuck closer to her, his footsteps revealed the space a little better, shaping out the birdcage structure they’d locked her in. He couldn’t help scowling, reaching out to touch one of the bars. “God… they put you in a cage?”

“Yeah, yeah I…” Karen swallowed hard, and he got the impression she was trying not to move too much, lest he heard something he shouldn’t. “There’s, there’s a door, over here, but I can’t… I can’t get it open. I tried but…” 

They both went silent as a pair of laughing voices walked by outside, and Karen let out a shaky sigh, poor woman was on a hairpin trigger out of fear.

“Karen…” She looked up at him, sniffing. Matt hesitated before he spoke. “When I say this, I promise I’m not accusing you of anything but… These people… They took you because you’re the angel, aren’t you?”

Karen flinched, turning away and drawing her wings in close around herself like a shield. “No… no I’m not an angel. I’m, I’m the result of corruption, of humanity’s weakness ruining an angel. I’m a monster.”

“A nephilim. You… you don’t deserve to be caged.” It made her feel sick to hear the surprise, the awe in her friend’s voice. No, no she didn’t want this, worship almost felt worse than imprisonment. But then again, weren’t they kind of the same right now?

She forced herself to speak up, “Please just, just let me out of here.”

“I’ll try.”

Running his hands along the bars as he circled the cage, Matt found the locked door, made of the same heavy silver and not so easily bent. Karen came over and together they began to pry, to pull, to do anything to deform the bars, to get the lock to slip. And yet, despite their combined strength, it refused to budge more than a little.

“Shit… shit and the lady in charge has the key,” Karen whined, putting her head in her hands. “What are we going to do?”

Matt glanced up at her, his face hard to read behind those glasses, and he drew himself up a little straighter. “I… I have an idea but… Karen?”

“Yeah?”

He took hold of the bars in the door, and his voice carried a deadly seriousness that made her heart sink. “Whatever happens next, I promise, Karen, I would never do anything to hurt you or Foggy, or anyone if I can help it.”

For a moment, she couldn’t find a way to answer. “Wh, what are you-”

“Do you trust me?”

“I…” Did she? After all the cultists had said about him? After all the good he’d done for Foggy, for her… “I do.”

Matt nodded slowly and stepped back, shaking out his hands, brow furrowing in focus. Behind the red lenses of his glasses, Karen saw his eyes flash a bright gold for just a moment. Whatever he was, whatever had made him this way, he couldn’t be worse than she was.

Fire flared, wings spread and horns grew sharp, and Matt took hold of the door again, gritting his teeth as he pulled with all the strength his hellfire would give him. For a moment, Karen had to fight down the fear that welled inside her, the shock and terror but, really, after everything, she wasn’t one to talk. Steeling herself, she joined him at the door, and with all their unnatural strength the lock finally snapped with an echoing metallic CLANG!

Matt stepped back, pulling the door open with him, then rubbing his hands in pain. His palms looked scorched, and Karen couldn’t help blaming herself for how the silver must’ve hurt him. Still, he offered one to her, “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

“I, I think I’m stuck like this,” she admitted, more than a little nervous.

“That’ll work in your favor, we get you outside and you can get out of here fast.”

“But, Matt, what about you?” Rooms away, they heard voices start to rise, and footsteps pounding.

Matt’s mouth twisted into a scowl and he grabbed Karen’s hand. “Don’t worry about me, you’re the one who’s kidnapped here. Come on, we have to go now .”

He pulled her by the hand, maybe a bit hard, out into the hallway where they broke into a sprint. Neither noticed that the little touch didn’t burn.

Without thinking, they ran towards the shouting voices, towards Foggy’s voice rising over the din, demanding to know where Karen had been taken. They burst through a set of double doors back into the chapel area, and found Foggy being restrained by the cultists, the leader shouting something about him seeing the truth.

Only to go quiet as the monsters came face to face with them.

Matt instinctively took a step back, and Karen moved behind him, afraid. Foggy’s eyes were wide, both with surprise and, maybe with fear.

The woman in charge smiled, slow, dangerous. “Ah, perfect, here they are.”

“Let him go,” Matt said in a low voice creeping towards a snarl, his tail lashing. “He’s only human.”

“You don’t get to make demands, demon! ” the priestess snapped, balling her hands into fists. “You return our angel, and we’ll consider simply sending you back to hell instead of destroying you like you deserve.”

“You couldn’t manage that even if there were twelve of you.” Matt moved one of his wings protectively around Karen, “She’s not yours. She belongs to no one. ”

“Very well.” From within her robes, the priestess drew a long, silver blade. “We’ll just have to kill you before you spread your corruption and hell any more!”

But before she could even make a move, Foggy kicked her hard in the leg and smashed his head back into the face of one of the cultists holding him captive. Before anyone could react, Matt darted forward, scooping up a book from the makeshift chapel pews and throwing it hard, making it bounce impressively off the forehead of Foggy’s other captor, making them stagger. Karen grabbed another and, though her aim was far less precise, she knocked the staggering priestess completely off her feet, giving Foggy a chance to escape, to run.

And as he reached the doors, he glanced back, eyes full of panic.

Maybe he thought they could handle it.

Or maybe he was afraid of them too.

As the cultists got back to their feet, Matt backed up again, looking around as if he might see a way out. “Karen, is there a skylight up there?”

“Y-Yeah, a big one,” she answered, despite sounding terrified.

She startled when he took her hand, looking serious. “We have to go through the window again, up and out. You’ll have to lead the way okay?”

Karen could only nod as they took to the air.

From out on the street, where the sun had set and the sky had gone dark, Foggy stopped on the opposite sidewalk and looked upwards at the sound of shattering glass. His heart sank as he saw two familiar figures taking to the sky, flying away.

Inhuman, and terrifying.

Chapter Text

How long had it been since he’d flown?

Not long enough.

The absolute lack of stimulus except for the wind, the lack of contact with anything anywhere, the only vague belief the ground was somewhere below, if it weren’t for Karen acting as a guide, Matt probably wouldn’t be able to get down. 

He was glad, for her sake, that it was already dark. The last thing they needed was even more news about an angel in the Kitchen, this time being chased by the devil himself. Besides, it was clear from Karen’s little noises of panic that it’s been ages since she’d flown too, they probably looked really stupid up there. 

They flew until Karen found the building she’d taken shelter in before, still dark and empty, with a wide rooftop great for landing. She touched down first, ruffling her feathers before folding her wings up and looking expectantly towards Matt, who still hovered overhead, hesitant. When he tried to land, it ended up being more of a mild crash, barely keeping hold of his glasses before they could fall off his face and shatter as he ended up on his back.

“Are- are you okay?” Karen asked in a panic, hurrying to his side.

He just nodded, slowly propping himself up with a hiss. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine, just overshot. Are you-”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” she said with a breath of relief, despite feeling like a rubberband ready to snap inside. 

They moved out of view of the street, sitting against the rooftop exit wall, side by side. A cold wind rushed by and Matt shivered, wrapping his wings around himself for warmth and folding his arms tight. “So…”

Karen couldn’t help the way she bunched her hands in her skirt, looking away to avoid his eye. He already knew what she was, he’d guessed long before she ever told him, so why did it feel so risky to speak up now? “Are you… full? Or half?”

“I… don’t know,” he admitted, leaning his head back against the wall. “It’s… complicated.”

Despite her curiosity, Karen pushed her questions down, tried to be polite. “You don’t need to tell me.”

“No I mean, I literally don’t know what I am,” he insisted, fighting another shiver. “Just… I know I’m dangerous.”

Stupid, stupid! Dumb question, why did you ask that? Karen looked out at the city, biting down hard on the bad feelings swirling in her gut. “Oh… oh I, I’m sorry.”

Matt shook his head, gesturing with one hand. “No no it’s, it’s okay. Um, have you, always been like this?” 

‘This,’ as if him and her were… the same. Karen hugged her legs, no, no they weren’t the same, she was worse. “Yeah, I was, I was born this way.”

She fought the urge to jump as Matt silently lifted a wing and tucked it around her shoulders, clearly trying to be a comforting gesture. “Karen I… I’m sorry.”

Hesitant, she shifted closer and leaned on his shoulder, allowing herself to relax slowly. “I… I never met my mother, or found out how my dad managed it… all I know is my father was devout, and I was living fucking proof humanity corrupts everything it touches.”

“Mm, I wouldn’t say that,” Matt hummed, turning his head towards her, and she got the feeling he could see her more than most could. “I think… you’re proof humanity can be so much more than mortal.”

Karen’s chest felt tight, she hugged her legs a little closer. “I don’t think anyone believes that.”

“I do, isn’t that enough?” He turned his head up, towards the sky, towards the heavens. “You… bring so much light to the lives around you, I’ve seen it in Foggy, in the people at the church, and you were so kind when we first met… Hell you saved that possessed nun without even hesitating.”

Somewhere on the street below, two drunks were having an argument, and a few blocks over a siren raced by. Karen swallowed hard, and her voice came out so quiet. “Foggy won’t believe it.” 

The wing around her shoulders pulled her a little closer. “He might not. But he might. You’re one of his best friends, he really loves you, Karen.”

“But, Matt, you’ve seen how much he hates demons… he’s…” Her voice caught and she had to take a second to choke down the tears before she could start crying. “He’d never believe I’m not one, and even if he does… I’ve lied to him our whole friendship. He… he probably hates us both now.”

She saw Matt turn away, heard the unsteady breath he took. “You’d think after watching me exorcize so many demons he’d, he’d realize I’m on his side.”

“You’d think being roommates for almost a year and he’d know I was too,” Karen sighed, rubbing her upper arms to try and coax a little warmth back into them. “But… Matt, the look in his eyes, he was terrified of us.”

“We did lie to him. We…” He began to check his pockets, “We should call him, apologize, before-”

“Matt-” Karen caught his hand, gentle. “Let’s, let’s try to calm down first, okay? Give, give him some space too.”

“Okay, okay… I just… I hope he listens.”

“Me too.” She shifted closer, leaning fully on his shoulder, wings pulled close. They felt heavy as lead, but they blocked out the cold wind as it brushed past them again, making Matt draw a little closer too, leaning his head on hers, feeling her feathers tickle his cheek.

For a moment, they simply sat in silence, shivering occasionally in the chill.

And… Matt found himself wondering, why hadn’t he burned her? Why hadn’t Karen’s touch smote him from this world? Weren’t they supposed to be enemies in their nature? A demon and an angel, like sodium and water, or fire and gunpowder, contact ought to have ended in explosive violence.

Yet nothing had happened.

Was it, because they weren’t pure?

Two impure beings from different sides, Karen not quite angelic enough and Matt not quite demonic enough.

But what did that make them? Human? Something else entirely? 

Well, whatever they were, it was exhausting, and it didn’t seem like they were going to stop being it any time soon tonight. Maybe they ought to risk just going home, if only to have somewhere warmer to sleep. Karen seemed to be doing alright, but Matt felt fit to go hypothermic, either way a warm bed sounded really really nice right now.

“Think we can fly home?” Karen asked after feeling Matt shiver for the sixth time. “You’re freezing, and, it’s dark enough we won’t get spotted.”

He nodded, trying to keep his teeth from chattering when he spoke. “You’ll, you’ll have to lead again. I get, disoriented up there.”

She smiled, taking one of his hands and giving it a squeeze, “I can do that.”

Together, they took to the skies again, carefully making their way back to the little brownstone house Karen and Foggy shared. Silent as possible, they touched down in the backyard and crept up to the back door. For just a moment, both felt a little relief, thinking Foggy might’ve gone somewhere else for the night, until they saw him through the back window, sitting somberly at the dinner room table, head in his hands.

Oh.

Still, Karen tried to be quiet as she unlocked the door and they crept inside.

It didn’t work, and the moment Foggy heard them, he glanced up and gasped. “Oh god fucking- THERE YOU ARE!”

Matt took Karen’s hand again as their friend stood and stormed over, angry if his footsteps were anything to go by. “Look, Foggy, I-I can explain.”

But before he could, Foggy walked right up to them and-

Hugged them.

One arm around each friend pulling them close and giving a shaky, relieved sigh. Slowly, Matt returned the hug, trying not to scratch him and finally allowing himself to relax a little. Karen seemed more hesitant, and it took a gentle nudge to get her to embrace her friend. 

“I’m so mad at you two,” Foggy grumbled, despite refusing to let go.

“Not like there was ever a good time to tell you,” Matt said with a weak chuckle,

“Shut up. Just shut up. I’m not listening to anything you say right now.” 

“Shutting up.” Instead, he tucked his face into Foggy’s shoulder, savoring his warmth, and Karen squeezed him a little tighter too. 

It was… a while before Foggy let go, stepping back and folding his arms like a disappointed dad. His friends had the decency to look ashamed, Karen nervously folding her arms as she studied the floor and Matt avoiding anything that might end up being incidental eye contact.

Foggy tried to say something first, only to groan in frustration (mostly at himself) when it didn’t work the first time. Still, he tried again. “This would’ve been nice to know about before the rescue mission.”

“I, only had a theory about Karen,” Matt admitted, folding his hands together in such a way that made it obvious he wished he had his cane to hold. “And uh, well, all this was supposed to go away after breaking her out. Stress… makes that a little difficult.”

“I, didn’t want you thinking I was a monster, or something worse,” Karen added, shoulders drooping shamefully.

Taking a deep breath, Foggy rubbed his eyes. “You two are my friends, whatever weird shit this is doesn’t just magically redefine what I know about you. I’m pissed off that you never told me! And-” He paused, noticing that somehow Karen had managed to wilt even further in her shame and Matt had started doing that stupid stoic thing he did when he got too emotional. “I… Think we should all go to bed. It’s, late, we can talk in the morning.”

Matt gave a thin smile, “Yeah, some rest would be good for all of us, clear our heads and… It’s been a hell of a day.”

“Exactly.” Foggy turned away, heading towards the kitchen, probably for a drink. “I’ll… see you guys in the morning.”

“Guess I’m staying the night again,” Matt hummed, offering Karen a hand again. 

He didn’t need to see the soft, sad way she smiled to know how she was feeling when she took his hand, trailing after him as they headed upstairs. If she was being honest with herself, she didn’t want to be alone tonight, let alone trying to sleep on her own. 

When they reached the guest room, Matt paused when he realized Karen was still following him. “Do… Do you want to, stay with me?”

She nodded, looking down at the floor again. “I… yeah, I-I don’t think I can be alone right now… A-and Foggy’s too pissed.”

“Well, um, I’ve been told sometimes I get, twitchy, in my sleep.” He offered a weak grin, “You’ve been warned?”

“I’ve been warned,” Karen echoed, sounding tired. 

Thankfully, the guest bed was big enough to fit both of them, even if it didn’t leave much space for rolling over and their wings ended up kind of draping all over the sides. It was comfortable enough, and that’s what mattered, really. As Karen lay there, watching Matt carefully set his glasses and his cane into a place he would easily find them, she noticed that his eyes had changed color when he changed form.

They had become a soft gold color.

It… was kind of beautiful.

Downstairs, Foggy locked all the doors, and as quietly as he could manage, he slipped away into the night.

Chapter Text

The last time he’d heard the last call at Josie’s, Foggy had been unhealthily coping with quitting and getting fired simultaneously from Landman and Zach’s. Only, he hadn’t been alone that time, he’d had Karen to laugh with over stupid things, her trying her best to cheer him up and see the bright side to it all. Even if there hadn’t been a bright side and he’d likely gotten possessed soon after, she had tried, and for that night it had worked.

This time though, he was alone, and probably two bottles too far gone, head down on the bar trying to process, well, anything . 

The two people in this goddamn city who he cared about, the two people he thought he knew, and both of them had been lying through their teeth every single friggin day since they met. 

He was so stupid to not have noticed, especially with Matt! God looking back there had been so many signs and Foggy had just, buried his head in the sand because “oh no it’s not ghosts and demons he’s just a little weird”! 

But even on that first day he’d just been a little extra weird even on top of the blind thing. Like Foggy wasn’t about to judge whatever mythical coping mechanisms the guy needed to survive day to day but some of it was just weird. Matt had actually gotten to their room first, apparently he’d been there all day by the time Foggy arrived, just in time to see him throw down the little rug he’d brought, like he was trying to hide something.

Now that he thought about it, Foggy wondered if Matt had been sleeping over a pentagram the whole goddamn time. 

At first the two just stood there, staring at each other before Foggy cracked a smile. “Guess you beat me here! You must be my roomie!”

“Yeah uh, guess so,” Matt said, trying to grin as he stood up, one hand searching to find the bedpost as a point of reference. (Had it all been an act then too?)

“What time did you even get here? I thought I got up way too early and you still beat me,” Foggy continued as he carried his bags and first box over to the unoccupied side of the room. It was a pleasant surprise to find the room smelled herby, a bit like pine, instead of whatever chemical cleaners or previous occupants might’ve been here. 

Matt just cleared his throat, subtly nudging something under the bed. “I uh, I just, wanted to be here when the doors opened. Make sure the room was, set up in a way I could deal with.”

“What do you-” he began, turning to look at Matt with a little frown, only then noticing the cane resting beside the bedside table, “Oooooh, oh you’re blind?”

“So they tell me.”

“Yeah I guess being here early when the room is all empty makes it a bit easier to get your bearings or something huh.” He rubbed his neck awkwardly, looking around the room, eyes lingering on what appeared to be a dream catcher hung over one of the windows. That, paired with the little rocks in a jar on the bedside, made him wonder if his new roomie was a bit of a hippie. Not like that was a problem or anything, could make things interesting, and weren’t girls totally into that kind of thing?

On that note, taking a closer look at Matt, he was pretty handsome, even if the loose, old sweater and battered sunglasses did make him look very much the part of a broke college kid. Apparently he was a bit of a drama queen too, collapsing onto his bed with a heavy sigh, making Foggy smile and fight a snicker. “Come on dude, chin up! We’re just getting started.”

“Yeah that’s what I’m worried about,” Matt answered, propping himself up. “I haven’t, done this kind of thing in years. I was… mostly homeschooled.”

Foggy’s grin got a little wider as he strode over, sitting on the bed beside his new roomie. “Well in that case, allow me to be your guide into the awesome world of college parties and picking up chicks. Once you get the hang of it, they’re going to be all over us.”

“Us?”

“Yeah! I’m going to be your wingman!”

“It uh, it would help if I knew your name, probably,” Matt said, a soft smile tugging at his mouth.

“Franklin Nelson, but uh, seriously, just call me Foggy.”

They’d shaken hands and, well, pretty much from day one they’d been buddies. Foggy liked to think of himself as an open book, but Matt was so mysterious by comparison, it took months to even piece together his story. He’d lost his vision in some chemical spill, lost his dad a few years later and moved into an orphanage, got picked up by an estranged uncle (who Foggy didn’t entirely believe existed) and lived on the road until he was almost fifteen. It sounded like some kind of young adult novel type fiction, but, it was Matt.

And he… had such a big heart.

He always would spare a coin or a bit of cash for someone in need, he’d help Foggy study at the drop of a hat, and when he argued during debates there was so much passion in what he said. Really he’d always wanted to help people, and then he’d thought maybe becoming a lawyer could let him do it, let him be there for people who had no one else.

Guess being an exorcist did the same but without having to worry about the law.

Matt only ever wanted to help people, even at the cost of his own safety and health.

Ugh okay fine , it made sense he’d never tell Foggy about the demon thing, literally who on earth could you tell about that who wouldn’t immediately jump to “AAAH FIENDISH MONSTER!!!” Any reasonable normal person would jump to supervillain or evil before ever considering he was human. Because clearly he was! He’d gone into the church, touched crosses and holy water, accidentally got salt flung in his face when Foggy panicked mid-exorcism and didn’t burn.

Whatever he was, he wasn’t just a long term demonic possession, he’d always been too human for that.

Foggy almost fell off his barstool as Josie took the bottle out of his hand. “We’re closin’ kid, go home.”

“Yeah, yeah I’m going, I’m going,” he mumbled, rubbing his face as he stood, balance threatening to fail at first. He took a slow steadying breath, tried to adjust his coat, and started towards the door. He couldn’t go home, not yet, but, well, he couldn’t stay here anyway. 

It had gotten very cold outside as he stepped onto the street, glancing up at the sky where the lights of New York made the undersides of the clouds glow. It would likely start to snow in a few weeks, and oh joy, months of ice slick streets and skidding cars and the constant risk of face planting on the sidewalk and dying. Maybe the demons would take a holiday too, avoid the cold. (Matt had always gotten cold so easily, had that been a demon thing too?)

Shivering, Foggy turned up his collar and buttoned up his coat, starting off down the road, walking aimlessly, head full of booze fuzz. Maybe he should give up this grudge, just go home and sleep it off, give them the cold shoulder until he couldn’t anymore.

Like, Matt he understood, Karen not so much. She’d always been so earnest, so honest and open, why had she lied? He could’ve helped her, hell he did! 

The man who came to kill her, the self defense case where they’d friggin, man, he’d helped her get away with murdering her fucking uncle! Didn’t she trust him? 

A loud chiming made him jump out of his skin and he spun on his heel, looking up at the church that towered over him, its bells ringing out that it was 1 am. Maybe, maybe it’d be warmer inside, he could clear his head a little. He had to dig in his pockets to find the ice cold keys Matt had loaned him that let him in through a side door to where it was warm and he could breathe without his lungs stinging.

Foggy rubbed his hands together, trying to coax some warmth back into his fingers as he moved into the chapel, lit only by a streetlight shining through the stained glass windows. It was dead silent in here, even his thoughts seemed to echo as he took a seat in one of the pews and closed his eyes. 

Her uncle, Karen had said she hadn’t seen him since she left home when she was a teenager. What else had she said, when they spoke that day, trying to prepare their case?

“I had to run away,” she’d said, hugging herself in that orange jumpsuit which hadn’t done much against the chill in the interrogation room. “My whole family, my father, my uncle, all of them were being controlled by the church and they hated me. Their expectations were just so… so high. I couldn’t, I couldn’t ever do enough, be enough for them to treat me any better.” She brushed her hair back behind her ear, looking down at the metal table between them, “So when I was old enough to figure things out, I packed a bag and I ran.”

“You, think they’ve been looking for you since then?” Foggy asked, quietly tapping his pen on his notepad, a sound so loud in this little room where only the hum of the air conditioner filled the air.

Karen half shrugged, resting her head on her hand, looking thoroughly exhausted. “Wouldn’t be surprised. If I spoke up, I could bring down their whole little commune for its cruelty but… Y’know… at this point it’s just hearsay right?”

“Unfortunately, yeah.” He tried to offer a smile, “Of course, it helps your case for self defense if you believed your uncle had come to hurt you.”

“He did!” She covered her mouth, surprised at her own outburst. “I, yes, yes he did. I told you, a-and the officers, that he jumped me when I came into the apartment. He had this, this long knife-”

“That they confirmed was your kitchen knife,” Foggy countered.

“Yes! He stole my knife to stab me with it!” 

“Karen! Karen easy, I believe you. Plus your defensive wounds support your story that you weren’t the one holding the knife.” He felt a little bad watching her rub her arms self-consciously, and cleared his throat to continue. “Do you know, why he might want to hurt you? Aside from the obvious.”

Karen visibly hesitated, her eyes going anywhere but up at Foggy’s as she tried to come up with an answer. Now he figured she’d been debating if he could be trusted with the real truth, that they’d come looking for an angel, one they’d called unholy and terrible. 

God what else had they done to her? When their friendship had started, she’d never wanted to talk about religion, only said she had a rocky relationship. For a while, he’d figured there was some kind of trauma related to it given how she acted just… jeez he hadn’t been expecting this.

And yet, now it explained a lot, how she knew to seek holy help when he snapped while possessed, how nervous she’d gotten when he’d joined Matt to be an exorcist…

Fuck, now he couldn’t be mad at her either. He just, wanted to keep her safe.

Foggy groaned, dropping his head into his hands, his voice echoing in the empty space of the chapel.

What the hell was he going to do? How could he tell them he wasn’t happy but he forgave them? How could he prove that they were still his friends despite what happened? Ugh, he should probably get home first, if he was gone come morning, Matt would start blaming himself and Karen would panic, he could see it now!

At least, walking home would be a little easier now, he’d sobered up just enough to make it without getting too terribly lost and distracted. All the while, the anger he’d felt melted into guilt and deep worry for his friends. Were they hurting? Were they okay? How could he make it up to them? How could he keep them safe?

The house stood dark and silent as Foggy unlocked the front door and crept inside, trying not to make a sound and wake them. He slipped out of his shoes and coat, threw the lock again, and moved quietly up the narrow stairs and down the hall to the guest room. The sound of the handle creaking made him flinch as he eased the door open and peeked into the dim room, the sight beyond bringing a deep feeling of relief.

Matt and Karen looked human again, the light of a street lamp outside picking out their forms from the shadows, and they looked at ease. At some point, clearly, Karen had curled into Matt against the cold, and he’d put a protective arm around her, even in his sleep, he could always be so thoughtful and worried.

Whatever those two were, they weren’t monsters, they weren’t bad. How could he have ever seen them as demons? They were just, not quite human, and Foggy hadn’t understood. They weren’t anything like the demons they’d run into on the job. Didn’t matter what curse Matt had either, he hadn’t let it make him into a bad person, while Karen hadn’t let herself be controlled and chained. Hell, it’d gotten her kidnapped! When all she’d ever done was try to be normal, to be herself.

Carefully, Foggy pulled the door shut again, breathing a deep sigh of relief.

Maybe he could start simple, with his apology.

Breakfast, he could make breakfast, then be a big boy and tell them he didn’t care. He just wanted his friends to be okay, and he understood why they’d lied, even if it hurt.

It wasn’t worth losing them.

Chapter Text

Matt woke to the distant clatter of pans, and for a moment he felt confused, having to remind himself where he was, and who was asleep in his arms. Still fast asleep, the smell of sage that surrounded Karen had faded away, and she felt warmer to the touch. He flexed one of his hands, feeling pins and needles spring up as the muscles came back to life.

With a careful wiggle, he slipped his arm out from under Karen and sat up, rubbing his face with both hands. He felt human again, even if his chest and back felt deeply sore from flying for the first time in years. The lingering warmth of hellfire had cooled down to embers and he didn’t feel like he was fighting it anymore, clearly a rest had been what he needed.

Beside him, groaning in pain, Karen rolled onto her back, throwing an arm over her face. Matt fought a little smile, “Good morning to you too.”

“The good part is… debatable,” she mumbled, her shoulders making an uncomfortable creaking sound when she rolled them.

“Did you sleep alright?”

“Yeah, yeah I did.” A smile entered her voice and she lifted her arm, “You helped.”

“You asked,” he countered, smiling slightly in return. Downstairs, there came another sound of a pan scraping as it was moved. “I… think Foggy is making us breakfast.”

Again, Karen’s bones creaked as she dragged herself into a sitting position, rubbing her lower back. “Really? That’s, that’s nice of him.”

“Think he’s forgiven us?” Matt hated the way his voice came out too soft, too worried, and his chest felt tight at the thought.

Maybe Karen felt the same, her heartbeat picking up as she hesitated to respond. “I… I sure hope so.”

Matt offered her a hand, “Ready to find out?”

“Assuming I can get downstairs without dislocating something-” she said, slipping her hand into his, “- yeah, yeah I think so.”

It took quite a bit of effort to get Karen on her feet, her whole body protesting after the stress of the day before, but together they managed to safely hobble downstairs where her wheelchair was waiting. The left wheel squeaked a little as the two nervously crept towards the kitchen.

And, Matt had to pause, relief easing the tension in his shoulders and chest. Foggy was humming as he cooked, some song that’d been on the radio the last few weeks, and a subtle, fruity smell filled the kitchen. Blueberries, maybe? Foggy had said blueberry pancakes were Karen’s favorite…

Maybe he really had forgiven them.

“Blueberry pancakes, huh?” Matt said as they entered the kitchen.

Foggy glanced up slightly, but didn’t turn away from the stove. “I made some plain too, if you prefer.”

“No no, they smell amazing.” He moved to lean on the counter, trying to think of more to say. “I uh, haven’t had them since I was a kid.”

“Ah well, I can’t beat being made by a parent,” Foggy chuckled, actually looking at Matt and gesturing with his spatula. “Don’t expect them to be that good.”

Matt found himself smiling, “My dad wasn’t a very good cook, I’m sure they’re going to be great.”

They had to rearrange the chairs a little bit so Karen had space in her wheelchair to sit with them at the table as Foggy served breakfast. It really did smell amazing, and despite the events of the evening before, things felt like they had before. Easy, safe, familiar. Of course, you didn’t need superpowers to sense the elephant in the room.

“You’ve, probably got questions,” Matt began after everyone had a chance to eat and sip a little coffee.

“Yeah that’s the understatement of the year,” Foggy said with a soft chuckle, putting his mug down with a clink. (His coffee smelled more like vanilla and sugar than coffee) “Like, for example, how the hell does this kind of thing happen? 

When Karen didn’t answer, nervously looking down at her breakfast, Matt answered for them both. “Well, ah, Karen’s mom was an angel, and I think I’m cursed? Never really found a word for whatever I am.”

Foggy blinked, letting out a slow, bewildered sigh as he glanced between his friends. “That’s… Wow okay. So, so why be an exorcist if you’re, y’know, a demon? Kind of. Not that I think you’re evil or anything I just, I’ve been wondering all night basically. And I mean every time we do it you get a massive nosebleed and I got worried we’ve been frying your brain-”

“Foggy it’s fine.” Matt took a moment to think, to figure out the words, tapping on his utensil quietly. “I… had this teacher, and he showed me how to fight the demon inside me. He also told me how to find demons, exorcize them, protect people. Something wicked tried to make me a monster and, I refused. The exorcisms feel like a fight I can win, something good I can do to prove I’m not one of them. ”

He almost jumped when Karen placed a hand on his arm, “I think you’ve done a really good job at that, Matt.”

“Agreed, it’s really kind of awesome,” Foggy added, nudging his other arm with an elbow and a playful grin. “Just, try not to drop bombshells like that on me at literally the worst time possible.”

Matt laughed, just once. “I’ll try, promise.”

Maybe he could tell them about Stick, about their time on the road, later. But he would tell them, finally bleed the poison of those years alone.

A lot of that time had faded into the fuzz of childhood, made worse by how much of it had been based on senses he still hadn’t quite gotten the hang of. And yet, though it had been years, those last few days still stood out clear.

He’d been training with Stick for four years at that point, a blind exorcist and his young apprentice, hitchhiking and taking buses to where they were needed. The old man never gave away just how he always knew where trouble had begun to brew, and when Matty asked, Stick would just grin and say he had connections. Back then, Matt wondered if, somehow, a blind man had The Sight, if he could see into the other world and speak with the dead and with spirits.

Things had changed while they were staying at some hotel that smelled like mothballs and urine despite the cleaning crews’ most valiant attempt to smother it with cleaning supplies. Matt remembered sitting on the musty scratchy uncomfortable bed massaging deep bruises on his arms from their last training session. It’d take years for him to realize that a real teacher, a real guardian, didn’t hit their student or their charge when they made mistakes, no matter how dire that mistake might have been.

Outside in the parking lot, some couple was having a screaming argument, and Matt had been so focused on their conversation he almost didn’t notice the heavy boot footfalls approaching their door to knock. Five times, in a specific rhythm, one that got Stick on his feet and answering the door. The person smelled like tobacco, and like sage, the combination made Matt frown in discomfort.

Whoever it was nodded, and their jewelry jangled softly. “Stick. I thought I’d find you here.”

“Cross,” the old man said, voice level but with just the hint of surprise. “What are you doing here?”

The stranger, Cross, whose voice sounded deep and rumbled in his chest, folded his arms. “I came to get you. We need you, back home.”

The doorframe under Stick’s hand creaked as his grip tightened, and Matty knew he would’ve looked back towards him. “We’re not discussing this here. Come on.”

He shut the door behind him and Matty slipped off of the bed, creeping over to the door and pressing his ear up against it. It was easy to follow Cross’s heavy footfalls across the rickety second story walkway, down the creaking metal stairs, and out into the parking lot. Stick knew how good his ears were, and out by the highway would make it difficult for Matt to eavesdrop.

Of course, he had been practicing.

When they reached the grassy divide between the parking lot and the rushing highway, Stick tapped his cane twice, leaning on it casually. “What’s going on Cross? This isn’t just some small problem, is it?”

Cross’s jewelry- earrings and a necklace, maybe beads braided into his hair, Matt thought- jangled again as he shook his head. “No, it’s not. Our enemies are on the move, Stone’s visions have been getting worse and all of us can sense something on the horizon. We need you, Stick.”

“The boy isn’t ready,” he countered, frowning deeply.

“You need to forget about him.” Cross put a heavy hand on Stick’s shoulder, “I know you’re convinced you can save him, that he can be some holy warrior, but he’s just a kid. You’ve done your job, he can grow up now, it’s over, and we need you at The Chapel.”

Not just a chapel, not the chapel of this middle-of-nowhere town that smelled like coal smoke, but THE Chapel. Somewhere important, the place where Stick had learned? The place where Cross had come from maybe?

“I can’t leave him out here, he’d be scooped up by something wicked before the new moon,” Stick said in a low voice, perhaps a bit of anger in his tone. Anger at being cut off? Anger at being ordered around? Or angered that someone was preparing to attack his people?

Cross sighed, “Stick even if he came with us, he’s so young that if they discovered what he was, they would try to get their claws in him. Then your teaching, every skill you gave him, would be turned on us.”

“No, he’s a good kid, I just-”

“You’re out of time, Stick. Maybe in a few years you can try again, but right now? We’re in danger, the living world is in danger.” 

The silence hung heavy between them, and Stick’s cane creaked as he gripped it with barely contained anger, but Cross remained unintimidated when he continued.

“How long do you need?” He asked, folding his arms, standing his ground.

Stick stayed quiet, a motorcycle raced past on the road, engine roaring. “A week. I’ll take him back to where I found him, say he’s been cured. He can take care of himself now.”

No, no that wasn’t fair! He couldn’t send Matt back to that place, if they caught him during an episode, he’d be locked in the basement again! But, if he tried to protest, he might just get left in the middle of nowhere. At least that place had been, home, in a way... And there was the trust Dad had left for him…

When the second story walkway squeaked, Matt scrambled back from the door and moved back over to the bed, to act like he hadn’t been eavesdropping, even if Stick knew anyway when he came in. He shut the door and locked it, using his cane to pick up Matt’s bag and toss it to him. “Pack up, we need to go.”

“Where are we going?” Matt asked, feigning innocence as he stood, holding his bag close.

“New York, I’m taking you home.”

“Home?”

“We’re done.” He dropped his own bag on the bed with an irritated whump , Matt had to keep from flinching. “I’m taking you back. You’re not ready for what’s to come.”

“What’s happening?” the boy continued, frowning in worry as he began to gather his things.

“Nothing you need to worry about now, or ever,” Stick snapped. “Drop it, kid, do what you’re told.”

Matt swallowed hard and followed his orders, packing up all his worldly belongings into the one bag they fit into. As he did so, he felt something in the bottom of the bag.

Well… Now or never.

Hesitant, he pulled it out and walked over to Stick. “There’s, something I’ve been meaning to give you.”

“What?” he asked, flat, frustrated as he held out a hand for it.

Matt very carefully handed him the bracelet, braided from strips of leather, small charms from other hunters, no, other exorcists looped onto the threads. It jingled softly, and Matt tried to smile. “If you’re going to fight a bunch of demons, you, could use a little extra protection right?”

He heard the charms clack together as Stick closed his hand around it.

And he flinched again when Stick threw it aside, making it land with a soft sound. “A stupid little charm bracelet won’t help against the things I’m going up against. Finish packing.”

Even now it stung, and Matt had to take a steadying breath as the memory faded away. From the pocket of his coat, he pulled the small charm bracelet out, tracing his thumb over one of the small silver loops and the smooth leather. He held it out to Foggy, who paused pulling on his coat and frowned. “What’s that?”

“It’s, a good luck charm,” Matt lied easily. “Since you two are going to the cops to report the whole kidnapping thing, I, figured you need it more than I do. The charms are all supposed to be protective runes.”

“It’s cute,” Karen remarked, sitting up a bit straighter in her wheelchair to get a look at it. “Where’d you get it?”

“I, made it for a friend, a long time ago.” He placed it into Foggy’s palm, “I want you to have it, okay? I can handle demons, I’d rather you be safer.”

It didn’t escape his notice how Foggy’s heartbeat picked up a little, his hand closing slowly over the charms as he nodded. “Thanks, Matt. That’s, really sweet dude, I’m getting kind of choked up here.”

Matt just rolled his eyes, despite his smile. 

Foggy would make better use of the charms than Stick probably ever would, and besides Matt was part demon, he didn’t need magic charms to keep him safe. He was just going to the church to tell them what went down, it’d be fine.

He could totally handle any cultists who came looking for trouble.

If he caught them in the act, of course. Matt, for all his skills, was still blind, and couldn’t see the strangers waiting in a car across the road from the little house. As he said goodbye to his friends for the day, those strangers made a decision.

If they could not have the angel, they would destroy the demon that had stolen her away.

Chapter Text

Even if you were completely human, being inside a ceremonial circle of any kind meant bad things were coming. It could be anything, an exorcism, a possession, opening a portal to hell, human sacrifice, the point is nothing good happens inside a chalk circle. 

The only reason Matt knew he had been thrown inside one was the flaky, powdery feeling of the sigils under his hand as he woke. Soft voices mumbled around him, slowly becoming clearer as his senses swam back into focus, the faint sting of the needle fading from where they’d jabbed him in the neck. The smell of this place, it was familiar, incense and concrete and cheap fabric, he’d been here before.

This… this was the chapel of that place, that cult, the ones that’d kidnapped Karen! But that meant…

With a groan, he tried to push himself up, listening as the cultists went quiet around him. The assholes took his glasses, and his bag, and his cane, god he hoped he wouldn’t have to replace those again . He could feel their eyes on him, waiting to see what he’d do, his best bet would be to play innocent. Even if they’d seen him, if he could get them to doubt he was a demon, he might be able to escape.

One of them walked closer, and her voice sounded cold. “We are truly lucky, demon. This ritual should finally rid the world of your hideous lie, and allow us to bring our heaven on earth home at last.”

Matt swallowed hard, “I-I’m not a demon. Please! I-I’m an exorcist, I have been my whole life!”

The speaker smirked, drumming her fingertips against the leather cover of the book she held in one arm. “We saw what you were, demon, when you took her from us. We know your lie better than most in this cesspool of a city. But by all means, if you’re only human, exit the circle.”

Fuck, she was smart, she knew her shit. Matt wouldn’t be able to leave without breaking the outer ring of the circle, and he wouldn’t be able to get his hands close enough to scuff it without burning. (It brought back memories of that basement, of trying to escape)

He drew himself up a little straighter, dropping the scared and innocent act. Maybe he could appeal to logic then, if emotion wasn’t going to work. “Okay, okay fine, you’re right, I’m some kind of demon. But I’m not like the others, I was human first, I am human.”

A chuckle rippled through the gathered cultists and the speaker sighed. “It matters not. You are a demon now, whatever humanity you had is long dead.”

When she opened the old book in her hands, Matt’s heart skipped a beat. “No, no it’s not dead, I’m still human! If I wasn’t, I couldn’t survive my own exorcisms, I couldn’t be in this place!”

“We’ve had enough of your lies,” the speaker said, anger creeping into her voice. Her followers began to gather around the circle, all of their hearts steady and calm, with complete faith in their leader, and no idea what would happen if they did this.

He… he had to warn them! “Stop, don’t do this! It’s going to end badly, if I lose control-”

“Don’t listen to him, my children.” She raised her voice, as if to drown him out. “Let us begin, let us heal New York of yet another festering wound.”

She began to read from the book, and Matt instantly recognized a prayer that Stick had taught him a long time ago, and later one he’d made a copy of for Foggy. True any words could become an exorcism, but some words carried thousands of years of faith in them, they worked fast.

And they burned.

Matt couldn’t help covering his ears, squeezing his eyes shut and curling up in on himself, gritting his teeth as he felt the words start to dig under his skin. No, no not again, he wouldn’t let them do this to him again. He had to fight it, he could fight it, he had to fight it. It had been years since the basement, he’d gotten stronger.

So had the devil inside him.

Outside, a beaten car pulled to a stop outside the ugly little building and Foggy couldn’t help scowling. “And here I was hoping I’d never see this place again.”

“This is where they held me?” Karen asked, leaning over against his shoulder to look out the window.

“Yeah, and it’s where those fuckers took Matt.” He aggressively unclipped his belt and practically ripped the key out of the ignition. “Look, I know you’re aching today, I can handle this myself, you should be safe out here.” 

The hurt and insulted look on Karen’s face immediately made him regret it. “Excuse me? Absolutely not! I may be limping right now but I’m not about to let them exorcize my friend! Besides, they might listen to me, especially if I pull out the wings.”

“Doesn’t the change hurt you?”

“I’ll, probably be bed bound tomorrow but again- it’s to help Matt.”

“Right, right. Come on.”

With Karen leaning on Foggy’s arm, they got out of the car and hurried up to the front door, trying it and surprisingly finding it unlocked. Carefully, they eased it open and peered inside, where ominous monotonous humming was coming from, led by a voice speaking in, was that latin?

And below it all, the slight smell of sulfur, and a sound like growling.

They’d wanted a demon, and now they had it. 

“Intruders!” one of the cultists called, breaking the chant.

“Our Angel!” the speaker gasped, covering her mouth. “Quick! Get them before she can get away again!”

“Now?” Foggy asked, taking a nervous step back.

Karen’s mouth twisted into a snarl, “Now.”

He let go of her, watching in awe and terror as in a moment she changed, slamming one of the charging cultists with a wing and sending them flying. Foggy turned, shoving the door shut again and throwing the locks, having to duck as one of the followers made it past Karen, charging him with a knife. It sank into the wood of the front door as he moved back, heart pounding. 

Shit shit he couldn’t fight! He didn’t have powers and had never taken a self defense class! Foggy had always been the bullied kid, not the one picking fights!

Again the growling sound caught his ear, though it sounded more like a whine this time, and he glanced towards the center of the chapel. There! Up at the front! Matt was kneeling on the ground, full demon form, and he looked hurt, hurt and angry and smoking softly.

If Foggy could just get over there-

He let out a little panicked noise and ducked another knife swing, making a break for it, clumsily shimmying through the lines of chairs and having to dodge when Karen launched someone else into the rows that stood in place of pews. Despite the very wise little voice in the back of his head warning him to stay away, he jumped over the last folding chairs and skid to a stop by the circle.

Matt glanced up slightly, but didn’t look towards Foggy. He was breathing heavily, his tail lashing side to side, wings twitching in pain where they’d tore free, still sticky with blood and sinew… 

“Don’t- you’ll release him!” the speaker ordered, pointing dangerously at Foggy.

He couldn’t help scowling, “That’s kind of the idea lady.”

And he knelt quickly scrubbing at the chalk with his sleeve until the air around them seemed to pop like high altitude. He saw Matt twitch and- in a flash of red- the demon was gone. Staggering back to his feet, Foggy got the distinct feeling he’d majorly fucked up as the temperature in the room seemed to jump up dramatically, making sweat start to prickle around his collar.

“What have you done?” the speaker snarled, holding her book protectively to her chest.

Foggy tried to stammer an answer, startling again as Karen appeared protectively at his side, putting a defensive arm in front of him. (Holy shit his friends were so cool) 

Likewise, the cultists gathered around their speaker, those that could still stand anyway, but they got quiet when a deep growling filled the room. Foggy felt his chest get tight with fear and he couldn’t help wondering, with more than a little terror, where the hell Matt went.

Carefully, he looked around the room, trying to spot him, only for his heart to sink into his stomach. Deep fresh scratches crawled their way up one of the walls into a corner, into a dimly lit spot where the shadows had gathered and where unfocused golden eyes seemed to look down at them like prey. Karen followed his gaze and pulled Foggy close, tugging him away, clearly equally frightened.

Because that wasn’t Matt anymore.

One of the cultists followed their gaze upwards and screamed, their voice echoing off the wooden floor and smooth walls, filling the space.

Making them a perfect target.

The demon sprung with unnatural speed, the cultists scattering as the screamer was taken down to the ground with a wham and the sick sound of claws tearing through fabric. Before Foggy could protest, Karen dragged him into a corner far from the chaos, pulling him close and attempting to hide them with her wings. Maybe, maybe if they stayed quiet, out of the way, it wouldn’t notice them.

That didn’t make the screaming stop, or the sound of bones snapping and bodies being flung.

The demon was out and it was not about to let some two-bit cultists send it back.

And then… quiet.

Mostly quiet, a few of the injured kidnappers still groaned in pain where they lay, but it seemed the demon had stopped, its work finished. Hesitant, terrified even, Karen lifted one of her wings, that she and Foggy might see if the coast was clear.

Standing at the center of the room, his clothing coming apart at the seams, his hands soaked with crimson and shoulders hunched, the demon caught its breath. Blood covered his mouth, not from a bite no, but from a nosebleed, and still it dripped down his chin.

Slowly, Foggy started to get to his feet and Karen snagged his sleeve. “Foggy no! We don’t know what it’s going to-”

Its head snapped towards them, head tilted to the side, listening intently. Karen covered her mouth with her free hand and Foggy tugged himself free. “No, no Matt’s in there somewhere, he wouldn’t hurt us, he wouldn’t hurt me.”

“B-Be careful,” she whispered, watching with wide eyes as he slowly, carefully, began to move closer to the demon.

“Matt?” he began, keeping his voice low, gentle. The demon tilted its head a little further, tail flicking side to side, just the softest look of recognition on its face.

Foggy swallowed, glancing back at Karen again, who had gotten to her feet and seemed to be trying to calm back down. He took a steadying breath of his own, and tried again, hesitantly raising a hand. The charms on the little bracelet Matt had given him chimed softly. “Hey, hey Matt, i-it’s okay. We’re okay now.”

It just stared at him, expression impossible to read as he crept closer, but its wings did relax, folding up against his back, at ease. Foggy was able to walk right up to it, though he tried not to think about the unconscious, bleeding person he had to step over to get there. “Hey buddy, it’s okay, you can come down now, they’re not going to hurt us now.”

Trying to keep his hand from trembling, Foggy reached out to take his friend’s cheek, and it surprised him that the demon actually leaned into his hand, eyes closing and finally seeming to relax. He exhaled slowly, “Yeah, yeah you did good bud. Come on, it’s time to go home, Matt.”

He could only nod weakly, senses coming back in scraps and flashes, taking hold of Foggy’s sleeve with both hands so his friend could lead him out. He jumped just slightly when Karen came to his other side, putting a hand on his arm before pulling him into a hug Foggy quickly joined. Slowly, with shaking hands, Matt put his arms around his friends and hugged them tight, clinging to them, to what they meant.

It was over, it was time to go home.

The cult had put Matt’s stuff into a cardboard box and dropped it out by the dumpsters behind the building. Karen, clever as she was, spotted it as they were sneaking out, sirens already getting closer to the brutal scene inside. Barely, just barely, they managed to get Matt into the car and out of the crime scene before the first cop car skidded around the corner chasing the ambulance. 

Matt didn’t speak until they were pulling up to the house, by then his demonic features had mostly melted away and he seemed calm. That, of course, was a lie because he wanted to find a tall building and see how long it took to hit the ground but he couldn’t do that to his friends, not to Karen and Foggy. They had saved him, he would be alright, it’d all be alright. He’d be okay.

“Did…” His voice cracked, failing him, and he had to try again, scrubbing uselessly at his mouth and nose. “What did, what did I do to them?”

The leather of the steering wheel creaked a little under Karen’s grip, a mix of anger at what those brutes had done, and fear at the answer. “You… dealt with them.”

Matt fought a small, slightly hysterical laugh. “I killed them all, didn’t I? It killed them.”

“No, no Matt-” she turned in the driver’s seat, reaching out to take his hand. “They weren’t dead, you didn’t, you didn’t kill them all.”

He struggled to answer, and it only got harder when Foggy scooted closer in the back seat and silently pulled him into a hug, giving him a place to bury his face as he fought a sob. “I don’t want to be a monster-”

Foggy waited until Karen had joined them in the back seat to speak up. “No, no Matt you’re not a monster, they forced you into that. It wasn’t your fault.”

Matt just nodded weakly, relaxing a little more when Karen hugged him too. 

They stayed in the back of the car until he finally got his breath back, until he managed to get the tears to stop. But his friends didn’t go anywhere, even with the heartbreaking sound, even with being unable to offer more than soft words of comfort, even if he was getting blood all over them both. God what would he do without them?

“Thank you,” Matt finally managed, clearing his throat weakly. “Thank you for, for coming to find me. I don’t, I think if they’d succeeded, I’d have been killed, replaced by that thing… ”

“Of course, Matt,” Karen said, shifting to rest her head against his shoulder. “I just, wish we’d gotten there sooner.”

“How long was I gone?”

“Not long, we saw ‘em snatch you and came as soon as we could,” Foggy answered, helping Matt to sit up a bit straighter. “Couldn’t let that fly.”

“It was literally the same people I’d seen at the cult,” Karen added with a little shrug. “They were… definitely bold, I’ll give them that.”

“Hopefully, hopefully now they get the message,” Matt hummed weakly, finally managing to let go, folding his arms up nervously. “I should’ve, paid better attention…”

“Matt, dude, cut yourself some slack man,” Foggy insisted, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You may have super powers but you’re still blind and we’re supposed to be a team and I let you down. This wasn’t your fault.”

He gave a thin smile, “Thanks, Fogs.”

“Of course. Now more importantly, I’ve decided I’m going to order us a pizza and we’re just staying home today, no exceptions.” He waved a finger like a scolding teacher and Karen fought a snicker, covering her mouth.

Matt nodded, smiling a little wider, “Yeah, that sounds, really nice actually…” Then he chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m spending so much time at your house I should just move in.”

“Well… we do have a spare room, and it’d help with rent,” Karen said, giving him a nudge.

He blinked, seeming surprised. “Wait really? You, wouldn’t mind? After all the trouble I caused?”

“Not at all, Matt.”

Foggy’s whole face lit up with a smile, “Oh this is going to be awesome! It’ll be like old times but even better because now we have actual money! Kind of. We have more money than we did.”

And that finally broke through, making Matt actually laugh, actually smile.

Demon or not, there was a place for him, here, with his friends, with people who cared and who tried to understand. It would be more comfortable here, anyway, no need to hide or pretend, and together they could keep each other safe.

Slowly, still aching from the fight, Matt followed his friends inside, still holding onto Foggy’s sleeve as a lead.

Chapter Text

Winter came gentle, each morning a little more chill as Autumn left New York.

Most of the cult had survived, though when clear evidence of kidnapping had been found in their back room, they were also mostly arrested, with a few of the less active members being let go. At least, that’s what the newspapers were saying, particularly this morning as the trial was set to begin.

“Remind me who thought it was a good idea to get a table outside so I can skewer him,” Matt grumbled, pulling his coat tighter around himself, burying into his scarf as his breath fogged up in the air.

“It’s not my fault the entire cafe was full,” Foggy countered before aggressively taking a bite of the pancakes he’d ordered.

Karen glanced up at him over the paper she’d been reading, before slowly folding it up and setting it in her lap. Really she was already running low on energy, having had to calm down a frightened young woman who they’d dragged out of the closet where her possessed fiance had locked her two days ago and the bickering was not helping. “This was the closest open restaurant serving breakfast to the patient and Foggy did insist so… Kind of your fault, Fogs.”

“You’re both fired,” he countered, pouting and gesturing with his fork, making Karen grin playfully.

“In that case, good luck handling the other case completely solo,” Matt said with a confident grin, nudging Foggy with his foot. “And every single other one that’s going to pop up this week.”

Foggy nodded a little, suddenly becoming serious. “So you’ve been noticing it too?”

“How could I miss it?” he countered, pulling his scarf up over his nose. 

Karen couldn’t help pouting, she’d been catching on fast with this whole exorcist thing but sometimes she still felt like a third wheel, like she was just behind them. “No-noticing what? What have you guys noticed?”

“Demonic possessions have been on the rise, I haven’t been this busy since, well ever,” Matt explained, nodding his head side to side. “There’s a slight sulfur smell almost everywhere now and it’s… bothering me.”

“Okay well, that means it can’t be that moon thing you mentioned,” Karen hummed, putting her paper on the table and sitting up a bit more. “So… it’s got to be something else right?”

Foggy tapped his fork a few times again, gave up and set it down so he stopped fidgeting with it. “That’s uh, that’s not the only thing either.”

“What do you mean?” Matt frowned, looking more than a little worried for his friend.

“I uh…” Foggy hesitated until Karen put a hand on his arm, trying to be encouraging but also concerned. “Just, it’s stupid but, I keep seeing things. People in the streets and their faces going all wonky and evil looking before they go back to normal.”

“Like you’re seeing the demon itself,” Matt mumbled, scowling. “That’s, bad. ”

“Why? What does it mean if Foggy’s started seeing them? Doesn’t that, make them easier to find?” Karen asked, looking between them, trying to be optimistic.

Matt’s hand on the table tapped twice, slow and thoughtful. “It means, the walls between our world and hell are getting weaker, things are slipping through and into the city.”

Foggy groaned and sat back in his chair with a huff, “Great! Great. Does this mean we’re going to be fighting Lucifer at some point because if that’s the case, I’m out.”

“No, no there’s got to be a human element to this.” Matt ran a hand through his hair, nodding. “Someone’s bringing demons into New York, and the portal is weakening the veil. If they’re not stopped, this whole city is going to be crawling with demons and no one will be left to fight them.”

“So… what do we do?” asked Karen, nervously folding her arms.

“We keep fighting, keep looking, keep asking questions. The three of us are a good team, but if we can’t handle it, well… We’re not the only fighters out there. If something is calling demons to New York, you can bet someone else is going to answer too.”