Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I can tell you’re trying not to laugh, Foggy.”

“Sorry! It’s just-“

“It’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

“I have horns, Fogg- Stop laughing!”

 Matt had woken up with horns. Like, on his literal head. He’d gone to bed with them, actually, thinking back, but he’d been feeling sort of sick and was so exhausted that he collapsed face-first into bed after he stripped off his Daredevil outfit. He chalked the sore forehead up to a mild head wound he’d patch up in the morning. Morning had brought Foggy coming into Matt’s apartment with coffee and breakfast sandwiches (arugula and turkey for Matt, cheese, sausage, bacon and God knows what else for Foggy. Matt could smell it before Foggy even got in the building). It had also bought Foggy poking and prodding at Matt’s forehead. 

“Uhh... new costume, buddy?”

“What?” Matt dodged around Foggy, attempting to at least get a t-shirt on.

“I asked if you had a new costume. You know, if you start leaving the top of your face exposed after leaving the bottom of it out for so long, people are going to be able to piece your face together.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Matt said from inside his shirt. It kept getting caught on something. 

“The horns, Matt.”

Matt emerged from the shirt, “What horns?”

Foggy walked forward and poked Matt’s forehead with two fingers. “These ones?”

“What?!”

That’s when the (first bout of) laughter had started. 

“Maybe they’re just... stuck on?” Matt had said desperately after Foggy had collected himself. He didn’t really want to touch them. Maybe if he didn’t accept them as part of reality, they’d vanish as suddenly as they appeared.

“They look pretty... part-of-your-skull-y, Matt.”

Matt sat down at his kitchen table, almost buried his head in his hands before he remembered he didn’t want to touch anything. He settled for slouching and feeling lost at sea. Okay. Deep breath. “What do they look like?”

“I mean, they’re not crazy. They’re like the ones on your mask. Red. Kinda ... dinky?”

Matt had no idea how to feel about that descriptor. Foggy had stood up and walked into Matt’s bedroom again. “Where is your mask, anyway?”

“Floor...”

After a minute, Foggy walked back in.

“Well... that’s weird.”

“Oh, what now?” Matt said, miserably.

“There’s holes in your mask where your ho-“

“Where THE horns, please.”

“Okay, where THE horns go. Holes.” 

Foggy pressed the mask into Matt’s hands and yep. Holes. Like he’d stripped the mask off and left the horns behind. 

“Okay. Okay, clearly, I... suffered some bleeding head wound and... I guess the horn bits got stuck to my forehead, somehow.”

That is not how Matt’s mask worked and he knew it and Foggy knew it and okay he was laughing again.

“I mean it, stop laughing, this is not funny.”

“Okay, sorry, sorry! Let me just...” Foggy pushed the heel of his hand up against one of the horns and tried to push at it. He only succeeded in wrenching Matt’s head around a little.

“Yeah, like I said, they’re... in there.” 

“Okay. Fine.”

Matt stood up suddenly and walked purposely over to the kitchen, pulled a drawer open and felt around for a steak knife. “We just cut them off my head.”

“I am absolutely not performing bone-surgery on you in your kitchen, Matt.” 

“Fine. I’ll do it myself.”

“Matt, no!”

Foggy stood suddenly, sending the chair to the floor with a clatter. Matt pressed the edge of the knife to the edge of the horn and accomplished absolutely nothing. Shit, these things were hard as rocks. Foggy stopped in his tracks. Matt tried to wrench and pry and... nope. Nothing. God and now he’d touched the fucking thing and they were real and weirdly sharp and stuck in his skull, apparently. Matt put the knife down. Son of a bitch.

“Okay, let’s calm down.” Foggy said, breathing a sigh of relief and righting the chair, “I brought coffee and breakfast. So, deep breath... let’s figure this out.”

Foggy shook the bag of sandwiches and Matt made his way over to the table. 

Matt ate in sulky silence and Foggy ate in edge-of-laughter... loudness. Foggy was Matt’s best friend but he did have times he wanted to huck Foggy out the window and this was one of those times. Foggy was listing possible explanations for his “ horny problem ”.

“Do not call it that or I swear, I will-“

“Headbutt me and try and get me gored? Not with those things, Matty. They’re dinky.” Foggy said around a mouthful of various meats and cheeses.

“What about... whasisname? Mosist? Mophit?”

“Mephisto. And no, Spider-man’s said he’s dramatic, I think he’d probably have popped up and cursed me publicly.”

“Mhm, mhm... what about... oh! Loki. He does shit like this.”

“He’s ... I think he’s good now? Or at least not evil, I don’t know.”

“Hm. I guess most of these villains are, like... big shots, right? More concerned with the multiverse than Midtown-west. You’re more... big fish, small pond, right?”

“I prefer to think of myself as ‘ street-level ’.”

Foggy took a sip of coffee. “Do you remember anything unusual from last night? Didn’t accidentally kick Scarlet Witch off a roof or land in a glowing pentagram?” Said Foggy, “You’re not possessed again, right?” He added in a low voice.

“No, I’m not possessed again.” Matt said, poking at his sandwich. He was pretty sure he wasn’t possessed. He hadn’t had any weird ideas about building an evil ninja temple in the middle of Hell’s Kitchen anyway. There must have been something he was forgetting.

Like on cue, a car outside backfired and Foggy and Matt both jumped. 

“Just a car.”

“I didn’t even know cars could still do that.”

“These days, it’s more likely to be a gunshot, unfortuna-“

That was it.

“Shit.”

“What?”

“I think,” Matt said, slowly, “There might have been a kid? There was a guy in an alley with a gun, he took a shot at me. I jumped down on him and knocked him out, but when I did, this kid was at the window and I think they saw me.”

Matt was starting to piece it together, the rapid, panicking heartbeat of a frightened child and a horrible scream and then, Matt remembered, a wave of strange energy vibrating through him. He’d almost thrown up, his balance was so suddenly off-kilter.

“I think that’s when my head started to feel...”

“Horny?”

“Stop.”

“So, what, you think you scared a kid so bad you got horns?” 

“It’s possible, Mutants get all sorts of weird, reality warping powers.” Matt said, sitting back, “And if the ‘Devil of Hell’s Kitchen’ showed up outside his window, the kid might have taken it literally.”

“Oh.” Said Foggy, “Well, mystery solved? Just gotta go find the kid and explain to him you’re not really the devil, it’s just a stupid getup and crisis averted.”

Matt nodded, feeling a little better. His next thought would have been to call Dr. Strange but good lord did Matt hate having to ask Strange for a favor. It always came with a 45 minute lecture on philosophy and Matt’d had enough of that in law school. 

After three hours of wandering the same two block radius, though, Matt was reconsidering Strange after all. 

“Are you sure it was around here, Matt?”

“Yes! I can smell the river and I remember that specific dumpster because there’s about nine possums living in it.”

Matt scratched irritably at his forehead. He’d fit an unseasonable (and itchy) woolen beanie over his head and, in order to blend in as a simple hipster, one of Foggy’s uglier coats. He was so sure the alley had been around here but whenever he thought he had a lock on it, he got turned around somehow. 

“Maybe the kid is hiding from the devil?” Foggy said in what Matt thought was an unhelpfully chipper tone. Matt grunted and sat heavily down on the sofa. They’d decided to retreat back to Matt’s apartment when people started to flood the streets for weekend brunch and Foggy pointed out one of Matt’s horns had ripped through the wool. Plus, Matt had got another wave of dizziness and Foggy thought maybe that was head trauma, not magic.

“Great.”

“Maybe it’ll be easier to find from the rooftops? Try going out tonight and finding the kid? I mean, the mask will fit over your... growths.” Foggy was really good at finding the absolute worst way of describing things sometimes. “Or, you know, give Dr. Strange a call after all?”

Matt lay back on the couch, in full feeling-sorry-for-himself mode. “I guess...” he said, with a sigh. 

“Okay. Well... I gotta get going, Matt. Not that I don’t think this’ll clear up by Monday, but uh, let’s maybe make plans to work-from-home this week?”

Matt just rolled over into the couch and made an unintelligible noise of assent.

“Great. Well, see you later, buddy.” Foggy said and he left the apartment.

Chapter Text

Dr. Strange was “out-of-the-office slash out-of-the-universe for the next month” according to his very disorienting voicemail. Matt was pretty sure a hologram popped up. He’d left the message of “Please help, I have horns for some reason. Like on my face. My real face, not my mask. Okay. Bye. Please help.” But didn’t have much hope of hearing back. Horns for the next month, if not longer. What a nightmare.

Matt anxiously waited for night to fall. He couldn’t really go out and do any errands, so he settled himself in front of his computer to pick at cases. A couple of teens who broke into their friend’s house for a prank, somebody suing Danny because he’d punched a guy through their car window, nothing too exciting. Matt felt extremely unsettled. Waves of nausea kept hitting him and it was just making him more wound-up. He drummed his fingers, pushed the computer away, started pacing, then sat down and went back to the computer. He wasn’t about to let himself dwell on God and damnation right now. This was mutants or magic, not God punishing him. This was, more than likely, a scared kid with powers they didn’t understand, taking it out on the scary man they must have thought responsible for the gunshot. He was probably going to need to skip Sunday mass tomorrow though. Showing up in costume in the middle of the night was one thing, showing up Sunday morning with devil horns was another.

Finally, finally it was late enough for Matt to go roaming the rooftops. He was itching for a fight, full of pent up energy and anger at yet another stupid situation he’d gotten himself into. But he needed to find that kid’s apartment first. 

He tried to retrace last night in his head. Pizza place, bodega, bodega that was an unlicensed bakery, Thai place, bad pizza place, good pizza place that sold weed out the back, nine-possum-dumpster and... it was gone. His head was spinning. Shit, maybe the kid really was hiding from him. He wouldn’t blame them, either, to be honest. Matt had been scared of the devil as a kid too and back then, the devil wasn’t literally running around on rooftops. 

He didn’t have much time for reminiscing, though, there was shouting at the bodega/illegal bakery, followed by the distinct clicking of several guns. Matt sprinted in the direction of the shop, vaulting over gaps between the rooftops. 

The robbers were already halfway out the door. Three of them. Two with guns, one carrying a black duffle-bag. They turned a corner into an alley. 

Clunk!

One of them looked up at the noise, but after a hollow thud of a baton whacking him in the face, he hit the ground. Matt leapt down from his perch.

“Shit! Daredevil!”

The one with the bag started running, the one still up with a gun started firing. Matt dived under the shots. This guy was an amateur, his hand was shaking as he fired. Too slow. Matt tackled him to the ground, punched him once, then raced off after the first one. He’d almost caught him -shit! Another wave of that sick, dizzy feeling just about knocked him down. Matt shook his head. God, maybe it was head-trauma. He started running again after the escaping robber. He was running fast, ducking through the alleys, but Matt knew them better and could hear any weird turns he made. He took a shortcut over a fence and m, lucky break, the robber was sprinting by him. Matt reached out and caught the bag by the strap, yanking the guy back by the shoulder and slamming him against the wall. 

“Don’t think that’s yours.” He said with a growl. The robber just whimpered. 

“Nothing to say?! Really? Just terrorizing a neighborhood and you got nothing to say about it?”

Matt could feel himself getting angrier. It had been a bad day. Magic horseshit, unhelpful sorcerers and now, an armed robbery? These clowns were the ones who made Hell’s Kitchen need a devil! These guys were the ones scaring kids and Daredevil was the one the kids were scared of? What kind of bullsh- oh, fuck, the guy’s on the floor . Matt hadn’t even realized he’d been hitting him. The robber was alive but Matt had clearly done more damage than he’d meant to do. Matt pulled himself together and grabbed the duffle bag, leaving the robber face-down in the alley. 

The bodega was extremely thankful to Matt for returning their stolen money. He turned down their offer of free croissants for looking the other way on the bakery, he could smell the health code violations. That wasn’t the kind of law Daredevil cared about, he told them, then took off into the night. 

The sick feeling kept hitting on and off throughout the night and Matt was grateful to finally be able to crawl into bed. He felt sore all over. Just what he needed, horns and the flu. Peeling off the armor and mask, he stumbled his way into the bathroom. Sore and overheated from the Daredevil outfit, Matt ran the water in the sink, wet a washcloth and pressed it, icy cold to his face. What a relief. He breathed in the cool, damp air and rubbed the cloth up his face, over the stupid horns and over his hair... wait. Matt dropped the cloth in the sink and, forcing down the anxious feeling whenever he touched them, reached up and felt his horns. Foggy had described them as dinky. These felt... differently than they had this morning. Way more than dinky. Matt took a deep breath. Then another wave of nausea hit and he threw up in the sink. 

Mother fucker , they were getting bigger.

—

“Yeah, they’re definitely bigger.” Foggy said the next morning. Matt had left him like twelve voicemails starting at 7am, which was at least 3 hours earlier than Foggy ever got up on a weekend under normal circumstances. 

“I wish you’d be less blasé about this.” Matt grumbled. 

“I’m not really that surprised, I guess. It’s never just one thing, right? You’re sure you’re not possessed?”

“ Yes , Foggy, I’m sure!” Matt snarled, more forcefully than he’d meant. “I... I’m okay, I’m not... missing any time or anything like that, I’m just...” he gestured up to his forehead. Definitely bigger, sharper, like 3 inches long, Foggy had said. Red at the base, black at the top. 

“Alright, alright,” Foggy said, backing off, “You called Dr. Strange, right?”

Matt nodded. “Yeah, he’s ‘out of the universe’ for a few weeks... So, either I figure this out or wait till he gets back or... I don’t really want to imagine how much worse these things are gonna get.” 

“Yeah, or anything else.”

Matt paused, “What... anything else? Is there something else?” Foggy’s heartbeat sped up.

“Well,” Foggy said, a bit delicately, “You did just kind of no-shit growl at me a minute ago?” 

“I... sorry, I’m just kind of freaking out...”

“Yeah, no, I know, it’s fine, but I mean... You like, literally snarled at me. Like a dog. Like I thought you were going to bite me. It was not a people noise.”

“I... did?” Matt hadn’t even noticed. “Shit.” Matt dropped his head dramatically on the table, his horns clunked loudly on the wood. He couldn’t even sulk properly.

Foggy patted him on the back, “It’s gonna be okay, Matty. Just gotta keep it together, right?”

Matt nodded without lifting his head. 

“Great.” Said Foggy, “Why don’t we head down to that gross, abandoned gym you like? Get rid of some of the... growly energy?”

Matt nodded again. Foggy somehow dragged him to his feet, stuck two hats on him and dragged him out the door.  

-

Foggy watched Matt go absolutely wild on the punching bag. He was glad to have gotten Matt out of the house but he’d regretted it as soon as they’d hit the street. Not even because of the horns, which Foggy had to admit, were pretty bad, but because when he’d touched Matt’s bare skin for a moment, he realized Matt must have a fever. Devil flu or something. This kid, whoever and wherever they were, clearly had some ideas about the devil. Horns for sure, maybe something with fire (god he did not want Matt to be able to breath fire), growling... This was going to get worse before it got better.

Foggy squinted at Matt as he paused his assault on the punching bag and grasped on to it for support, pressing his eyes closed tightly and gritting his teeth. Matt had told Foggy about the nausea spells, which worried Foggy, but it wasn’t like telling Matt to take it easy was going to help. It would just make Matt more insistent on doing something stupid. Matt breathed heavily, resting his head against the gently swinging bag and... no way. Foggy stared at the horns. They were getting worse. Foggy could see them growing and twisting slightly before his eyes, like a time lapse of a plant growing. After another inch, they stopped. Matt opened his eyes and Foggy felt his stomach drop into his shoes. Those were not Matt’s eyes. They were fucking red . Literal red, with strange slit pupils. 

Shit shit shit shit.

“Foggy? What’s the matter?”

“No, uh, nothing, just checking Facebook. Got a jumpscare video, oh no.”

Matt cocked his head, “Man, you know you can’t lie to me. What is it?”

“I’m just... worried about you. You said you threw up in the sink.”

“I’m fine, it’s just .. it’s nothing.”

“I’m not sure you are fine, dude.”

Matt took a step forward, towards Foggy. “Wouldn’t I know? Or let me guess, you think I’m possessed again. I’m not, alright?” Matt’s voice had taken on a distinct, angry, anImal growl, “This is just some little kid magic crap! It’s nothing !” 

Then Matt stumbled and Foggy jumped up to grab him. Matt panted and his skin was far too hot to the touch to be a fever. The horns twisted and grew more, wider at the base than before, smaller, sharp spikes beginning to emerge along a ridge. Even his ears were shifting, the cartilage stretching to a point. Foggy felt sick. A moment later, Matt recovered, breathing heavily. 

“Matty...?” Foggy said, appeasingly.

“Sorry Fogs... for that.”

“I think you maybe have the flu, man. On top of ... why don’t we get you back to your place, you have a rest, huh?”

Matt nodded and stood up straight. He let Foggy stick his hats back on, thankfully, because Foggy really didn’t want to tell Matt that the fucking horns had both doubled in length and doubled in horror since this morning, never mind the eyes or ears. 

“Listen, I know I can’t tell you what to do, because you do whatever you want anyway...” Foggy said when they got back to Matt’s apartment, “But maybe... give the devil Sunday off?”

“..Maybe, Foggy.” 

Foggy gave Matt one last pat on the shoulder and set off down the hall. He didn’t know much about magic or mutants, but he at least had reinforcements when it came to dealing with the Daredevil. 

Chapter Text

Matt knew Foggy was hiding something. He’d never been good at hiding things and Matt suspected even if he couldn’t hear Foggy’s heartbeat, he’d have been able to tell. But Foggy had seemed distressed and Matt didn’t want to lose his temper again, so he’d put it aside. 

Still, this whole.... situation was probably much worse than Matt thought.

He tried to distract himself. Sunday afternoon television was awful, though, and work was just making him more anxious and wound up, worrying about actually stopping whatever this was before he actually had to do something in-person . He supposed he should count himself lucky this hadn’t manifested mid-opening argument or in a meeting with a client or something.

Why had Foggy told him to take tonight off? He didn’t think people got enough of a look at him to notice the difference of a few inches of horns. Matt guessed it wasn’t crazy for Foggy to be worried about him, he’d felt awful at the gym. Usually, a workout put him in a better mood, but today he’d just felt crabbier the longer he’d gone. He’d snapped at Foggy and had apologized, but... it seemed like he wasn’t willing to listen that this wasn’t the Hand messing with his head or... soul or whatever. Regardless of how bad he’d been feeling at the gym, though, he felt better now... Well, physically better. Still deeply freaked out and if Matt was being honest with himself, he half-wished he’d asked Foggy to stick around. It would have at least made it easier to distract himself. But then he’d be driving himself mad with guilt over ruining his best friend’s weekend even further with his stupid Daredevil drama yet again. 

Still, Matt toyed with the idea of maybe just texting Foggy to ... he didn’t know, have a conversation about literally anything. Before he could actually make a decision though, something on the edge of his hearing... somebody was on the roof and approaching the door down to the penthouse. 

Matt froze and listened carefully. Whoever was up there wasn’t sneaking around, they didn’t care if they were heard. Two people, one larger than the other. Matt tried to focus in, see what else he could detect... 

Knock-knock!

The door at the top of the stairs creaked open. 

“Matt? You here?”

“...Danny?”

Danny fully opened the door and started down the stairs, “Hey man!”

Luke followed Danny down the stairs. Matt had the distinct urge to crawl under his bed. Foggy was one thing, but Matt disliked this level of vulnerability in front of anybody else. Maybe he should put the mask on. Too late though, Danny and Luke had both reached the bottom of the stairs and were taking a moment to react to whatever it was they were seeing. Maybe it wasn’t too late to crawl under the bed and hide from everyone forever.

“What, uh... brings you two here? Without calling first.” Matt asked, determined to ignore the noise of Luke absolutely making a “yikes” face at Danny.

“Your friend, uh, Froggy-“ Luke said, shifting a little awkwardly. 

“Foggy.” 

“Right, Foggy.... he said maybe you, uh...”

Matt scowled, “Needed a babysitter?”

“Not... exactly.” Luke said. 

“Yeah, basically.” Danny said at the exact same time. 

Danny and Luke seemed determined to either make this as either the least or the most awkward they could make the afternoon. For Danny, this meant raiding Matt’s admittedly understocked kitchen and for Luke, it meant sitting on the sofa while Matt brooded.

“You know, it’s really not that bad, it’s kinda cool.” Danny said, examine a package of dried fruit slices. “Remember when Spider-man had eight arms? That was a lot less cool than this.”

“Mm.”

“Six arms.” Luke said. 

“Spiders have eight arms!”

“Yeah, but Spider-man already had two legs. So, six arms, two legs, eight limbs. Point stands, Danny’s right, way less bad than six-arms Spider-man.”

Matt was seriously considering jumping through the window, escaping into the wilderness and living in a cave for the rest of his life. He was 90% sure he could make the jump from the window to the next building and at this point, even if he missed and hit the pavement face-first, he'd take it.

Danny nodded, “Yeah. And, it is by a wide margin less bad than the Man-Spider thing... as far as it was described to me. I mean, I didn’t see it, Spider-Man just told me about it.”

Danny wandered over to the sofa, just far enough outside of Matt’s reach that Matt couldn’t punch him in the neck. 

Luke apparently noticed Matt’s mood, because he placed himself between Matt and Danny.

“So, I’m sure you’re sick of answering this but, for the record, you’re absolutely sure-“

“I’m sure I’m not possessed again !” Matt said, angry, and ugh, he could hear and feel the growl in his throat this time. Danny and Luke both shifted back a little. Matt was starting to feel a little sick again.

“Alright, alright, relax.” Said Luke, putting his hands up, “I didn’t really think you were, just wanted to make sure.”

“Whatever.” Matt said. Shit, the growl was still there. Matt coughed to clear his throat, then stood and stormed over to the kitchen. He cracked open a bottle of cold water from the fridge and took a long drink.

“You know,” he coughed again, trying to clear the growl. The water hadn’t really helped outside of cooling him down a little, “Both of you have been possessed too and nobody is giving you guys any shit.”

“If either of us suddenly had glowing red eyes, I’d expect them to ask.” Luke said, politely ignoring the low bestial snarl Matt couldn’t keep out of his voice.

“Yeah. Once. Not repeatedly.”

“Okay, well, our possessions had a... smaller impact.” Danny said, weakly.

“Coney Island still smells like literal, actual demon shit hell and a thousand dead bodies.”

“It’s always smelled like that.”

Okay, that was true and was a major factor for why Matt never actually went anywhere near Coney Island. Or let himself be downwind of it. Matt could feel Danny and Luke’s eyes following him back to the couch. Fuck, why couldn’t Foggy have just left him alone instead of inviting over ... gawkers?

“I’m a little surprised you didn’t bring Jessica along. Make a whole day out of “babysitting-slash-laughing-at-Matt.” Matt said. He was maybe sulking a little.

“That’s not why we’re here, man...” Danny said, sighing. 

“And that’s why I didn’t bring Jessica.” Luke said, “When I told her, she cackled for a full minute and told me to tell you “if you don’t want to get caught up in the plot of a Disney channel Halloween special, don’t dress up like a character in a Disney channel Halloween special .”

Matt just grunted.

“Alright, you gotta use words because I don’t know if you’re agreeing or just snarling at me.”

“It’s both, Luke.”

Despite himself, Matt did appreciate Danny and Luke coming over. It had at least explained why Foggy had been freaking out, since Danny had made a crack about Lord of the Rings elves and then been forced to explain the ears and the eyes and then he apologized. 

Matt buried his face in his hands, his fingers brushing the sharp ridges at the base of the horns. God they were so much worse now, how had they gotten so much worse between waking up and coming home from the gym? 

Matt had put together the answer, of course, much as he wanted to allow himself to live in a world where he was blissfully ignorant of the fact he had apparently terrified a kid so badly that he was literally turning into a devil. Every time he got angry, or lost control, or did something... devil-y, he’d gotten hit with that loss of equilibrium and feeling of sickness and things would progress. Even something as apparently harmless as going at a punching bag in the gym counted. The fact the sickness kept coming randomly though, he was unsure about. Maybe the kid, hiding in the depths of the city, was worrying about the devil coming to find them. Matt didn’t even want to think about any internal physiological changes that might have been happening. The constant, creepy growling was bad enough.

“You know, I won’t lie, part of me is a little jealous, Matt.” Said Danny suddenly, interrupting a hard-to-follow audio description of an episode of Law & Order that had Matt and Luke both talking about how many laws the cops and prosecutors were breaking. 

“What?”

Danny seemed a little embarrassed, “It’s just... I kind of would have liked to get some dragon-specific bodily accessories.”

Matt frowned, but Danny kept talking.

“Not anything crazy, but like...  it wouldn’t be the end of the world if I had horns is all I’m saying.”

“Are you kidding.”

“You haven’t checked out the internet lately, have you? Everyone and their cousin wants to look like Fin Fang Foom and I wouldn’t turn down claws or something.”

Matt pinched the bridge of his nose, “You would if you had a secret identity and a job that wasn’t ‘kung-fu billionaire playboy’.”

“... Yeah, maybe.”

“Fin Fang Foom? Really?” Said Luke. 

“Yeah,” said Danny, “I get it, there’s something respectable about a 5-storey tall dragon with the decency to put pants on.”

Eventually, as the sun set, Matt convinced Luke and Danny he’d be okay and that it was fine for them to leave. 

“You’re sure? I don’t mind staying. We could have a slumber party.” Said Danny, as Matt escorted them to the front door of his apartment. 

“It’s alright, Danny.”

“Okay...”

Before Luke left, however, he turned to Matt. 

“And you’re not going out tonight. You need a break, Froggy said you’re sick.” 

“Luke...”

“Promise me, Matt.”

Matt sighed, “Alright. Yeah, I promise.”

Luke turned, left and Matt shut the door, fighting down the dizziness that suddenly struck him. Right, that had been a big Devil thing, hadn’t it. 

The Devil lied. 

Matt ran his forked tongue over the long, sharp fangs that were now filling his jaw and went to put his Daredevil suit on. 

Chapter Text

Jessica wasn’t remotely surprised to see Daredevil racing around the rooftops. Luke had said Matt had promised to stay in for the night, but there wasn’t a chance she would ever buy that. Matt had a self-destructive streak a mile wide, a martyr complex deeper than the Hudson and was basically incapable of resisting the compulsion to go out Daredeviling, even when it was hurting him. Especially when it was hurting him. She just hadn’t expected it to hurt him in such a cartoon magic horseshit way. This kind of thing didn’t usually happen to them, this was Avengers-level crap. 

She instead waited on a rooftop with a pair of binoculars. Every now and then she’d see him jump off a fire escape accompanied by the sound of gunshots, screaming or breaking glass. Sometimes all three. Crazy asshole. Jessica didn’t like to admit it, but she actually understood Matt pretty well. Sure, he was real Catholic about everything, but he also harbored a deep set lust for inflicting violence he couldn’t resist... and he felt really guilty about it. For fuck’s sake, whatever was happening to Matt now probably had him convinced he was absolutely damned and cursed by God or whatever for his hubris and bad fashion choices and was either leaning into it out of sheer Catholic despair or repressing it so hard he was going to spontaneously combust. 

Jessica only put her binoculars away when a full hour had passed since the last sighting. She’d deal with him in the morning. He was a lot worse off than she thought.  

— 

It was entirely too fucking early for Jessica to be awake, but awake she was and picking the lock to Matt’s apartment. Normally she’d just break the door down but he got really pissy about that and he didn’t seem to be in the best mood lately anyway. 

“Matt, it’s Jessica.” She called out into the apartment. He’d have heard her come in anyway but she’d rather not freak him out. God damn, though, the apartment was a mess. He’d stripped off the armor piece by piece as he’d dragged himself inside and there was a trail of blood running through the living room into the bedroom. Not enough to be worried about and she wasn’t even sure it was his blood. 

The door to the bedroom was open and when Jess looked inside, Matt was lying on his stomach and facing away from the door, long, clawed fingers clinging tight to the pillow and judging from the feathers scattered around, he’d torn through at least one of them already. His bare back was beaded with sweat and his lower half was tangled up in a thin sheet.

“Morning, sunshine.” Jessica said, leaning up against the doorframe. Matt lifted his body slightly, turned his head to face her (wow, those horns were worse up close) and literally hissed .

“Buddy, I won’t even let my neighbor’s cat talk to me like that, let alone a grown-ass man.”

He didn’t respond, but he was definitely glowering, baring his teeth (fangs, yikes) at her. There was dried blood at the corners of his mouth. Jessica approached the bed. 

“Nice tail by the way, speaking of your grown-ass.”

That made him respond. Matt leaned up slightly and the tail, long, pointed and ashy grey, shifted experimentally under the sheet. Matt buried his face in the pillow and let out a strangled, muffled scream.  Jessica waited. God help her, it wasn’t really funny but she did want to laugh because Matt really had the most insanely stupid things happen to him sometimes. Sure, stupid things happened to herself and to Luke and Danny, but Matt did seem to get the dumbest, craziest things.

“You alright?” She asked after he’d stop screaming and been still for a moment. 

“I didn’t even notice it.” Matt said into the pillow. His voice was a rough growl.

“Really?” Jessica raised an eyebrow, “Because I noticed it last night while you were bopping around the rooftops. Showed up about an hour in.”

“... Probably because I bit a guy.” Matt said, turning to face her again.

“Does that... have a connection?” 

Matt nodded glumly, “Yeah. Do devil... things, it gets worse.”

“Is biting people a devil thing?”

“I guess. It’s not a human thing, that’s for fucking sure. I don’t even know why I did it.”

Jessica shrugged, “Eh, fog of war. Somebody gets a body part too near your chompers, nature’s gonna take its course... You brushed your teeth after, right?”

“Honestly, I just went to sleep.”

“Alright, gross. Why don’t you go do that then, instead of lying here like a...” she tried to think of a devil pun and couldn’t, “sad man.”

Matt just made some kind of snarling grunt and buried his face in the pillow again. Jessica reached across the bed, grabbed what she could see of his tail and yanked it. 

Matt got pulled a full half-yard, leaving claw marks in the sheets and yowled in pain.

“What the hell, Jessica!”

“Stop being such a baby and clean yourself up.”

“That really fucking hurt.” 

“Shower will make it feel better. Go.”

Matt sat up and looked like he was ready for a fight.... then his shoulders sagged and he dredged himself out of bed, dragging the sheet around his waist with him. 

This was definitely much worse than she’d anticipated. Mildly funny, but he was such a sad sack already that she didn’t want to humiliate him. Better to just treat him as normal, that is, like the fucking shmuck he was, until this blew over. Jessica went out into the main room of his apartment. Christ, what a mess... but that wasn’t her problem, Jess wasn’t the type of woman who went over to boy’s houses and tidied up after them. She kicked the armored leggings (devil pants? Whatever) off the couch and sat down with her boots up on the table.  After a few minutes, Jessica heard the sound of the shower running, then the sound of a bunch of things getting knocked off a shelf and then the sound of Matt cursing a blue streak. Probably working with a sudden additional limb in the shower isn’t easy.  Jessica pulled her phone out. Word now on the street was that there was a literal demon haunting Hell’s Kitchen, totally separate from the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. Apparently “ Daredevil doesn’t have a tail and if he did, somebody would have shot it off by now ” was the thought according to the internet. Jessica wasn’t sure if that would make Matt feel better or not but it did make her wonder how many Satanic figures the residents were cool with showing up.

Matt was dressed by the time he got out of the shower. A ratty t-shirt and sweatpants he’d torn a hole in the back for the goddamn tail.

“Feeling better?” Jessica said without looking up from her phone.

Matt shrugged and walked into the kitchen. Jessica tried not to stare, but it was difficult. The Daredevil suit was vaguely devil-y, sure, but Matt was full Satan in Sweatpants right now. Horns, tail, teeth and talons wrapped in a ragged Columbia t-shirt that looked like it had been worn every night for the past 6 years. Absolutely ridiculous. Possibly he could hear her trying not to stare, his shoulders were hunched up in that way he moved when he was trying to hide and his tail was loosely wrapped around his legs and holy fuck she couldn’t believe she was reading his body language via a tail now.

“So.” Jessica said.

“So.” Matt said in a small voice.

Distracting Matt from it hadn’t helped, according to Foggy and whatever tact Danny and Luke had taken clearly hadn’t either, so there was only one thing to do now.

“So, what’s with you turning into a demon?”

Matt stopped, almost smiled a little, then shrugged. “I guess I’m a scary guy.”

“You’ve been scary for a while. Your buddy said this was a mutant spell or something?”

“That’s the working theory, yeah.” 

“Huh. Make me a coffee, will ya?”

Matt turned, awkwardly, back to the kitchen and started up the coffee maker. He clearly hadn’t been expecting Jessica to just barge in on the subject. 

“So, what, you surprise some brat and get punished for it by getting a Treehouse of Horror segment out on you?” Jessica said after prying the full story out of Matt and getting her coffee. Matt sat across from her on a chair, but kept shifting his tail around, uncomfortably. He clearly didn’t know what to do with it. 

“I don’t... think it’s a punishment.”

“Bullshit you don’t, I’ve met you, Murdock, and I know your idiot Catholic Guilt brain is screaming that you’ve been literally damned.”

“Yeah, well, so what if I have been?” Matt snarled suddenly. 

Okay, Jessica hadn’t been expecting that , nor was she expecting him to suddenly look woozy. She could see something nearly imperceptible change in his face, like a sharpening of his features. Matt took a deep breath.

“Sorry.” He said “I’m having some trouble staying calm.”

“Yeah, well... I get it, this sucks.”

“It does.” Matt held his cup of coffee a little tightly, claws scratching at the surface. 

“Are you any stronger, at least? Is there any benefit?” 

“I don’t think so. I don’t feel stronger, just... angrier. Worse. Darker.

Jessica raised a hand, “Okay, Murdock, we’re not doing a full therapy session here.”

Matt actually laughed a little at that, “Okay, right, strictly physical standpoint, no. I don’t think so. Unless you count literally being pointier .”

“Are there a bunch of two-bit crimeboys running around with claw marks on their faces like they fell into the tiger pit at the zoo?”

“Maybe. And one guy with a bite taken out of his forearm.”

“He’s probably getting antibiotics as we speak.”

“And stitches, I’m pretty sure I hit bone.”

“Nicely done.”

They finished their coffee in relative silence. Matt had actually unwound a little, particularly after Jessica told him that nobody suspected the new Demon of Hell’s Kitchen to be the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.

“So, no idea when this is gonna clear up?”

“ If it’s going to clear up.” Matt said darkly, somewhat undercut by the fact he was washing the mugs in the sink wearing bright yellow rubber gloves that his claws had torn right through.

“Well...” said Jessica, “If you hold out for a while, you might get wings. Flying might make up for the rest of it.”

Matt leaned on the counter, “I won’t lie, I did think of that.”

“Can your magic brain radar work in mid-air?”

“It works when I’m free-falling.”

“Wings would be way more useful than the tail.”

“Even harder to shower with, though.”

“You might need to move to a place with a bigger bathroom, yeah.”

Matt put the cups away, “I’m not sure I can afford it, I don’t think a demon would do well in a courtroom.”

“Psh,” Jessica waved him off, “If Strange can’t fix it when he shows up, he’ll be able to disguise it all or something, I’m sure.”

“That’ll work great until a bailiff trips over the tail.”

“Invisible tail, you just represent the bailiff and sue the courthouse for negligently slippery floors, that’ll be a big payday.”

“You’ve put a lot of thought into this “

Matt had settled into sitting on a chair with his tail pulled across his lap. 

“I just don’t want you moping around.”

“I haven’t been moping.”

“You’ve only got three moods, Murdock. Violent rage, mopey sad sack and smug asshole. And mopey sad sack Murdock is my least favorite, which is surprising because of how much I really hate smug asshole.”

“You say the nicest things, Jess.”

The day started to roll on. Matt seemed actually relieved to have a conversation about what was happening, one that wasn’t trying to console him. If Jessica had learned anything about Matt, it was that he was very weird about being vulnerable. Jessica thought she was too, but Matt had specific and hard to find boundaries about it, versus Jessica’s straight “No” about any of it outside of Trish. Matt vacillated between wide-open and shut-down and pinpointing that line was maddening. Maybe he just appreciated the fact Jessica never treated him as anything other than a capable, functional adult dumbass. 

“You’re not going out tonight, by the way.” Jessica said to Matt. 

“I’m not?” Matt looked a little amused.

At least he wasn’t trying to bullshit her like he did Luke and Danny.

“You’re not. Can’t you feel the air pressure or whatever?”

Matt paused and tilted his head to the window. 

“Ah. Rain’s coming.”

“ Thunderstorm coming. Don’t you usually spend those hunkered under your bed, crying, because you’re actually secretly a dog?”

“That’s... not accurate.”

“Is it the same with fireworks?”

“They’re a little wasted on me. But I don’t cry for either of those things.”

“Whatever.” Jessica picked up her bag. “Listen, Hornhead, I’m going to do you a solid. You said the kid was around where the Alfredo’s Pizza Palace is? The one that sells weed out the back?”

“And the dumpster with a bunch of possums in it.” 

“Yeah, I’m not going to know where that is. I’m going to see if I can track down this kid.”

“You don’t need to do that.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want our little Super Friends squad to get a reputation. Kicking out Daredevil for the actual devil is a bad look.”

Matt looked like he was about to argue, but whatever he was going to say died on his tongue. He just vaguely nodded.

“Alright, be good. I’ll be back tomorrow. Don’t do anything Satanic.” Jessica said as she headed to the door, “Unless you think you’ll get wings. Then absolutely do it.”

Chapter Text

Matt huddled himself into the corner of his bathroom, arms around his shins. It was the most insulated area, lacking any windows, so it muffled the sounds and air pressure as much as possible. Maybe Jessica was right, this was definitely a dog thing. He had considered making a break for the church basement but there was a flicker of worry that the devil wouldn’t be able to cross the threshold and if that happened, Matt was pretty sure he’d lose his mind.

His skin itched. He wanted so badly to get out into the night. To haunt the alleyways and tear into every scum sucking criminal piece of shit in Clinton. To break bones and shatter ribs and tear throats out and eat their hearts and — Okay, get a fucking grip, Matt.

This was getting out of hand. He didn’t kill people. Even the worst people. And no... curse or whatever was going to change that, even if every instinct in his head was screaming at him that the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen should rule over this city with blood in his teeth, perched on a throne made of the bones of his enemies. Instincts bad . He had to hold on to something about himself. Matt had a very real, deep worry that this was going too far. The tail was definitely pushing the edges of too far already, even though he found a strange comfort in wrapping it up around his legs and torso. If he let it continue, if he kept feeding the devil inside him, the one currently making a concentrated effort to make the outside of him match, by the time Strange showed up, it might be too late. He might end up stuck like this, not be able to be fixed. He might end up not wanting to be fixed. 

But that’s not the end of the world, is it? The devil whispered in the back of his mind. Further from human, sure, but farther from weakness . Stick would have approved. The devil could be stronger than Matt ever was. Stronger, fiercer, better, an ageless, eternal horror to stand vigil over Hell’s Kitchen until Manhattan sinks into the sea. And that was insane because he certainly hadn’t felt like an eternal horror last night when that guy had gotten a lucky punch in his neck, leaving Matt gasping for breath, before Matt tossed him into a dumpster. 

He flexed his claws and tried to ignore how quickly he’d gotten used to all the extra body parts. They weren’t even sending waves of revulsion through him anymore, not even the forked fucking tongue that he’d been desperate to pretend wasn’t there for the first hour, then just leaned into when he’d hissed at some dickhead threatening an old lady and the guy had screamed like he was in a horror movie. 

An upsettingly big part of him wished he had grown a pair of wings instead of the tail (instead of wishing he hadn’t grown anything ). The tail was completely absurd, uncontrollable and was absolutely the reason he’d almost washed his hair with body wash in the shower when he’d knocked all the bottles off the shelf.

For less than a second, Matt felt an awful flash of heat, followed by his body practically seizing with tension. Then that horrible bass boom vibrated through him. Normal, normal, normal, Matt reminded himself. Thunderstorms were always like this. Not the curse, not the devil, just a twinge of electricity clearing through the air that nobody else on the planet could feel. It at least expunged any idea to try and go out in this out of his mind. The dizzy spells were bad enough, he didn’t want to freeze up mid-jump and plummet off a fire escape. Plus, since he was apparently the devil now, he didn’t want to tempt God into striking him with a bolt of lightning. 

His skin still itched, though. Hot adrenaline was beginning to race through him and he didn’t know if this was just leftover from the lightning or the devil getting restless. Maybe just some push-ups or something would be enough.

“What the fuck happened?” Jessica said, staring around the half-destroyed living room the next day. The sofa was in complete shreds, gouges were covering the wood floor and there were scorch marks on the cabinets. 

“Had to work off some energy.”

The devil was lying on the remains of the sofa, still in the clothes he was wearing yesterday.

No major physical changes, at least (no wings, bummer) but something about him was stopping Jessica from getting too close, which was nuts. She tried to take a step closer and couldn’t help feeling like she was stepping off of a steep ledge, or about to stick her hand into a running wood chipper. Like approaching him was a self-destructive intrusive thought. 

“What are you so scared of?” The devil said, softly, leaning up to face her. Jessica shivered involuntary. His expression was strange, almost cruel, like he already knew why she was scared and was waiting for her to admit it, as if her fear was a victory. Jessica pushed the feeling down. She knew Matt and yeah, he was a violent, feral animal sometimes, but he was also sweet and kind and a major dork and this fear response wasn’t real . 

“You’re putting out some bad vibes, Murdock.”

“Oh... sorry.” Matt flopped back down on the destroyed couch and just like that, the atmosphere of terror broke. 

“That’s what Foggy said and that was over the phone.”

Jessica shrugged and shoved Matt’s legs off the couch so she could sit down. Heat was coming off him in waves, like a furnace. The couch against his bare skin where his shirt had ridden up was smoldering slightly.

“It’s magic, man, don’t worry about it. No wings, huh?”

“I’m legitimately disappointed.”

“Maybe the kid doesn’t think the devil has wings.”

“You’d tell me if my skin turned red, right?”

“You’re fine. I will tell you, though, you’re gonna need a new couch. Sorry for that news.”

“Eh, it’s okay. I found it outside.”

“You should try and find new floors outside too, or else you ain’t getting your security deposit back.”

Matt seemed disinterested in getting up, so Jessica made coffee herself. 

“So, here’s what I found. Shell casing around 11th and 46th, across from that haunted house.” She sat back down with her coffee and put Matt’s on the floor. The table didn’t look like it could support the weight.

“There’s a haunted house?”

“Well, like, a fake haunted house. A tourist attraction. I asked around, there’s a weird kid, no friends, classic magical outcast, and her dad’s been in the hospital for a few days because...”

“Because Daredevil jumped on him.”

“Yeah. He’s fine, broke collarbone, hospital is for an unrelated blood infection, so really, kid should be thankful to you.”

“Yeah, I did crush her father, so I won’t expect that.”

Jessica rolled her eyes, though she didn’t expect Matt to pick up on it.

“Whatever. He’s the guy that sells weed out of the pizza place, hence the hair trigger on the gun, he’s worried about territorial dealers. His wife gave me a dime bag, actually, she’s a fan. It was pretty good, actually, some offshoot strain of Sour Dies-“

“Jessica.”

Jessica thought Matt could probably do with some pizza place weed, but knowing Murdock, it either wouldn’t work or it would make him too sad to function and he was already kind of on that edge all the time already.

“Alright, well, the haunted house has got a “ True Devil of Hell’s Kitchen ” tour on right now. And you definitely got the look of the guy on their banners... that the kid can see from her window.”

Matt sighed heavily, “I feel like I should sue them..

“Yeah, well, the kid’s dad should be discharged soon, maybe today and the Satan Special will be over by Friday. So, might clear up by then.”

“Might not.”

“Not going down the pity party bus to Hell, Devilboy.” Jessica said, nudging Matt’s tail with her boot. 

“Sorry.”

He finally sat up. The couch was practically steaming under him. “I’ll go tonight, if I can find the place. Apologize or something.”

“Might help. I don’t think the devil is big on apologizing.”

“Will you come with me?” He asked, facing down at his claws.

Jessica stared at him.

“Why?”

"I just ... would like you to come."

Jessica almost sneered. God, was he joking? Who did he think he was asking? But... He did ask. For help . He never, ever asked for help. Stupid guileless sad idiot.

“Ugh, fine . But we’re not staying out busting heads, we’re going to apologize and that’s it.”

“Okay.”

Matt paused. “Did you say Pity Party Bus?”

“Yeah, like a party bus, but sad.”

 Matt nodded slowly. 

“Okay.... What’s a party bus?”

Chapter Text

“You know what a party bus is, you piece of shit.”

“It’s a totally new term to me. I keep telling you.”

“I will throw you off this rooftop, you parkouring dipshit.”

Matt smiled and heard Jessica’s disgusted grunt at his jawful of fangs. He probably shouldn’t be enjoying inspiring revulsion but really, it was only one step farther from enjoying being a dick for the sake of it, which he definitely already did before. Hence spending the last 45 minutes pretending to not know what a party bus was and deliberately misunderstanding her multiple explanations for no good reason. Plus, he’d let her take a photo of him for “posterity’s sake”. She owed him.

“Remind me why I agreed to come with you?”

“I believe it was because you said ‘you look like a ‘goat in a depressive spiral I don’t want me to be in a video on Facebook about sad, abandoned ungulates set to tragic piano music, urging the viewer to donate to the ASPCA.’”

“I stand by that.”

“Ungulates have hooves. I don’t have hooves.”

“Not yet.”

Matt shuddered. 

“Please don’t say that....”

Matt trailed off and froze. Angered whispering up ahead. A threat.  He took off at a sprint, leaving Jessica yelling behind him, 

“Hey! I said no busting heads!”

-

Joseph Brighton was having an absolutely terrible week. He’d accidentally almost shot Daredevil, gotten his collarbone broken in return (well, fair enough), wound up stuck in the hospital with some infection (maybe he should thank Daredevil for sending him the ER, actually) and now he was facing down three angry Russians at lead-pipe-point. 

Things had maybe escalated a little.. 

“Listen.” Said Joseph, trying to keep his voice calm, “I really don’t think I’m infringing on your, uh, turf. We mostly sell pizza, the pot is just, you know, a ... side dish?” 

He chanced a look at the window behind him, praying Izzy wouldn’t be watching. She’d seen enough scary shit lately… And he didn’t want these guys to melt into a puddle of goo or something.

“Maybe we want to move into pizza too.” Said the burliest Russian, “Maybe we want to go into breadsticks too.”

“Calzones, even.” Said the shortest Russian, “You think we want you cutting into our calzone sales too?”

“Calzones aren’t really a big seller for us so-“ Joseph shut his mouth when the Third Russian lifted his pipe, threateningly.

“How about you - “ 

The pipe-wielder was gone.

The three remaining men stared at the empty space he had been occupying three seconds earlier. 

“Wha-“ 

The pipe-wielder came flying back in the light cast from Joseph’s door, half-conscious, pipe missing, his shirt sleeve torn and bloody from four deep scratches on his shoulder. The burly one spun and faced the pitch-black alley his buddy had been thrown in from. 

“Who did that!”

The answer came in the form of a red baton sailing in from the darkness. It popped the burliest man in the center of his forehead and he went down like a sack of bricks.

The third man looked at his two floored companions, then up at Joseph, then into the alley. He raised his hands up and took a step back. 

“..So, I’m going to go. Maybe research calzones. I think they got potential. So, uh, no harm, no foul. Joe, you have a nice night. Mr. Devil, you too.”

He nodded toward the alley. 

“Leave.” Said the alley in a deep, rough snarl. 

The man nodded again and hands still raised, walked away.

Joseph peered into the alley. 

“Daredevil...?” He said, a little hesitantly. 

A grunt came in reply. The shadows shifted a little and Joseph could barely make out the glint of those red eyes. He breathed out in relief. He knew Izzy was a little scared of Daredevil, but he was clearly none the worse for wear. Maybe she hadn’t done anything to him, or he was immune to her… whatever . 

“I - uh, sorry for... shooting at you the other day.”

“It’s fine.” Came the growl back. 

“And I should thank you, actually, for hitting me, I-“

“Don’t.”

Joseph shut his mouth. Why was Daredevil so much scarier in conversation than he was when he was actively landing on him?

“Well, um. Thanks for the assist tonight.”

The shadows shifted again. 

“...Tell your kid I’m not the real devil. It’s just a costume.”

 There was a rustle, then the clank of a fire escape... and then, silence. 

Joseph exhaled, then went inside to call the cops on the two unconscious gangsters on his porch and tell his daughter who had just saved his life.

-

Matt dropped down next to Jessica. 

“Sorry about that.”

“I said no busting heads.”

Matt shrugged and walked past Jessica, back towards his apartment, “Heads needed to be busted.”

“Are we not still finding the kid?”

“I think it’s taken care of.” Matt said. He felt... lighter, somehow. His head felt cleared and the unrelenting heat inside had started to dissipate. 

Jessica turned and watched him walk, “So, you’re good?”

“I’m good.”

“...So you wasted my whole night for nothing.”

“Sorry.”

Jessica sighed, “You owe me, Murdock.”

-

Matt woke up to an unbelievable sense of relief. He felt blessedly normal. He slid his clawless hands over his regular, hornless forehead, his teeth didn’t feel sharp against his lips, his tongue was unforked. He sighed and flopped back against the pillows. 

“Good morning.” Said Dr. Strange. 

Matt jumped.

“Don’t... Do that... please.”

Strange was just about the only person able to sneak up on Matt and he just hated it. 

“Wow, nice way to greet a guy who came from another dimension to solve your problem.”

“Sorry. You just surprised me. I thought you weren’t back for another month.”

Strange shrugged. “I can still pick up my messages. This seemed like a minor issue, thought I could pop by real quick and fix it. Things got a little out of... claw, huh?”

Matt refused to laugh at that and rubbed the back of his neck (his hand sliding over a human ear, thank God), “A little. I think I’m fine now, though. Sorry for making you come here for nothing.”

“Well, still, I shouldn’t leave you without a solution for that .” 

For what? 

Matt’s stomach dropped and his tail lashed under the sheets. It was still there? Why was it still there? How did he keep not noticing it was attached to him?

“I kind of thought it might be magic, but this is some kind of reality re-adjust. Mutants, huh?” Strange said as he hovered closer to Matt. 

“Reality re-adjust.” Matt repeated in a hollow voice. He anxiously curled his tail over his legs.

“Yeah. And it really wants to re-exert itself, so just coming away with the tail is kind of the best case scenario.”

Matt was pretty sure this was not the best case scenario. Fuck did he wish he’d held out for wings.

“But hey, you’re almost all the way back to human for now.” Strange continued.

Matt covered his face with his hands and groaned. 

“For now ?”

“Like I said, reality wants to exert itself. So, you know, keep an eye on it. Well, a metaphorical eye. Keep an ear out for it?”

Matt didn’t respond. The tail? Really? That’s what stuck around? It couldn’t have been the teeth or the tongue or the general bad-vibes? Something he could hide? Shit, the bad vibes would have been useful at least, not a 4 foot long bottle-knocker-over. 

Strange spoke again and his cloak, apparently of its own accord, rested a gentle amount of fabric on his shoulder..

“Hey, I’m not gonna leave you hanging. I can, uh, intangible-ize it. Nobody else’ll be able to feel it or notice it, no harm to your perfect ass.”

“Oh my God...” Matt rubbed his forehead, “Okay. Great. Thank you.”

Strange scoffed, “What kind of Sorcerer Supreme would I be if I couldn’t hide a demon’s tail, right?”

“Please don’t call me a demon.”

“Fine, fine, Mr. Sensitive.” 

Strange drubbed his hands together, then made a series of small gestures that Matt couldn’t quite differentiate. 

“Okay! You’re all set, former-hornhead.”

Matt grabbed the tail under the sheet. “I ... don’t feel any different...”

“Well, yeah, you know it's there, it’s your tail. Relax, the only people who’ll notice are people who know that you ever had it. I’m assuming that’s a short list.”

Matt thought. Jessica was the only one who saw it in-person, but she had definitely sent a photo to Foggy, Danny and Luke… Maybe to Spider-Man. 

“I guess. Jessica took a photo.”

“Oh, really? I’ll have to ask her to send it to me for posterity. Ha- Posterio-“

“ Please, do not .”

-

There hadn’t been any people stopping in their tracks to stare at him, so Matt was pretty sure the ... spell or whatever had worked. Worked as well as it was going to. He hadn’t even felt it when somebody stepped on his tail on the sidewalk, but he’d sure as shit felt it when he closed the office door on it.

It was, unfortunately, going to take some getting used to. But he’d gotten used to his enhanced senses, he could get used to an extra limb. 

Probably. 

Maybe. 

“Uh, Matt...?” Foggy said as Matt, walked into the office, still wincing from being pinched by the door. “I don’t want to alarm you, but...” 

“I know, Foggy.”

“But you.... are you better?”

“As better as I’m getting. You can only see it because you know I have it.”

“Ah. Looked smaller in the picture, you know.”

Matt sat down in his chair, then readjusted so his tail hung out the gap in the back. Foggy nudged it with his shoe and Matt jerked it away.

“So…” Foggy took another step forward, “Does it wag when you’re happy?”

“Foggy...”

“Is it prehensile? Can you hang from it like a possum?”

“Fogs.”

“Do you wanna hang a bell from it at Christmas?”

“If you don’t drop it, I’m going to drown you in the Hudson.”

“Okay, okay, you big ... non-possum baby...” Foggy walked towards his own office.

Matt buried his face in his hands for the sixth time that morning.

Foggy leaned his head back in, “... Do you want me to come over and help you cut holes in the back of all your slacks?” 

Matt sighed. 

“Yes, please.”