Okay, first off, this motherfucker was blind?

Second off - what the fuck?

Azirale had suspected Daredevil had some sort of superpower or enhancement or mutation or whatever it was humans had these days - but this was just bullshit. The world was screaming around them. Deafening. The wind was like knives on their skin, the cloth of their suit like sandpaper, the approaching police sirens felt like they were going to shatter their skull any moment.

They knew they were standing in the alley, surrounded by dead or dying bodies and broken bits of fire escape, they knew this, but suddenly they had lost all sense of direction and place.

Somewhere a baby was crying. There weren't any babies in the alley...then they heard a TV set snap on, could smell someone cooking curry, hear someone moan in the middle of an orgasm. Slowly, too slowly, they realized all these sounds and smells were coming from the buildings around them.

Shit! They clapped his hands over their ears, but it didn't help.

They didn't need to know what was going on three blocks over - they needed to get out of this alleyway.

Just then, Az felt something tug deep in their gut. It was painful.

They stumbled to the wall and fell to their knees. Was this body sick? Was it trying to vomit?

The painful pulling sensation came again, and Azirale coughed, gagging. They clapped a hand to Daredevil's mouth, horrified to sense a bit of black smoke puff away before darting back into Daredevil's lips.

Was...was this human trying to push Azirale out?

This had been a bad idea.

But they weren't about to let this mortal punk get the better of them.

Trying to remember the location of the roof approximate to their current position, Azirale did their best to cancel out all the distractions and just made a wild leap for it. They felt the air cutting past their exposed skin, the rush of it roaring in their ears - they had no clue where the roof actually was...except they did. Something about the way the wind flow changed around their body, the way sounds were bouncing around them - they could tell the roof was a few feet to their left and slightly above them. And they were about to collide with the edge of the building.

Desperately, they shot a hand out towards where they thought they could sense the roof. There was contact, though the rest of their body slammed painfully into the brick side of the building.

Below, the police had just reached the alley. They could smell the powder of their guns, hear their footsteps bouncing against the walls of the alley, their heartbeats.

They didn't want to focus on that, though - they wanted to get on this goddamn roof so they could properly control this body they had just possessed.

They managed to haul Daredevil over the edge and fall to the gravelley floor of the roof with a dull thud. And they just lay there for a moment. They needed to process.

Okay. So Daredevil was blind. But he had super enhanced senses - that explained how he got around, and fought the way he did. Azirale just needed to figure out how to properly use Daredevil's senses, and they could get on with...with whatever they were doing.

Why had they decided possessing Daredevil was a good idea again?

Something about teaching him a lesson.

What it really meant to be a devil.

That would have to wait - right now he needed to learn how to be...

Azirale paused, searching through his new vessel's mind for a moment. It felt nice to focus inward instead of on the blaring world ouside.

Right now, Azirale needed to learn how to be...Matt.

Matt Murdock.

A few memories flashed through Matt's mind, and Azirale tried to get a proper grasp on them - an office, an image of a boxer, the feeling of braille beneath his fingers, a few names - but before Azirale could sort through the influx of information, the memories were snatched back. A wall went up between Azirale and the rest of Matt's mind.

Huh. Interesting.

And frustrating.

At least Matt wasn't trying to push Azirale out anymore, though.

No, now Azirale was focused. They were getting comfy in this body. Just laying flat on their back, cautiously prodding at Matt's mental block, trying to get more information from their host, letting the challenge distract them from the onslaught of sensory input pounding at the other side of their mind.

They knew as soon as they turned their focus back towards the outside world, though, their grip on Matt's body would get weaker. This guy was the most strong-willed human Azirale had ever possessed. If he gathered enough strength, and Azirale was distracted enough, they knew Matt could probably expunge them from his body.

And they weren't going to let that happen. Because even if Matt had the strongest will of any human Azirale had encountered, it was nothing compared to their own stubbornness.

So, reluctantly, they left Matt's mind alone and instead turned their focus outwards once again.

They immediately winced.

Loud, isn't it?

What the - vessels weren't supposed to talk back.

Azirale immediately focused inwards again - but that mental wall was still up. It occurred to them that Matt must have had some sort of training to deal with possession, or mind control, at least. That would make things challenging.

They smiled - they definitely weren't bored now.


Matt felt distant from everything. Muffled. But he was still there.

After the initial shock of having his body taken over by some foreign entity, and getting past the burning/suffocating darkness and panic, he remembered Stick's training. He could feel the thing settling into his skin, his bones, controlling his muscles like a puppet. He could also feel it's confusion. His senses, which he had learned to organize into carefully constructed chaos, were all over the place. The thing had no idea how to control them, how to focus, how to use them to see. It was also probably thrown off by the fact that Matt could not, in fact, see.

It stumbled around, or he stumbled around - pronouns got confusing when possession was involved. It stumbled around for a moment, trying to get a handle on everything, and Matt could sense it's disorientation in his own body.

He wasn't sure what it was, but he could feel it. Feel the darkness, feel his own body like a memory - and he pushed back.

The thing winced, crumpling against a wall.

Matt felt himself becoming more present in his body once again, the familiar warmth and hum of his bones and muscles becoming clear. He tried to take them back.

The thing gagged, covering its mouth.

Matt felt clarity for a moment, and then abruptly he was shoved back into darkness and fog as the thing reasserted control over his body and made a wild jump at the roof.

They almost didn't make it, but luckily they managed to haul his body out of site as the police arrived.

That's when it started trying to read his mind.

Matt had trained for this. Stick had taught him how to meditate, how to control his own mind, how to protect it against invaders. Matt had been skeptical - mind readers? Really? - but had diligently trained, obeying Stick's orders.

God, was he glad of that now.

He constructed a wall in his mind, careful to control his thoughts, keep them inside the wall, keep them protected, away from the infringing darkness.

The thing didn't give up, though, prodding into his mind like a song stuck in his head, or an unwanted memory that popped up when you smelled a certain scent. But he was ready. It wasn't getting anything from him. It wasn't getting Foggy, or Karen, or Claire. He didn't know what it wanted, exactly, but he knew it wasn't good.

The thing seemed to give up, and in the next moment Matt felt his senses flood back in - loud and sharp and rank, how they used to be when he first woke up in the hospital as a kid.

Azirale winced.

Because suddenly Matt knew the thing's name was Azirale.

He supposed if you were sharing a body, the mind-reading thing went both ways.

Maybe...maybe he could communicate with it.

He knew it was dangerous - allowing any sort of contact between his mind and this thing, Azirale, could potentially lead to Azirale getting past Matt's mental defenses. But he had to try - he had to know what was going on.

"Loud, isn't it?"

Azirale, in Matt's body, froze. Then it grinned with Matt's lips.

You're handling this very well - being possessed by a demon and all. Usually my vessels are a little less calm, and more...screaming and crying? Or dying - that happens too.

Matt didn't answer back, instead putting his wall back up. A demon.

Right.

Aliens, shadowy organizations, ninjas, crime lords, superheroes - and demons.

He supposed that's what he got for adopting the name Daredevil.

"Why are you doing this?"

You were annoying me. I wanted to teach you a lesson.

"What lesson?"

If you're going to call yourself the Devil, I wanted you to know what that meant.

"How's it going so far?"

Matt knew he probably shouldn't be sarcastic when talking to the demon that was currently possessing his body, but it just slipped out. Fortunately, all Azirale did was sit up - moving Matt's body more like a zombie with rigor mortis than a living human being.

Your superpower sucks.

Matt laughed. He actually laughed - his lips moved, and sound escaped. It wasn't exactly his laugh, but for a second he had controlled his own body.

Then Azirale was back in control, and he froze again. A low growl escaped his throat - it felt strange to hear his voice, and know he wasn't the one speaking.

Below, Matt could hear the police on their radios, calling an ambulance, making reports. He could hear their heartbeats, and the heartbeats of the downed men that had attacked him. He wondered if Azirale knew anything about that - but he would have to find out later. Because not all of the men's hearts were still beating. Plus there was the dead body that Azirale had been possessing earlier. They needed to get out of here.

"We need to leave," Azirale said.

We're on the same page there.

"Then help me - I can't control your stupid powers yet."

Why don't you just leave, and we can go our separate ways?

"I'm not leaving. And if you don't help me, then Daredevil is going to get charged with murder, and everyone will find out your true identity. I can't imagine that's what you want."

Matt growled - or he would have, but Azirale wasn't give him an inch when it came to control. So he just remained a voice in his own head.

Fine.

Azirale jumped to his feet, and the world spun around them.

"So how do we do this?"

You'll have to give me control.

"And you try to push me out again? No thanks."

I can't resist you and concentrate on my senses at the same time. Besides, this was your idea.

Azirale grunted assent, and Matt felt his head clearing. It was like waking up out of a dream, or taking headphones off after listening to a book for hours. The world became sharp and defined around him once again, and he wanted to let out a sigh of relief. Unfortunately, Azirale didn't let him have that much control. He realized his breathing and heart rate were remaining at the same steady rates he had heard in the other freaks - which he now realized had all been humans possessed by demons.

He let the world in - all the sounds, smells, tastes, tangible sensations; the echoes bouncing off walls and rooftops, the chill wind, the slight dampness in the air from a recent rain, the smell of steam and garbage and night air, the taste of blood in the air. He organized it all, placing them in space, orienting his world around him.

"That's much better," Azirale said.

Their voice was Matt's voice, but it wasn't - the intonation and timbre were off, lower, gruffer. It sounded more like his "Daredevil" voice, but slightly more nasal. No one would probably really notice the difference, except Matt himself. Or Foggy. Foggy would definitely notice.

"Where are we going? You won't let me in that iron lock box of yours," Azirale asked.

Matt hesitated. He really didn't want a demon in his home. But they needed to get out of here.

I'll guide us. Just follow my lead.

"We'll see how that goes, for now," Azirale huffed.

After that they didn't talk much. Their minds were in sync, to some extent. Just like how you didn't think about moving your arm to scratch an itch, or move your legs to walk - you just did it.

They got a running start and leaped off the roof.

And they flew.

Not literally, though Matt really wasn't sure what demon powers included. But they sailed through the air, landing on a rooftop three buildings away. The concrete cracked slightly under their feet.

"You like that?" Azirale asked, laughter in their voice.

Matt didn't answer. He wasn't going to admit to enjoying anything that happened while he was possessed by a demon. But….damn.

Azirale laughed, and Matt's anger flared. But he immediately calmed himself. That's what Stick had taught him - in this type of situation, he couldn't let his emotions get to him. He had to be calm, in control. He couldn't freak out. He couldn't get lost. He couldn't concentrate on the fact that a demon was in his body, his mind. He could panic later - right now he had to be. Calm.

They put some distance between themselves and the police. No fancy flips or gratuitous parkour tonight - just superhuman leaps and brute strength. A few times on the landing, Matt felt the dull repercussions jar his body, and knew if he was more present he would be rolling in pain. Azirale didn't feel it though, and so neither did Matt. The demon didn't seem to concerned with self-preservation. It also hadn't seemed concerned when a piece of rusty metal was sticking out of its heart earlier. Matt was at least grateful it wasn't actively trying to hurt Matt's body or break any of his bones.

"Where are we going, kid?"

Matt didn't answer. He wasn't going to lead this demon to his home. But he didn't know where else to go. He couldn't stay on the streets forever, and he really wanted to avoid running into any people in this state. He didn't have a lot of options.

They were perched on the corner of an apartment building roof overlooking the city, waiting to see where Matt would lead them next. He had the feeling he better decide fast, or Azirale would be choosing their next locale.

Before he could make a decision, though, he heard the sound of a camera shutter snapping.

Their head jerked towards the noise, and Matt could sense an open window across the street, a heartbeat - young and fast. A kid, leaning out their bedroom window, snapping of picture of Daredevil.

He hoped the kid would go away, but when she saw Daredevil cock his head in her direction, her heart rate picked up and she started waving.

Great.

"Looks like you have a fan," Azirale purred, turning towards the kid against Matt's will. He couldn't do anything to stop them as they stood, leaping across the street and onto the narrow ledge of the kid's window with hardly any effort at all.

The little girl let out a yelp of surprise and stumbled back when Daredevil landed on her window sill, precariously but assuredly balanced on the narrow space.

"Hello, miss. You doing alright tonight?" Azirale said in Matt's voice, in Matt's body.

The little girl crept back towards the window, "Mr. Daredevil?"

Azirale smiled, Matt's lips pulling into a strained grin much wider than his own gentle smile.

"That's me."

The girl giggled slightly, "I can't believe you're here! You're my hero!"

Run away! Run away! Matt wanted to scream. He's not me! He's not Daredevil!

"Oh, but I am," Azirale said softly, and Matt realized he had let his guard down. He tried to concentrate, but if he had been in control of his body his heart would have been racing. Azirale could snap this girl's neck and he wouldn't be able to stop them. All he would be able to do was watch.

"And Daredevil would get the blame, wouldn't he?" Azirale said again.

"Huh? What are you talking about?" the girl asked. She couldn't hear Matt. Of course she couldn't.

"Do you know why they call me the devil, little girl?"

"Uh...because...you punish bad guys?"

"No, because I am a bad, bad man," Azirale hissed, reaching out towards the little girl. To grab her. To snap her neck.

Matt let down all his mental defenses and focused all his energy on his muscles, on regaining control. He felt his heart do a frightening little jump, his limbs burning, his mind racing - then he felt his arms. They were buzzing, like he had slept on them wrong and they had fallen asleep, but they were his.

He forced hands down, gripping the window sill with tight knuckles. He could feel Azirale fighting against him, the muscles in his arms and hands jumping and twitching, but he just tightened his grip.

"Go. Away. NOW," Matt ordered the girl, jaw clenched. He thought he felt a trickle of something warm dribble down his lip - was his nose bleeding?

The girl's heart rate had spiked, pounding out of control. She was frightened. Good.

"Run!" he shouted again, then his mouth clamped shut and he couldn't open it again. Azirale was taking over. The girl turned and ran away from the window. Matt tried to leap away from the window, but Azirale made to follow the girl inside. They ended up halfway in between, slamming into the window sill before losing their grip and falling.

It was a short but swift fall, and Matt's entire body and mind were a swirl of fighting and struggle, trying to regain control from Azirale. They were so busy fighting no one prepared Matt's body for its collision with the ground.

His head smacked against something hard and in the next instant, Matt was unconcious.