Sorry this chapter took so long! It's still not quite perfect, but I didn't want to keep y'all waiting! I hope you guys like it. If you're confused about anything - all will be revealed in it's due time! Also, I promise a lot more action next chapter! Thanks for the follows/faves, you are the most favored objects of my affections. And a million thanks for the wonderfully kind reviews, you make this worth writing. And thanks to everyone for reading, you're the real heroes here. Without any further ado -
Matt could feel Azirale's apprehension, compounding it with his own. Every single one of his functioning senses was on high alert - but he couldn't pick up anything. The only sounds he could hear were his and the Winchesters' footsteps, their breathing, and their two heartbeats. Beyond that - nothing. The door, the walls, the floor - gone. He knew the floor, at least, was still there, because they were walking. But only because he felt it underfoot - according to his radar sense they were floating in a void.
"I can't see a thing," Sam whispered, the soft noise thundering in the silence.
Matt almost made a snide comment, but thought better of it. The brothers didn't need any hints about the whereabouts of their missing blind man. Az, however, was eager to supply.
Imagine that - must be horrible, the demon said. Matt smirked, and was thankful Sam and Dean couldn't see it.
"What's going on? What is this place?" Matt asked internally.
"Shit if I know. Something bad - but it's not too late to turn back. I say we - "WATCH OUT!"
Azirale's voice erupted out of Matt, interrupting whatever the demon had been about to say. Matt felt it as soon as Az did - the warning was for the Winchesters.
Something in the void. Something shivering and smelling like an inside-out corpse, phlegm and decomposition rattling with every breath, a shape amongst the void pressing in around them. It hadn't been there a moment ago - there had been nothing there. Then suddenly - a monster. Too-long limbs with stretching claws reaching out towards them.
Dean spun around blindly, stumbling right into the creature's grasp. Sam shouted in confusion and cocked his shotgun. Neither of them could tell where it was. Together, Matt and Az snatched the gun from Sam - ripping it from him with inhuman strength - and fired a blast at the thing's arm. It released Dean with a piercing howl. They all doubled over and covered their ears, stumbling away from the noise. Matt felt the wooden floor underfoot, then bashed into what should have been a wall - but instead just felt a heady wave of buzzing magic and stumbled out of the hallway and into an empty space.
And then everything went topsy-turvy.
Matt was already disoriented - it's not like he had been able to hear much before, but now he couldn't even detect Sam or Dean's heartbeats, or the monster's rattling breathing. He desperately tried to reach out with his senses, then physically tried to reach out - but his hands met with nothing. He wasn't sure he could even feel his hands.
"Matt! Get it together! We gotta get back on the path."
Matt didn't know what Az was talking about - everything was spinning. He felt like he was falling, or drowning. He felt Azirale take over, and he let the demon in. His muscles switched ownership, but it didn't feel forced or claustrophobic anymore - right now, it was a comfort. Az would get them out of...wherever this was. He didn't have a doubt in his mind - they were definitely not in the narrow hallway they had seen from the alleyway. They were...somewhere else. Maybe they were nowhere. Maybe they had fallen out of the physical plane - that's what it felt like.
But now his hearing was coming back - he could hear the brothers' heartbeats far away, muffled and warped, like the sound was traveling through water.
Az was moving. It felt similar to when they soared through the air, jumping building to building. The heartbeats were drawing closer. And with it came a voice, muted and cut off, being swallowed up by the air around it.
"Sam! Sam! Damn it. Sam!" Dean was shouting, his voice cracking. Az reached out and snagged his jacket sleeve, then clapped the other hand to Dean's mouth. Dean twitched for his gun, but Az's demonic strength kept him from drawing.
"We've got to get Sam. Stay close," Az said, then they were moving again.
Matt was coming back to his senses, but he still couldn't tell where they were. The monster seemed to be gone for the moment - but it wasn't far off. And there were more.
He could hear them - hissing, growling, rasping, somewhere around them. Above, below - direction didn't seem to have meaning here. They had fallen into some sort of twilight zone. A bad dream.
"Dean! Daredevil! Dean!" Sam was shouting - Az reached him. Then they were surging away again. Floating back up from the murky depths. Something brushed a cold, bony hand against Matt's body, but it couldn't get a hold. They moved past.
Then with a shock they were back - the floor was beneath them. Matt could sense the creaking floorboards. Az projected their senses out, and Matt let them, working with the demon to map out their surroundings. There - only a few meters ahead - another door.
"Get up, we have to move," they said. Az and Matt had blurred into one - their only thought escape. Getting out of whatever this was.
Dean and Sam were collapsed on the floor, gasping and shaking their heads, clambering to their feet. They didn't have time for this. The things were still lurking. The void was still pressing in.
Daredevil grabbed them both by the elbow and hauled them to their feet, then pulled them to the door.
They didn't bother turning the knob, just kicked the door in. Their three bodies tumbled through the door all at once and spilled out onto a dusty concrete floor.
Suddenly the world around them came back into focus. It smelled of dust, and blood, and sweat and fear. And blueberry muffins. Chalk, paint. Sulfur. Herbs. Smoke - the embers of the fire were still burning. And guns. Lots of guns.
Matt could feel the heat of the smoldering fireplace - an ancient brick thing in one of the upstairs lofts. Matt and Az honed in on the sound of the still-crackling flames. That wasn't the only thing they could hear. There were voices. Slow, steady heartbeats. Footsteps. Coming their way.
"Get up. Get up. We have to hide - they're coming," Matt said.
The two brothers finally seemed to have gotten their feet under them again. They nodded and followed Daredevil towards some crates stacked in the corner of the warehouse.
They ducked behind the nearest crate as the door to the upstairs loft opened and a pair of demons ran out onto the metal balcony overlooking the floor of the warehouse.
"What was that?"
"Look - the door is open."
"Damn those idiots. One of them is going to get loose in here one day. We need better wards."
"Bouvois wouldn't let them hurt us."
"Then you go down there and shut the door."
Both the demons hesitated for a moment, then the second demon spoke again.
"We'll let the others do it when they get back."
The first demon laughed and started teasing the other as they retreated back into the loft room.
"They're gone," Matt informed the Winchesters.
"Man, what the hell was that?" Dean whisper-shouted, his heart still trying to return to its normal pace.
"Some sort of...portal? A spell? That monster must have been some sort of...guard dog?" Sam supplied.
"Doesn't matter now - we need to find out what we can before the rest of them get back. We may not have much time," Matt said.
"Who put you in charge," Dean muttered under his breath, not expecting Matt to hear it. Slightly louder, he said, "Okay. You keep an eye on those demons upstairs, and the entrances. Let us know if we have company."
Matt didn't comment on the irony of Dean's orders, and just nodded. From what he could sense in the room, he wouldn't be much help searching. Lots of papers, some chalkboards, and lots and lots of old books. And the guns - these crates were full of them. But that's not what they were searching for.
Matt didn't know exactly what they were searching for - anything that would tell them what Bouvois was up to. The two brothers headed across the warehouse floor and started rifling through books and papers. Matt decided to do a little search of his own. Being mindful of the demons upstairs, he cast his senses around the warehouse to get a better idea of its contents.
All activity in the space seemed to take place on the fringes - the middle of the warehouse floor was completely clear. If they had a hoop, the could set up a basketball court in the empty space. Every other inch of the warehouse was crammed full of stuff - the far wall downstairs reminded Matt of a college lecture hall or a professor's office. There were a number of desks - all crammed with paper and little trinkets that hummed with magic energy. There were some rolling chalkboards set up in various places among the desks, and tables filled with books and more items humming with magic energy.
Then there were tables filled with guns in various states of assembly, bullets, and even some grenades. Matt knew Bouvois had fingers in almost every criminal enterprise in Hell's Kitchen - this must be her headquarters for arms deals and production.
He turned his attention to the rooms upstairs. The doors led out onto a metal rail balcony overlooking the warehouse. In one room - the one with the fireplace - the two demons were playing Monopoly. There didn't seem to be anything of interest in any of the other rooms - shelves filled with books, furniture, or more guns. But one of rooms caught his attention - it smelled of death.
Bodies.
But that wasn't all - there was something else...something strange. Matt thought it might be magic, then he thought it might be a demon he had missed in his first sweep, and then he realized it reminded him of the monster they had encountered in the disturbing liminal hallway just a moment ago. Whatever it was, it didn't seem to have a physical form. But Matt could sense it all the same - he couldn't hear its heartbeat or feel its body heat, but he knew it was there.
"What the hell is that?" Matt asked.
"Fuck if I know. It almost feels like a demon, but something's not quite right. Wanna check it out?"
"We gotta keep watch for the Winchesters," Matt answered.
"Screw 'em. They won't even notice."
Matt turned his attention towards the brothers - Dean was studying what seemed to be a ledger, while Sam had his nose in an old tome that smelled of dust and aging paper.
He then checked on the Monopoly Demons - one was mourning his lost property while the other cackled and collected their reward.
"A quick peek," Matt conceded.
Az cheered, and Matt stealthily moved towards the metal stairs leading to the balcony. He couldn't stop his boots from clanking softly against the rattley stairs, though - and the Winchesters had battle reflexes.
"What the hell, Evil Knievel?" Dean hissed, attention instantly zeroing in on Matt.
"There's something upstairs," Matt answered, then kept going.
He felt Sam and Dean pass a look behind, let out sighs - one with a curse - before following after Matt.
They crept past the Monopoly room, past the storage rooms, past what smelled like a library, and to the last room. Matt could sense it more clearly now, but that didn't help him identify the strange entity in the room. He could sense something else now, though - a glass jar, quietly buzing with magic. Whatever the thing was, it was in the jar. It didn't seem to obey physics, however; it felt like it was much larger than the jar, or moved in ways that didn't belie being trapped in a jar. And there was still the smell of death smothering everything - there was a pile of bodies stacked haphazardly against the wall.
Matt and Az didn't mention any of this to the brothers, though - they just opened the door and walked in.
"Jesus Christ," Dean said between gritted teeth, and Sam threw up a little in his mouth.
Matt could taste it.
"Tasty," Az said.
"Don't," Matt responded.
"What the hell is this?" Dean waded into the room, going directly towards the bodies and poking them with his shoe. They squelched slightly.
"Guys, look at this," Sam said, standing towards the back of the room.
He found the jar.
"What the hell is that?" Dean reprised.
"A demon?" Sam offered.
"Doesn't look right - demons are like black smoke. This is...motor oil."
"Floating motor oil," Sam deadpanned.
"I'm just calling it like I see it," Dean said, throwing his hands in the air.
Matt didn't often wish he could see, not anymore - but right now was one of the times sight would come in handy. None of his other senses seemed to be able to tell him what the Winchester brothers were witnessing.
"Demons look like smoke?" he asked Az.
"When we're not possessing someone, yeah. But this thing is not a demon."
Matt concentrated harder on the...floating motor oil...but it was like he had dropped a figurine in a vat full of water. He fished around the water for the figure, and it kept bobbing against his hand, and he would almost get a grasp on an arm, or a leg, or a head, before it bobbed away again.
Sometimes the thing in the jar seemed to morph into a face, with snarling teeth, or with eyes squeezed shut - or he would catch sounds, a guttural growl or what sounded like sobbing.
"Gross," Az supplied, helpfully.
He didn't know what to make of it. He was so tired of being in over his head - he just wanted some solid information.
"What did you find downstairs?" he asked.
"A lot of progression charts, of different things," Sam answered, "Crime stats, records of criminal enterprises, illegal ledgers, receipts. Foggy was right - Bouvois has hands in rackets all over town."
Matt had to use every ounce of strength not to respond to that - he knew the Winchesters must have talked to Foggy and Lantom, logically, but it was startling to hear them refer to Foggy so casually.
"Progression charts?" he said instead.
"It seemed like they doing some sort of experiment? Probably on these guys. Subjecting them to torture, seeing how it affected them, or something." Sam nodded towards the bodies.
"They don't look like they've been tortured. There's not a mark on them," Dean responded.
He was right. The room stank of death, but aside from putrefying organs, Matt couldn't smell a single drop of blood or sense any physical injuries on the bodies. No poison. No electrical burns.
"Maybe they were testing out some sort of spell? Upgrading their hex bags?" Sam offered.
"But why? And why keep charts?" Dean asked.
"What were on the charts?" Matt said.
"I didn't really understand all of it - but they talked about mental degradation, becoming less self-aware, and emotional capacity - things like that. It seemed really psychological, not really magical."
"What the hell?" Dean said.
No one had an answer. None of this made sense.
"Anything else?" Matt asked.
"A lot of books on alchemy. Transmutation. Magic circles," Dean answered.
"Alchemy?"
"Once again, this would be easier if you would just let down the Great Berlin Wall of Fort Knox, you know. Sharing information. Telling each other things. Exchanging recipes. Conspiri-"
"Okay, fine," Matt snapped, then did something completely reckless. Something Stick would have killed him for.
He let down the mental wall.
Immediately memories rushed together, meeting like two rivers and transforming into rapids. It happened in the blink of an eye, their two minds meshing together, processing information and memories and knowledge so fast they staggered slightly.
They were still separate. Matt knew which memories and thoughts were his, and which belonged to Az. But he felt raw and open. This was probably the most open he had been with anyone in his entire life. There were no secrets when you shared a brain. He just couldn't believe he was opening himself up to a demon. But honestly, it felt freeing. Keeping up a constant mental barrier in his own mind had been exhausting. Plus, at this point, boxing Az out seemed rather pointless. They already had an understanding, a trust. A bond. And despite himself, he was starting to like Az.
Okay, maybe not like. But not absolutely hate.
He didn't have time to focus on that, though, because as soon as his mind rewired itself to hold two lives inside it, he had an epiphany.
"Oh shit," Az said, coming to the same realization.
Then, "I told you we should have done this earlier."
"It's Wilson Fisk all over again," Matt breathed, causing Sam and Dean to look his way.
"Wilson Fisk, except about a million times worse. I mean, ninja goons vs demon goons? Demons are going to win that fight."
Matt didn't pause long enough to regret the snarky commentary opening his mind to Az included.
"Come again?" Dean asked impatiently.
"After Hell's Kitchen was destroyed, after the alien invasion, the city was in chaos. People were at an all time low. They were scared. They felt hopeless. Criminals like Fisk moved in and took advantage of that. They used people's fears against them, and made a profit from it."
Dean shook his head, "Okay? And? What does this have to do with any of this?"
"Bouvois is generating that - that fear, and hopelessness. Think about it - arms trade, drug deals, robberies, murder, muggings. She's perpetuating crimes all across the city. To create fear, and then to take advantage of it. And if she is trying to be the new Queen of Hell or something-" Sam and Dean passed a look as he said this, " -then that would be a great way to win some souls for hell."
Sam sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "That...that kind of makes sense. She's fixing what she thinks Crowley broke. Doing his job for him." He looked at Dean, who grunted in affirmative. There it was - that information they had withheld earlier, leaving Matt and Az in the Winchester's figurative dust at Gotham Market.
"I think this would be a good time for you to tell me what you really know," Matt said, quietly but firmly. The brothers passed another one of their looks - both Matt and Az were getting real tired of that particular little habit.
"Not much," Dean said - this time he was telling the truth.
Sam gulped once, "We've heard of Evangeline Bouvois before. She made some trouble down in hell. Apparently she tried to overthrow Crowley. Said he wasn't doing his job right."
"Crowley's idea of eternal torture was waiting in a never-ending line for the rest of all time. Hell used to be a little more...grisly. I think Bouvois was a fan of the retro version," Dean added.
"If those charts were really about torture, then I'd say yes," Sam said.
"Not to mention, you know, the pile of dead bodies right there," Matt tilted his head towards the bodies.
"That too," Dean said, managing to sound slightly sheepish.
"We still don't know what this is," Sam hovered his hand by the glass jar, the freakish not-demon monster still writhing about inside.
"Or how these people died - it's like they just dropped dead. I don't sm - see any blood or wounds on them," Matt quickly corrected himself. Most people didn't smell blood or sense wounds - they just saw them.
Suddenly Sam's heart started beating faster. His face must have changed, because Dean's next words were full of concern.
"Sammy, what is it?"
"Guys, I think this...I think this is a-"
"Wait," Matt cut him off, holding up a hand. He suddenly heard something in the warehouse. He could sense them. Nine of them. Demons.
"Shit."
"There's demons in the warehouse - nine of them."
"Great. Thanks for the heads up, Horns. The plan was to warn us before the demons got inside, you know, so we could leave first?"
Matt and Az felt the twinge of annoyance in unison, but Matt tried to school his face into a neutral expression.
"They just appeared. They probably teleported, or used magic somehow."
"Great. Well, the way I see it, there's only one way out of here." Dean slipped his pistol from inside his jacket and cocked it. Sam was still facing the thing in the jar.
Dean moved towards the door, but Matt stopped him.
"No. We can't let them know we're here."
"We don't have much of a choice, do we?"
Sam shook himself out of his trance, "No, he's right. If Bouvois knows we're onto her, it will make it that much harder to stop her."
Dean sighed, "Then what do you suggest we do?"
Matt pushed his senses around the building, "There's only one way in and out."
"Jesus. Please do not say the hallway from hell."
Matt hesitated.
"Jesus," Dean sighed, hanging his head.
"How are we going to get past those demons - you said there were nine?" Sam asked.
"I'm not even going to ask how you know that," Dean quipped.
Matt and Az came up with the idea together - it wasn't even a conversation. More like the ultimate brainstorm - one where the brains were actually linked in thought.
"We use that," Matt nodded towards the jar.
Inside, he thought he sensed momentary claws hands pressing against the glass before fading away, a jagged smile that turned into a grimace that turned into a formless mass, the smell of acrid smoke and blood, the rasping breaths - whatever this thing was, it belonged in that hallway from hell with the other monsters.
Matt was hoping that's where the demons downstairs would think it came from.