Sorry for the long wait for this chapter. I had several ideas which direction to take the story here, but the story kind of took its own direction. I hope you like it! Thank you so much for reading, and for all the follows/faves, and reviews! They mean a lot to me and help me keep writing! Anyway, here ya go -

Claire's entire body and facial expression said "Go screw yourself, I don't believe a word you're saying, you lunatic," but she just nodded and asked more questions when Dean tried to explain magic and witches and demons to the nurse.

The information they had gotten from Perez wasn't mind-blowingly helpful, but it was a start. Kind of. He had been assaulted during his walk home from work, bound and gagged, thrown in the back of a truck and driven to some warehouse. He didn't know where, and couldn't describe the building. The other men had already been in the truck when he was abducted. When the truck finally stopped moving, the door only opened for a moment before a woman was stepping inside and speaking to them. He didn't remember much after that, just feelings of rage and confusion. There were a few blurry memories of wandering the streets, of fighting someone - all he could say was that it might have been Daredevil, he couldn't remember.

"Do you remember anything specific, at all? Just a smell, or an image could be helpful," Sam coaxed while Dean rolled his eyes.

Perez worried his lip, "I'm sorry...I can remember...there was a big green sign, like a billboard, on the side of the building...and...this sounds crazy, but it smelled like barbecue."

So, not really helpful, at all.

He did give a description of the woman though, which pretty much matched up with what Foggy had shown them on his computer back in Matt's flat.

Again, not super helpful.

But they had saved someone from an evil spell, so there was that.

And now Dean was talking to a very attractive, very capable nurse with a no-bullshit, straight-forward attitude that was definitely doing something for him. Normally he would be chatting her up, trying to maybe get some digits, or at least take her out for a drink - but he just wasn't feeling it. He was having trouble just staying focused on their present case. Because Cas was still out there, and Dean just knew something bad had happened to him. Since when did bad things not happen to them? It was just a fact of life now.

"Have you seen this man, by any chance?" Sam said, snapping Dean out of his worried musings.

Sam pulled out the photograph of Matt Murdock and showed it to Claire, who jolted for a second in surprise before schooling her expression back to neutral.

"Why? Who is he?"

"His name is Matt Murdock. His friends are actually the ones that called us up here. He's been possessed by a demon and seems to have vanished."

"He's possessed?" Claire almost barked. Sam raised his eyebrows at Dean.

"We haven't met him yet, but that's what his friends told us," Sam answered.

"Yeah, but apparently he can control the demon, whatever that means. They won't accept he's long gone," Dean added.

"But you can just exorcise him right? That's what you guys do." Claire stared at them, eyes hard.

"That's not the problem. The problem is he's been injured. Badly. When a person is possessed, the demon can continue to animate their body even after...they've died. Then they just become an empty shell," Sam said gently, shooting Dean a look.

Claire's nostrils were flared, and her eyes darted frantically around the room as she ran a hand through her hair. Her lips were moving, muttering something to herself to quiet for the brothers to hear.

"Claire. Claire," Sam got her attention, "Do you know this guy?"

"How badly is he injured?"

"What?"

"How is he hurt?" She shouted, quickly quieting her voice and nervously tapping a fist to her lips, "There's a theory on how to treat trauma patients whose wounds are bad enough they would die in normal surgery. But I need details."

Sam stared at her for a moment, "Claire, I don't think you understand…"

"Matt is still alive, and his body is being preserved, or animated, by a demon, right?"

"Well, his friend thinks he's still in there, but-"

"Wait, wait. How do you know this guy?" Dean interrupted.

"We're….friends," Claire answered, glancing to the side.

"Listen. He's in danger. He's putting other people in danger. Do you know where he is? We need to find him."

"I still don't understand how Matt is caught up in all this...spells, and witches? I'm still trying to wrap my head around this!"

"You don't need to wrap your head around it. Just tell us where he is," Dean said. Sam shot him a disapproving look. It hardly rivaled the glare Claire was giving him.

"What are you going to do if you find him?"

The brothers hesitated for a moment before Sam spoke up, "We'll exorcise the demon."

"The demon that's currently keeping his body from dying? What about Matt?"

"I'm not sure what we can do for him, at this point."

"If Foggy says Matt is still in control I believe him. You might know demons and magic, but you don't know Matt like I do. He's saved too many people in this city, he deserves to get saved now. So when I ask what you're going to do when you find him, there's only one answer I want to hear - that you're going to help me save him. If that's not the answer, you can leave."

She had her hands on her hips, her brows up and her jaw set.

Dean groaned and ran a hand down his face, "This would all be so much easier if Cas were here."

Sam huffed a laugh, "Tell me about it."

Claire was still glaring, waiting for an answer. Dean liked Claire, but he didn't want to deal with this right now. There was a witch running around killing people, corrupting their souls, running crime rings and sending demons out to terrorize the city, and they were getting chewed out by a nurse. Over one possessed dude. Frankly, they didn't have time to track down this guy and figure out how to save him - not if they wanted to save the city. Because the more they looked into this case the more Dean got a sick feeling in his gut something big, and bad, was coming.

"What do you mean, he's saved people?" Sam asked.

Claire paused for a just a moment before answering, "He's a lawyer. He speaks up for the people in Hell's Kitchen who don't get heard. He and Foggy took out Wilson Fisk - you know what, it doesn't matter. I've got other patients, and you've probably got other magicky, demon-hunting things to do. I don't know where Matt is. But if I find out anything, I'll call you. Do you have phone numbers, or do I need a summoning circle and some Latin to contact you?"

Sam laughed, Dean rolled his eyes. They exchanged numbers, with a promise they would call her as soon as they found out anything about Matt.

They strolled out of the hospital, headed for the familiar sleek black body of the Impala as they ditched their doctor coats and Dean fished the keys out of his pocket.

"She's definitely hiding something."

"Yeah, I got that. But what?"

"I don't know, but Foggy was hiding something too. He kept saying Matt had special training or something? And why would he let his demon possessed friend out of the apartment? A lot of things aren't adding up here."

"So, we should probably pay Foggy a visit?"

"Sounds like a plan, little brother."

Matt was asleep. So was Azirale. Foggy didn't know if one of them could be awake while the other slept, or not, or if they really even needed to sleep at all. Matt was exhausted, and Azirale had seemed excited about the prospect of experiencing human sleep patterns. However it worked, they were completely out of it, and he was just glad he didn't have to talk to either of them at the moment.

These past few days had been exhausting, and Foggy wished he could pass out on the couch like Matt and his little demon, but he had work to do. Karen had picked up their slack these past few days, and although Az liked making digs about their lack of clients, they did have some people that really needed their legal help.

Foggy felt his eyes closing as he nodded over paperwork, working at the kitchen table with his second cup of coffee to keep him company. His pen fell loose in his grip and left a stray mark on the paper before he jerked back into awareness. His eyelids felt like they weighed a hundred pounds each as he struggled to keep them open and read over what he had just written. A groan escaped him when he realized the lines were barely legible and completely unusable.

There was a sound by the door, but for a second his tired brain told him to ignore it, to lay his head on the table and let someone else deal with it. But then the actual smart part of his brain reminded him of demons and witches and vigilantes and criminals and he jumped out of his chair, toppling it to the ground with a clatter.

Matt, or Az, or Matt/Az - sat straight up on the couch like they'd been electrocuted.

"What's going on?" Matt asked.

"Winchesters," Az answered, cutting Matt off and garbling their words together. Two voices trying to speak from the same mouth sounded a bit like someone having a stroke, but Foggy got the gist of it.

"Foggy?" a voice came from the door.

This was too much for him to deal with right now - he just really, really wanted a nap.

But he lugged his weary bones to the front door, which to his surprise he already found open. Sam and Dean Winchester were standing just inside his entryway, looking as startled as he did.

"Did...did you guys just break into my apartment?"

Dean stared at him wide-eyed, then glanced down at the lockpicks still clutched in his hands, then back at Foggy.

"Uh...no."

Sam elbowed Dean, who muttered something under his breath, which prompted Sam to whisper something back, and for a moment it seemed the two brothers had completely forgotten Foggy was there.

"What are you guys doing here? Is everything okay? Did...did you find Matt?"

"No. But we ran into your friend Claire at the hospital."

"You met Claire?" Foggy exclaimed, "Wait - why were you at the hospital?"

"We were talking to one of the guys Evangeline kidnapped and turned into an attack dog. He didn't know anything."

"Well, his description matched the pictures you showed us, so at least we know we're on the right track."

Dean rolled his eyes, "Yeah. That and the smell of barbecue. We're on fire."

Foggy squinted and massaged his temples - his confusion was overwhelming his sense of panic.

"Wait...barbecue? What - no, nevermind. I can't believe you just broke into my house."

Dean shrugged, pocketing his lockpicks and strolling in like he owned the place, "Sorry, amigo, didn't know you were home."

Foggy fought his instinct to block Dean from entering - he didn't want to look suspicious, and he was sure Matt had left as soon as Foggy left the room. Of course, he had been the one trying to convince Matt to meet with the Winchesters; but now, thinking what would happen if they ran into each other unexpectedly in Foggy's living room, Foggy couldn't help but agree they needed more strategy when dealing with these two brothers.

"So you were just going to break in, make yourselves at home, and...what? Search my place? Rifle through my underwear?"

Sam bumped shoulders with Foggy as he walked past - well, they didn't really bump shoulders, seeing that Sam was about fifty feet taller than Foggy. It was more like colliding with a brick wall.

But the antagonism came through clear as day.

"If we did search your place, what would we find?" Sam asked, nonchalantly glancing around the room. Foggy couldn't help but give it a good once over, himself. Matt, the suit, and the bandages were all gone. But that didn't mean there was some incriminating sign of Matt's presence still hidden away somewhere, waiting for the Winchesters to spot it.

"Um...a lot of boring paperwork. Underwear. Probably the other half of my socks, if you look hard enough. I've never been able to find them."

"Claire told us some interesting things at the hospital. About Matt."

Foggy gulped, "Uh...okay? Like what?"

Dean and Sam were circling him, eyeing him like tigers about to dig into prey. Foggy had seen this look before - in the courtroom. And if these two brothers thought they could intimidate him with words, they had another thing coming. It was obvious they suspected something, but Foggy wasn't sure what.

"About his special training, that you're so sure gives him immunity to demon possession."

Foggy relaxed. They didn't know anything. They were just trying to badger it out of him.

"I told you guys, when he was in the orphanage, there was this weird old man who taught him how to meditate and stuff!"

"Meditation isn't enough to resist demon possession."

"Well, that's all I really know."
Suddenly Sam was in front of him, squaring his shoulders, "We're here to help you, Foggy. We're trying to help Matt. But unless we know everything, there's not a lot we can do."

Foggy shrugged, "I don't know what to tell you, man."

Sam's face twisted, angry, and yeah - a little scary - but suddenly Dean smacked him on the arm.

"Sammy, let's go. He obviously doesn't know anything."

Sam gave Dean a startled look, turning around to face Dean, who was standing by the couch looking at his phone.

"Let's go check out the next warehouse on the list. On 40th."

"Dean, wha…"

"Come on, let's go. Let's stop wasting time here."

Dean clapped Sam on the shoulder and walked out without so much as another look at Foggy. Sam sputtered for a moment before following his brother out, slamming the door behind him.

"What the fuck…"Foggy breathed slowly. The apartment was strangely calm, suddenly empty of all tension from a few seconds ago. Then suddenly there was a faint clatter at the window, and Foggy saw a shadow pass over the glass before it suddenly vanished.

He ran to the window and threw it open, resisting the urge to shout. Instead, in a normal speaking volume, he called out, "Matt! Wait!"

Nothing.

"Matt! Azirale! Get back here you bastards!"

Nothing.

With a sigh, he closed the window and trudged back to his sofa, unable to shake the sense of unease that settled over him since the Winchesters barged in. They obviously suspected Matt of something, but what? Did they know he was Daredevil? How much had Claire told them?

He was pulling his phone out to call her when he noticed something on the couch. Blood.

Not a lot. A few dark, discolored red drops.

Not to mention the squashed pillow where someone had obviously been laying their head.

Foggy put his hand on the cushion - it was still warm from where Matt had been sleeping.

He groaned - of course Dean had noticed that. But why not call Foggy out about it right there? Why run off?

Foggy's heart started hammering a little faster - Dean hadn't just run off. He had told Sam exactly where they were going.

Had told Matt exactly where they were going.

He turned back to the window, staring past the glass panes and into the night, the thin, watery darkness swirling through the city lit by the occasional sickly yellow street lamps. What if Dean had seen Matt lurking out there on the fire escape? Had he put his suit back on? How much did they know?

However much they knew, Dean was definitely luring Matt into a trap.

"God damn it, Murdock," Foggy cursed, grabbing a jacket. So much for getting that paperwork done. Karen was going to kill him. Kill both of them - that is, if the Winchesters didn't kill Matt first.