My Devil

Chapter 7

He had been angry before, rage-fuelled and vengeful. He had been motivated by grief and fear and every other kind of emotion he could have thought of. But this was rage he had never felt before, fear he had never felt before. He had been hurt before, beaten and bruised. But no physical pain could compare to this. They had taken Y/N. He had hoped that after that night in the church, where she had confessed her sorrow at his supposed death, she would have been able to heal, move on, become safe. But once again the world, God, whatever, had left him disappointed and devastated. He had lost too much to the likes of Fisk and those underneath him. Kidnapping - and Matt dreaded to think what else - the single most valuable person to Matt was the final straw. The phone that Foggy had called him on was now smashed on the floor from where he had thrown it against the wall in rage. Calling was not an option. Who would he even call? Foggy couldn't help, nor Karen; he wouldn't put them in danger either way. There was no one who could help him and any plan that he might have once had was gone out of the window. Using the wall to stable himself, Matt got to his feet, teeth gritted and his tears threatening to fall. Y/N was no longer here to wipe them away, and Matt decided there and then she would never be put in this position again. Once he had found her, he would leave, properly. He would end this for good and vanish, his friends would never be put in the position they were currently in; lying to everyone and in danger. Y/N would never risk her life so someone could get to him again. He was done. He had only got his anger left to give. Fisk was done for. He would let the Devil out.

Matt felt a strange sense of familiarity as he pulled down the black mask, a sense that he was back where he had once started before all of this. The visions of his father, Fisk and Y/N followed him as he took each painful step up to the roof where he could get a better view of the city, where he could listen for any sign of Y/N. There was no point going back to the apartment; he knew who had taken her, there would be no clue that would aid his search better than his own hearing. He must have sat on that roof for hours, straining his hearing as far as it could take him, ignoring any other siren or scream out there. It filled him with guilt but there was nothing that he could do to help those people knowing that Y/N was in danger. He could only hope that in order to torture him they would keep her alive for a time.

There.

What was that?

A faint and familiar cry.

No, a scream.

Filled with pain and suffering and one Matt had hoped he would never have to hear.

But he couldn't quite pinpoint it.

Wait.

His head cocked to one side, honing in on the noise over all others.

"I love you Matt" the voice was barely above a whisper, it would have struggled to have been heard by anyone in the room it came from let alone Matt whose ears were now fine-tuned to that voice.

His feet were moving before he was even really aware of it, one in front of the other across the rooftops and towards the intermittent screams. All the while he listened.

"Where is he?"

"He. Is. Dead. I. Told. You. "

Smack. Scream. "Stop lying!"

"Even if, by some fucking miracle he was alive" breathy panting "he hasn't told me, hasn't seen me, hasn't anything me, so why the HELL would I know where he is?!"

Smack. An angry bellow. An angry but pained scream.

"It doesn't even matter you know"

"What?"

"He's gonna come save you and your bitch ass, he'll come to us, and while we wait, your all mine"

The sound of spitting, at the captor? Or blood out of the mouth it was hard to tell. "You can dress like him all you fucking want, you'll never be him, I'll never be yours.'