Work Text:
Matt caught the whisper of a cry of anguish at the edge of his own formidable hearing, so faint he thought he must have dreamed it at first. Intrigued, he got out of bed and onto his rooftop. Mist greeted him, blanketing his face with a thin veneer of humidity and dampening the city sounds, although he could still hear loud and clear the people shouting, singing, whispering, fucking, snorring… Matt tilted his head, occluding those familiar sounds as well as the sirens, the cars and pitter patter of rats.
There it was again. Not quite a cry for help, not quite a sigh of frustration. Matt deliberated whether it was worth suiting up. The person the voice belonged to might be out of the limits of his city, out of his jurisdiction, so to speak, which would explain why the sound was so faint. But Matt was intrigued, and he doubted he could just forget about it and go back to sleep. Matt checked the time, and found it to be just after 3 a.m.
"The witching hour," he chuckled to himself "Fitting."
Stripping down, Matt donned his devil suit and leaped outside, moving from rooftop to rooftop as he followed the little voice. It would be quiet sometimes, for minutes, an hour, then it would resume, and Matt had the impression the person, a man, was talking to himself.
What worried Matt was that despite getting closer, the voice grew only marginally stronger. Whoever it was had to be in a soundproof room with very thick walls or far underground. Very, very far…
Eventually, Matt found himself in a cushy penthouse, luxury dripping from every corner. He was well past the limits of Hell's Kitchen, but curiosity had won out, and yet, Matt was nowhere closer to solving the mystery. Entering the loft had been easy despite the usual high-end security. Nothing could stop the devil when he wanted to go somewhere. It took him all of a few seconds to spot a vault, unoriginally hidden behind an expensive painting. One of those small safes to store paper, some money or jewelry. Not nearly big enough to fit a person, although that would have explained why the voice was so muffled. Matt really wanted to dismiss the notion as it was completely ridiculous, but the more he approached the hidden safe, the more he was convinced the voice came from inside.
Matt shook his head. He was insane. Had to be. Maybe he had hit his head harder than he thought during that explosion last week. That could have affected his hearing, or his brain.
But… he had to know. So, despite logic dictating he turn around and leave, Matt unhooked the painting and set it down, smiling at the old set up with a dial numeral combination lock. The task would be easy. Closing his eyes, Matt was all ears as he turned the dial right four times, then once more until the mechanism clicked into place. Then to the left, a click, and to the right until it clicked again. Matt took in a deep breath and tried to clear his conscience by convincing himself he was not here to steal anything, but merely doing a wealthfare check. If a tiny person was not locked inside, he would put everything back in place and leave, then maybe consult a doctor.
Matt pulled the door open and found only one object inside, or rather the shape of an object so black, it appeared to him like a void. This, he could not be imagining. And why an oil lamp, of all things? In a vault? And why the hell was it so dark?
Matt reached for it, but despite looking so strange through his eyes, it felt completely normal in his hands. Cold, metallic, somewhat heavy. The surface felt old too, full of scratches and bumps.
"Here we go again…" the voice he had been searching for complained, much louder than ever before, but still muffled.
Matt glanced around but it was just him. And the lamp.
"Hello?" Matt whispered at the oil lamp's entrance, feeling quite foolish.
If Foggy ever caught wind of what Matt was doing tonight, he was never going to let him live it down. Only… the voice answered.
"Hello? Are you talking to me?" The voice snorted. "That would be a first…"
No, seriously. Either Matt was crazy or there was someone in the lamp.
"Yes?" Matt replied uncertainly. "Maybe? Are you… in the lamp?"
Matt had to ask. He had to know. He also expected laughter and mocking, but it didn't come. Only silence.
"Well...yeah. Obviously . Isn't that why you bought the lamp? Or did you steal it by mistake? I've been in quite a few accidental burglaries. People think the lamp is made of gold or something..."
Matt could practically hear the eyeroll through the deprecating British accent. So… Matt was now holding an old oil lamp with someone inside… Tales of his childhood all pointed to one conclusion which was just as ridiculous as the rest of the night put together.
"Are you… a genie?" Matt asked.
"A djinn, technically. Genie is a cultural misappropriation by… oh, never mind. Just rub the lamp already, get your wish, and bugger off. Talking from inside is giving me a headache. How are you even doing that? No one hears me usually when I'm locked in."
"Locked in?" Matt repeated. "Are you… a prisoner?"
Now this was more familiar territory. Unfortunately, he had no time to explore it. The lights buzzed on and an alarm went off. Matt had no idea whose house this was, only that it held a prisoner. Instinct kicked in and he ran for it. Saving the innocent was paramount, no matter how small he was or if he was a different… species?
It was too late to go back now anyway. Matt would have to live with the fact he was now a burglar. He would go to confession. It would be fine…
As much as Matt tried not to mix his two lives, or bring work back home, he had nowhere else to bring the djinn to. He set the oil lamp carefully on his coffee table and sat on his couch, contemplating it and whether he should take off his suit. Maybe the djinn would be hostile? Better keep it on then. Matt didn't know how well the armor would resist to surpernatural attacks, but better than his cotton clothes he imagined.
"Finally," the djinn said. "I thought I was gonna throw up. What did you do? Run a marathon?"
"Something like that. I guess you were right about the accidental burglaries. I sort of ran away with your lamp."
Silence. Matt wondered how angry the djinn was, but he did say he was a prisoner. Although... did this count as kidnapping? Matt sighed. His next confession would be a long one.
"Speaking of lamp, would you mind very much rubbing it so I can get out?" the Djinn demanded.
Matt recalled the Djinn said talking from inside the lamp gave him a headache, and apparently, he had been jostled pretty bad during his flight back home, so it was the least Matt could do. Standing at a safe distance in case of an attack, Matt leaned over and rubbed the side of the lamp. He expected darkness as black as the lamp to spew out, so Matt was surprised when it was instead the whitest form of fire.
Surprised, and relieved too. Nothing this pure and bright could be bad, right? But the way the fire swirled, confined into a humanoid shape, but barely contained, showed immense power too. It was frightening in another way.
When the fire took on a more defined form, it took the shape of a young man who looked normal as far as he could tell. Or at least the top half. His legs were made of darker smoke and connected him to the lamp"s spout. Matt stepped closer, hoping for a better look at the djinn's face. Human. Definitely human.
"You're human," Matt stated.
"Used to be. You're the first one to spot it. Guess I shouldn't be surprised since you're also the first one to speak to me inside the lamp too. What are you ?"
"Human," Matt chuckled, relieved in truth he had more in common with this person than he would have had with a supernatural entity.
Taking a chance, Matt took off his mask and looked in the other man's direction.
"I'm Matt. It's nice to meet you, I guess. If you don't mind the kidnapping."
Matt couldn't read the Djinn's expression but the way he tilted his head… he was puzzled? Not angry in any case, so Matt waited him out.
"I'm Harry. It is nice to meet you. You're… different. And I'm not just talking about your fashion sense."
Matt smiled, relieved the kidnapping was, in fact, a rescue.
"So…" Harry ventured. "Do you just want to go straight to business and get your wish? Or are you still thinking about it?"
"That's real?" Matt asked with no amount of disbelief. "The wishes?"
"Just the one. And I can't raise the dead, or make people fall in love."
"Anything else… I just ask it and you grant it?" Matt could hardly believe it. He could see again. "How? How is that possible?"
"Magic," Harry replied bitterly.
Well… yes. Matt knew. He had seen the djinn of fire come out of the lamp of darkness… it defied all rational explanation. Of course it was magic.
"Can I… think about it?" Matt asked.
"Sure."
Matt left to prepare coffee in the kitchen, because there was no way he was going back to sleep tonight, then he went to his bedroom to strip out of the suit and back into lawyer clothes. Harry was no threat. A bit short tempered, but who would blame him? Now that the shock had passed, Matt had a lot more questions to ask him. He returned to the kitchen, grabbed a cup of coffee and sat back on his couch. Harry had drifted from his lamp, but not far, looking out the window at the city sprawled in front of him.
"Nice view" Harry commented. "Where are we?"
"New York."
Harry hummed noncommittally and drifted back to face Matt. Harry was fidgeting as if he was nervous. He was so… human. Matt cleared his throat, unsure where to begin.
"Can we talk? Before we deal with the wishing part, or is that not allowed?"
Matt decided honesty was the best policy. "No. Sure. We can do that. Nobody usually wants to, but you've been weird since the beginning, so why not? Go ahead."
"You said you were human before. Would you mind telling me how you became a djinn?"
Harry sighed and drifted next to him on the couch where he sort of sat, only not because his bottom half was made of smoke.
"I was a wizard. Powerful. Made loads of enemies by stopping dark wizards and witches."
Wizards and witches? Matt knew he shouldn't be surprised at this point, but what the hell?
"One of them got back at me. To be honest, I'm not even sure who, but they sure wanted to make me suffer. What year is it?"
Matt blinked at the sudden question, although it made sense since he had been imprisoned in his lamp in a safe for God knew how long.
"2018."
"It feels longer. Feels like an eternity." Harry chuckled bitterly. "Anyway, they found this old artefact and the spell to bind me to it, then threw me in the Muggle world to do people's bidding."
"The wish?" Matt asked and Harry nodded. "You grant that wish and then what?"
"Then I return to the lamp and wait for the next person to find me. Tonight, that's you. I gotta admit you're nicer than most. Making an effort to chit chat, even if you're not offering me a cuppa, but I always heard Americans had no manners."
Matt froze at his last words.
"You can drink? You're… tangible?" Matt asked curiously.
"Tangy-what?"
Matt's lips quirked in amusement.
"Solid? I thought you were more… ghost-like."
"Well, I'm not see-through, am I?"
"I wouldn't know," Matt shrugged.
"Are you blind?" Harry asked in jest.
They stared at each other for a moment. More or less. Matt was looking in his direction, trying to make out his features or if he was indeed staring at him.
"Wait… are you?" Harry drifted closer and Matt could feel the slight shift in the air, but Harry had no scent. It made no sense. With a nod at the djinn's question, Matt raised a hand towards Harry's face, asking permission to map out his face.
"May I?"
It was just a ruse in reality. What Matt truly wanted was to check a few things out about the djinn without having to rely on his word. For his part, Harry froze, tilted his head to look at his hand, then nodded.
"Ah… yes. But I don't understand," Harry said. "The way you move, you don't look blind. I mean… oh, bugger. This is coming out all wrong."
Matt chuckled at his poor wording. Harry reminded him a bit of Foggy when he got flustered by womanly wiles.
"Don't worry about it. Yes, I am blind, but I have my own kind of magic, if you will. I see in another way, but I cannot see your face…"
"Oh, right," Harry said and stopped fidgeting.
Matt's fingers made contact with the Djinn. His skin was warm, like cooling embers and just as solid as he had claimed. Matt's fingers first travelled to the underside of his chin to find a beating pulse. Interesting. Then they travelled up. Harry's skin did feel unnaturally smooth, but maybe Harry just had an exceptional skin care routine in his oil lamp… Matt's fingers flitted over his lips, feeling for fangs but finding none. What Matt did find, perched on the djinn's normal nose, were glasses. Seriously? A powerful supernatural being with glasses .
"Oh, sorry. Do you want me to take them off?" Harry asked.
Unless they were sunglasses?
"Are they for reading?" Matt asked cautiously.
"For seeing in general. I'm blind as a bat without them… Oh, fuck! I'm sorry! I didn't mean…"
Matt smiled as best he could, disturbed as he was by the enigma that Harry posed.
"It's fine," Matt reassured him.
His perusal resumed to the sides. Ears. Normal, not pointy. Then up again. The forehead had a small lightning bolt shape which was interesting by its shape but not much else. Maybe a scar? Finally, most importantly, Matt ran his hands through Harry's thin, messy hair, feeling for horns.
Nothing.
There was absolutely nothing demonic about Harry.
"Thank you," Matt said, dropping his hands. "Would you like some coffee then?"
"Don't suppose you have tea?" Harry ventured.
Matt chuckled and replied in the negative. What kind of lawyer could function drinking tea ? Coffee was the only way. Harry gratefully accepted the cup of steaming coffee anyway. Matt watched in some fascination at the being made of brilliant fire and dark smoke do something as mundane as drinking coffee on his couch.
"I don't have to make a wish right now, right?" Matt asked.
"Well, no," Harry admitted. "But most people don't like to wait. Everybody has at least one thing they really want."
Matt nodded to the truth of that. And yet… what if he asked to see again? Would he still be the same Matt Murdoch, attorney at law? Would he be the Devil of Hell's Kitchen at all? Would it be for the better or the worse? It wasn't something Matt could ask for lightly, not when it would change his whole life.
"I'd rather think about it. You can stay here in the meantime. I don't get a lot of visitors, so make yourself at home."
Harry seemed relieved by the delay. He stopped fidgeting and his pulse slowed down to a normal beat. However, Matt was not sure if this reaction was due to the djinn's fear of returning to the oil lamp after the wish was done or because he was hiding something from him. Either way, Matt would find out. He always did.
Matt went to work early, leaving Harry to float around his flat on his own. It was a strange and new feeling for Matt to have someone waiting back home for his return, someone whom he didn't need to lie to about who he was. It was… nice. But it was only possible because Harry was as much of a freak as Matt was.
"Don't make a wish!" Harry blurted out as soon as Matt opened the door, taking him aback.
"Good evening to you too," Matt replied with some amusement. "Is there a reason why I shouldn't make a wish?"
"I think so. I'm rarely there after the wish, of course. Bit useless once I'm done since I can only grant the one, but… I don't think the wishes work as well as they're supposed too. And it's not my doing. I think the wishes are cursed, just as much as I am."
Matt considered Harry's words. He had been looking at legends of djinns and what Harry had just confessed to aligned with some of his research.
"Why didn't you tell me before?" Matt asked, wondering if he would have gone through with the wish if he had made it sooner.
Harry fidgeted. A sign of guilt then.
"I've been doing this for a while now, and I haven't met the best people. Honestly, they've been awful, and I had kinda given up on Humanity as a whole…" Harry raked a hand through his hair. "But you've been nice. I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt and warning you there might be a catch. I could be wrong, though."
"Do you have the names of your former... wishers," Matt asked, wondering if he could prove it one way or another.
Harry snorted.
"They treated me like shit. You really think they bothered to introduce themselves?"
Ah. That was a good point. The last one had basically locked Harry up in solitary for an undetermined amount of time and would have probably done so forever, which was a form of torture according to the United Nations.
"So what makes you think your wishes turned sour?" Matt asked.
"You know, most people ask for money," Harry said. "They think money solves everything… I'll grant that wish and they'll get it. If they play the lottery, they'll get a winning ticket, or they'll inherit from an old rich relative they didn't even know they had, or they'll dig up their garden and find a treasure…" Harry rolled his eyes. "I just snap my fingers. I don't decide how all of this turns out. Anyway, I know one of them was killed in a robbery, and another lost all his money on the stock market and commited suicide. Another one… well, she really liked marble and put it all over her new house. She slipped and broke her neck."
Silence fell between them. Was Harry confessing to murder, in a very circumvoluted way? If Harry knew the fates of his wishers ended in death, granting the wish could be considered a death sentence.
"Could just be coincidence…" Harry offered desperately.
"One, maybe two…" Matt said, trying to keep anger at bay until he knew for sure what sort of person Harry was. "Do you have to grant the wish? Or can you just not grant it?"
"As long as the person says "I wish', I'm compelled to grant it. I don't have a choice in the matter. Why?" A beat, then Harry became agitated again. "You think I wanted to kill them… or you?"
Harry choked then became all smoke and disappeared into his lamp so fast, it spun on itself and topped over the side of the coffee table. With a sigh, Matt walked over and picked it up.
"I'm sorry, okay?" Matt said. "It's just that one of the first things you told me was to make my wish."
"I just thought you were another asshole. Your demon suit didn't help matters, just so you know."
"Fair point."
And Harry did tell him not to make his wish in the end.
"Can you come out. I have something to tell you," Matt said.
"You've gotta rub the lamp, mate. I can go in whenever I want, but not out."
Made sense. Just like a prison. Matt rubbed the lamp half-heartedly and Harry leaped out, hovering in front of him.
"I've been reading up on your kind," Matt said.
"On wizards?"
"On djinns. That's what you are, currently."
Harry nodded reluctantly.
"According to some legends, there is one way to free a djinn from his bonds of servitude."
"Really?"
H
arry's head perked up in interest.
"Yes. The wisher has to use one of the wishes, or the only one according to you, to free the djinn."
"Like anyone's going to waste their wish on me," Harry scoffed.
"Your cursed wish, you mean?"
"You've got a point. So you're saying… you will use your wish to free me?"
"Well, I'm not going to use it to become rich, that's for sure," Matt said.
"But, the curse…" Harry objected.
"Yes, from there, it can go three ways. You're free, but cursed. You're free, but I 'm cursed. Or you're free and we broke the curse."
"I like that option better. But I'll even take the first option. I'd rather die than be a djinn for all eternity. This isn't a life… not even close. Question is, are you willing to risk getting cursed?"
"Do you know why I wear the devil suit?" Matt asked back.
"Because you're into some kinky stuff I probably don't want to know about?"
Matt's cheeks flushed a little. Is that what it looked like? He shook his head.
"I'm a vigilante. I go out at night to save the innocent. That's why I went out looking for a little voice locked up somewhere. That's how I found you, and why I brought you back. The only thing left for me to do is to set you free."
Harry was silent for so long, his heart hammering, that Matt wished he could see his face to know what he was thinking.
"No," Harry finally said.
"What do you mean no?"
"Don't do it. It's not worth it. I'm not worth it. I'll be fine. If you don't mind me hanging in your flat, out of the lamp, it will even be bearable. I'll be fine."
"You said it wasn't living. 'Not even close' were your exact words," Matt argued.
"But-"
"You can't stop me," Matt said with the same self-satisfied smile he sported when he won a case.
"No! Don't-"
"I wish to give you freedom, Harry."
Harry stiffened, fighting with himself when his hand slowly rose, his fingers curling. His other hand grasped it, trying to stop himself, but Matt could see a tendril of the dark smoke curl around his snapping fingers. Harry truly had no choice. He was, for all intents and purposes, a tool.
"Wish…" Harry muttered through clenched teeth, fighting it to the very end. "Gr… granted."
And then his fingers snapped.
The dark smoke coiling around Harry was siphoned back into the lamp while he grew legs as bright as the rest of him. In a few seconds, it was done and Harry fell on to the floor. Matt blinked down at him, glanced at the lamp, still as ominous and dark as before, then back at Harry.
"That was a bit anticlimactic," Matt commented drily as he offered Harry a hand up.
Harry's skin was cooler, but a normal temperature for a human. Heartbeat a little too fast but normal, considering…
"Well, I'm not complaining." Harry patted himself down, as if reassuring himself he was back to normal. "It's over. I can't believe it. Matt…" Harry put his hands over his shoulders then pulled him into a tight hug. "Thank you. Thank you so much."
"Don't thank me yet. We might still die of some horrible, unfortunate death," Matt replied, smiling despite his dire warning.
"We should make the most of it then," Harry decided, holding him at arm's length once more.
"And what's that?"
"Well, I'm dying for some pizza right now."
Matt laughed. He hoped Harry would stay for a while so he could get to know his human and wizard sides too. After all, Harry knew both sides of him and didn't seem to mind, which was such a rarity, Matt was reluctant to let Harry go despite having just freed him.
"Tempting," Matt agreed.
"Isn't that supposed to be your job, Mr Devil?"
Matt smiled devilishly at Harry. If he wanted temptation, Matt was going to give him temptation.