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This was every hero-with-a-secret identity's worst nightmare. Kilgrave had been terrorizing Hell’s Kitchen for months. No one would, or-as Matt quickly learned- could say no to him. With no one stopping him he was free to steal, loot, destroy, abuse, and kill whoever and however he pleased. Daredevil’s biggest mistake was thinking he had outsmarted him. It turns out, it's not hard to figure out someone’s secret identity when you can make everyone around you do exactly as you please.
And it pleased Kilgrave a great deal to find out Daredevil was just a blind lawyer at a struggling law firm with only two co-workers. He hadn't even needed to ask around to find out who he cared about. It was only those two that stuck around anyway.
All it took to lure Daredevil into an abandoned church was asking Karen and Foggy to follow him and hold knives to their own throats. He had then tied Daredevil to a chair, ripped his mask off, and had Karen and Foggy sit on the pews in the front row to patiently wait for the main event.
Matt didn’t need to see to know Kilgrave had a crooked smile slashed across his face. “You know, I really thought you’d be a better challenge.” He gestures at him with something, probably one of the knives Foggy and Karen had just been holding to their own throats. “The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.” He snorted.
Matt snarled at him.
“You might still be fun yet.” He grabbed the back of Matt’s chair and started dragging him. “Stay put you two, we’ll be right back.” There were no restraints on either of them, but Matt could smell salt in the air. The Devil coiled in his gut.
Kilgrave dragged him to what once was a confessional. It was barely a wooden box with a mesh divider now. Everything else was gutted. He deposited Matt in the parishioner's side and took the Priest's side for himself. There was no amount of self-control that would soothe Matt’s rage. He knew where this was going. It wasn't going to be pretty either.
Kilgrave must have noticed, because he said, “Oh, calm down.” Matt hated it, but he did. His body did, anyway. His face relaxed, jaw unclenched, hell even his adrenaline went down. The Devil in his mind though, it was running wild. Rage-fueled thoughts clashed with his body. The difference was anxiety-inducing on top of the white-hot fury.
“Now Matthew-or should I call you Daredevil?” His lips sketched into a cruel smirk. “Which do you prefer?” Matt held his jaw closed by sheer willpower. There was an implication, but no actual command. He could resist. “Come on, answer the question.”
“Daredevil.” The word is torn from his throat even as his mouth and jaw were kept loose from the previous command.
“Good to know. Thank you, Matthew.” If he could, his teeth would be set on edge. “Now, before we get to everything else, I must know. Are you really blind? Cause if not, good show, really. You nearly had me fooled.”
“Yes,” This was easier to answer. He hated ableist assholes. He loved proving them wrong. It's not information he liked to freely give, but it didn’t sting as bad. “I’m really blind. No light reception. I have been since I was a kid.”
“Wow.” The suit Kilgrave wore rustled as he jostled his head more in a bob than a nod. “Impressive. I’m curious about all that, how you do,” fingernails tapped on the divider, “This whole thing, but we’ll get to that in due time.” A chuckle bubbled out of Kilgraves throat. It was reminiscent of a witches’ cauldron in old cartoons. “Right now, what I really want to know is simple.” Cruelty laced his voice. “What is the worst thing you could do at this very moment?”
Matt stiffened. The Devil crashed against his voice, trying to stop his body from betraying him. The words gagged him, choked him. He’d rather die than fall in line with this. Straining to disobey wasn’t working. His body was rebelling against his mind. All he could do was keep it vague. “Hurt those that are innocent. The people I love. Do nothing as evil reigns.”
“Oh now isn’t that sweet?” Kilgrave tsked at him. “Predictable though, really.” Matt’s blood ran cold. “Now, I think I know the answer to this, but I want to hear you say it. Do you love Nelson and Page?” Amusement and sadism mixed in his voice as naturally as blood and tears.
“Yes.” He said it himself, he already knew this. Saying it still felt like signing their death warrants.
A dark chuckle rippled through the mesh, worming its way into his ears. “Let me be clear, Matthew, do you love either of them? Romantically, physically, sexually?” He waggled his eyebrows, skin stretching and contracting much as Matt’s heart was.
He didn’t know yet. Matt didn’t want him to know. He couldn’t know. As it was, his body was forced to betray his mind. “Yes.” Matt wanted to scream, wanted to punch something.
“Which one?” Impatience was creeping into the mix of sadism and glee. He thought Matt was resisting. Matt wished he was.
“Both.” He managed to grit his teeth, but it did little to stop the word from leaving him.
The dark chuckle turned into a full-on laughing fit. Matt wanted to die on the spot. It’d be better than whatever horrible things Kilgrave had planned. “You, a good little altar boy, and you’re fucking your business partner and your secretary. That’s rich.” Kilgrave mockingly wiped a tear from his eye. “I can’t wait to have you tell them. Nothing better than a cheater. I would know, I’ve made many.”
Matt smiled with the Devil. “They already know.” Kilgrave couldn’t hurt him that way. It was a small win, but he’d take it.
It worked. Kilgrave stopped, presumably blinking at him. “Maybe you aren’t so predictable after all.” His little victory didn’t last long. “That makes you more fun.” Kilgrave took a moment to crack his neck. Matt wanted nothing more than to help him do so. “Are they innocents?”
Matt exhaled long through his nose, trying to resist giving the answer. It was only going to make him enjoy all this more. He couldn’t reveal Karen’s past though. In his eyes, and in the eyes of God, Karen was well forgiven for her mistakes. Wasn’t the same thing as innocent. Matt figured it’d be the same thing in Kilgrave’s view, and took a chance at the workaround answer. “Yes.” A small sigh of relief escaped him. At least this monster wouldn’t get to exploit everything.
“Brilliant!” Kilgrave slapped his legs enthusiastically. “Let’s get this show on the road then, yeah?” Unceremoniously, He exited his side and grabbed Matt’s chair again, dragging him until he was in front of Karen and Foggy.
Neither of them had moved. Their backs were still ram-rod straight against the pews. The wet saline had since dried. Matt’s stomach churned. Kilgrave could’ve ordered them to be calm too. He liked their fear, the sick bastard.
“Did you miss us?” Kilgraved asked, smiling at Karen and Foggy.
“Fuck you.” Karen spat. Her lips barely moved. The rest of her body was still perfectly still. Matt couldn’t help himself as her defiance brought a smirk to his face. Karen Page had her own devil, God help them both.
Tutting at her, Kilgrave smiled too. That took away the one Matt had mustered. He sauntered back over to him and knelt down. “You’re going to carve them up wearing that cocky grin you get when you beat up street thugs.” He whispered, before placing the helmet back on his head. “And don’t even think about touching me.” Cutting his restraints, Kilgrave prompted Matt to stand.
His heart pounded in his chest as he felt his lips curl against his will. A knife was placed in his hand. “Start with Ms. Page.” Feet moved under him, bringing him right in front of her. Even as she whimpered, his face stayed plastered in the Devil’s expression. He knelt in front of her, on one knee, in a mockery of a proposal he could never bring himself to do. There was no ring here, only a knife. A knife he had to use.
Kilgrave hadn’t said where or how badly to hurt them. As dull a silver lining as it was, he could control that. Gloved hands glided up her legs. No stockings today, only a pencil skirt. Delicately, he traced the knife down her calf. Its sharpness gave way to a steady stream of blood and a low whine from Karen.
It gutted him. The Devil raged against the commands, but he couldn’t stop. He continued. Thin slices littered her legs as screams reverberated off the church walls. Matt’s internal screaming echoed in his own heart. Despite its protests, the Devil’s grin stayed cemented on his face. Even his own tears couldn’t wash it away.
It felt like it was someone else’s hand doing this. He desperately needed it to be someone else’s hand doing this. The Devil wasn’t even to blame here. It drove him to punish sinners. Karen was far from a saint, but she was good. He knew she was good. The Devil would never go after her. He loved her. Yet here he was, pulling whimpers from her now that the screaming had stopped.
Kilgrave’s stare bore into him. His heart, if a man like this could even be said to have one, beat excitedly, rhythm rising slowly and steadily. His breathing was too controlled, clearly trying to stay composed, and failing fantastically.
“Stop!”
For a moment, everything did.
“Matt, please, stop.” Foggy repeated. “This isn’t you. I know this isn’t you. Fight it, Matty. I know you can.” Confident truth mixed with outright terror rang in Foggy’s heart. Yes, he believed Matt could fight this but was terrified at the prospect of being wrong.
“Yeah, Matty ,” Kilgrave mocked, “Why don’t you go ahead and stop there. I should’ve had you start with him anyway. He has much less fight in him than she does. The strong ones squirm longer, ya know. But, given this little outburst, I think it’ll be satisfying nonetheless.”
Clenching his teeth while the Devil’s grin stayed fixed on his face wasn’t easy, but Matt made it work. Against his will, and entirely for Kilgrave’s, Matt’s feet moved under him. Shifting from a kneeling position to standing, he loomed over Foggy. Hot, shallow breaths hit his face. Adrenaline and cortisol were much heavier on Foggy than they had been on Karen.
That was one of their biggest differences. Karen didn’t know when to let herself be afraid. She just plunged forward face-first into danger and hoped for the best. She was too much like him. Foggy was almost always afraid, but he’d do the right thing anyway. His fear might make him hesitate, but Matt figured he was braver than himself or Karen. Foggy knew fear and didn’t let it stop him fully.
“Oh, and don’t go so easy on him, ay? None of this minimalist shit you pulled with her.” Kilgrave gestured vaguely to Karen. Chuckling he said, “Make sure he’ll scar.”
Matt bent down, hand next to Foggy’s head as he used to pew to steady himself. His hands knew exactly what to do even as he mentally begged them not to. The salt was so strong he didn’t know who was crying more, him or Foggy.
“Please Matt. You don’t want to do this.” It wasn’t a plea like before. This was a statement. There was still fear in his voice, but under it was the confidence Foggy would use in a closing statement.
The knife hovered centimeters away from Foggy’s face. Matt could feel him holding his gaze steady. From all the flight hormones wafting off of him, Matt knew he wanted to flinch. Foggy held steady.
That was all he needed.
Foggy knew who he was. Foggy even knew what the Devil was capable of. Most importantly, Foggy knew he’d believe him.
The Devil tore down the wall in his mind and took hold of the knife. Pausing, so as not to give himself away, Matt figured out a plan of action.
“Come on, on with it. I wanna know who screams louder.” Kilgrave clenched his fists, smirk being taken over by a scowl.
Matt took one extra moment, winked at Foggy, and whipped around. He swiped at Kilgrave. The cut wasn’t deep, but it was long, spreading across his whole chest. Not knowing how much longer he could hold on, Matt worked fast and worked hard. Fists and feet and knees connected with Kilgrave’s face one right after the other. When he was nothing more than a moaning mess on the floor and the Devil was covered in blood, Matt stopped.
“Good luck giving orders with a broken jaw,” Matt smirked, the real Devil’s smirk this time.
Turning back to his friends, he picked Karen up Bridal style and pulled Foggy to his feet. “Come on.” Whether it was shock or the influence still taking hold neither one wanted to move.
“I knew you were in there, Buddy,” Foggy said, clapping him on the shoulder and dragging him into a lopsided embrace when they had made their way out of the church.
Karen had her arms around his neck and held on tight. “I’m so sorry, Matt.”
“No, no,” Matt petted her hair, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should’ve pulled myself out sooner.”
“We shouldn’t have gotten kidnapped.” Karen scoffed into his chest.
“Hey, how about we blame the sadist with mind control powers?” Foggy said, tone jovial, but meaning serious. “Besides, Karen, I can only handle one Martyr at a time.”
She snorted softly. “Fine, but it gets to be me, not Matt.”
Despite the situation, Matt barked a laugh. “Normally I’d give you a win after everything, but, I think Foggy is right.”
“Thank you.” Foggy sighed.
“Let’s just get home.”
Matt couldn’t agree more.