Work Text:
The moment the lights go out, Tommy is running. He's stumbling out the back door in an instant, leaving his two friends to their fate. Nothing will keep him in that room. Not with the blood he knows is on his hands. They say the Devil never forgives blood.
He's in the alleyway behind their building when Freddy screams...and then the noise is cut off. Tommy flinches and picks up speed. He's got a head start, he'll make it.
The back door slams open, making a noise like a gunshot in the quiet night. Tommy picks up more speed, while trying to ignore how his chest aches and his lungs cry for more air. The Devil is coming and he'll need all his wits if he wants to get away.
Panting, he looks over his shoulder and stumbles. There's a shadow on the road; a silhouette with horns looking in his direction. Fear floods him and he tries to run faster. Directionless, he sprints, desperate to flee the monster behind him.
A bang sounds on the rooftop beside him. Without thinking, Tommy dodges across the street. He trips over the curb, his legs weak and shaking but picks himself up. Tommy ignores the sting of his palms and the pain in his shin and tries to keep running.
Stick to the street. Stay in the light. Don't stop running until Hell's Kitchen is far, far behind you. These are the only rules for escaping the Devil.
Tommy ignores the thought that no one ever does.
He's a block - one tiny block! - away from the edge of Hell's Kitchen when the Devil appears before him, a smirk on its human form. Tommy's weakened knees give out and he's left kneeling before the monster.
'God forgive me,' he prays.
The Devil's smile recedes from its face. 'Were you thinking of God when you murdered those children?' it growls, lifting Tommy by his throat.
'God forgive me and save me from trespassing!'
'Too late.' The Devil throws Tommy and he crashes into a wall. Stunned, he's unable to move as the Devil approaches. 'Go to Sergeant Mahoney. Confess your sins. Maybe then, you'll find a side of you that God can forgive.' It stares into Tommy's soul with its solid black eyes and finds all his sins.
Tommy whimpers as he loses control of his bladder, fear flooding him. 'I... I promise. Please-'
'Go now,' it says leaning forward so its face is nearly touching Tommy's. 'If you don't, I'll know. And I will come for you.'
For a moment, Tommy can feel the flames of hell below him, calling for his blood, his flesh, his soul. Finding a strength he didn't know he had, Tommy rises to his feet and begins to stumble in the direction of the nearest police station.
The Devil follows him the entire way.
********
'So Brett was telling me something interesting the other day?'
Matt hums and tries to steal another bite off Foggy's plate, just to annoy him. Foggy blocks the move with a clash of their forks and they have a brief but furious fork fight. Matt wins, coming away with one of Foggy's meatballs - Anna Nelson's recipe that is about the only dish Foggy can cook to perfection or at all honestly - which he immediately eats. They've not had a friend dinner like this in ages and Matt had forgotten how much he loved their little tradition.
'What did he say?' Matt finally remembers to ask.
Foggy pulls his plate towards himself, like it will help. 'That a lot of criminals recently have been a lot more religious than Brett's used to. Screaming in fear about the devil and whimpering when left alone in dark rooms.' Matt bites his lip and lowers his head, so Foggy can't see his eyes. 'Seems that a lot of people 'round here are convinced Daredevil is an actual demon. The Devil to be precise.'
There's an accusing note in Foggy's voice. 'I've never killed anyone,' Matt repeats. He fiddles with his fork.
Foggy reaches out a hand and stills Matt's. 'I never said you did pal. But, really? Scaring people into thinking you're the Devil. Isn't that blasphemy?'
'I didn't do it on purpose!' Matt cries then sighs with a defeated shrug. 'But people just... assumed. Jumped to conclusions. And well. It helps? If criminals start running instead of fighting when they see me.'
Matt can practically hear Foggy thinking that through. 'Conclusi-oh. The senses thing?' Matt nods. 'Right. That... actually makes sense, holy shit. I see it now. Huh.' He moves his hands to Matt's chin and lifts his head up gently. 'Buddy, I never thought I'd say this but you, my wounded duck friend, are somehow accidentally badass.'
He can hear the smirk in Foggy's voice so Matt pushes at his shoulders, laughing when Foggy falls back and releases him. 'I was always badass,' Matt says, lifting his shoulders.
'You totally look like a ruffled bird right now. All fluffed up in offence.' Foggy is outright laughing now. Right. For that, Matt pushes away from the table and goes to tickle Foggy.
Foggy runs away. 'Help! Help! The Devil is after me!' he cries as he tries to outrun Matt, his laughter still in his voice.
He doesn't make it.
No one ever does.