Matt doesn't know where to go after everything. He can't face his friends or the city he loves so much. He kept the card from that S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. He doesn't know if he'll use it. For now, he ends up at his church. His priest takes one look at him and sighs.

"Matthew, do you know what time it is?"

"I'm sorry, father, I need to be here. I understand if you can't take my confession but please don't turn me away."

"What's going on, Matthew? You look worse than I've seen you before. And I was here after a building fell on you."

Matt nods. "I'm sorry. I can't trust myself right now."

"You can't trust yourself with what?"

Matt stays silent.

The priest sighs. "I know you too well and I've seen that look too many times. You might not be around to come back in the morning if I turn you away, right?"

"I'm sorry."

—0—

By Morning, Matt leaves for Mexico. His priest is understanding and better than anyone at working him down but it comes down to the fact that this is Confession, not therapy. While Matt feels he has much to confess to, the reality is that he doesn't remember most of it. Because he didn't do it. Whether he's willing to accept that or not.

Either way, he needs to let this out. He's thankful for all his friends and allies, but he can't talk to any of them about this. Jessica is as emotionally constipated as he is— more so, even. Luke is frustratingly self-righteous. Daimon has a good heart but he doesn't strike Matt as the talk it out kind of guy, whether he offered or not. Matt has a feeling that Daimon would excuse his actions if anything. Trish... he doesn't know well enough. And Spider-Man is too young. Besides all that, he's not ready to strip his soul bare to any of them and unfortunately, Foggy doesn't get it. He's left with three options. Keep it in and brood— he's already decided that isn't a healthy coping mechanism (not that that's ever stopped him). Go to a real therapist— too expensive. Or he could talk to the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who helped him. She seemed genuine when she offered her shoulder to cry on. So, he calls her.

"Hello?" You answer, confused at the unknown number.

"Hi." He clears his throat. "It's Matt. I uh, does your offer to talk about what happened still stand?"

"Yeah, of course. Right now?"

"If it's not a good time I can call back."

"No, it's fine. I wasn't sure, that's all. So, what's going on Matt?"

—0—

Over the next few months, Matt would call in a panic about what he did— or what a demon did in his body while he was stuck in his own mind. The memories would be patchy and you would talk him down, or help him remember details if that's what he needed at the time. You were able to meet up a few times in person. Those times lasted hours. As the meetings and conversations went on, you started to stray from the initial topic that brought you together that day until you stopped needing an emotional crisis to get together. Any time you were passing through the area for work, you'd make sure to meet up with him, even if it was only for a hug and reassurance.

Matt doesn't know how to feel. Well, if he's honest with himself, he knows exactly how he feels. He doesn't know how you feel and therefore, doesn't know if he should tell you how he feels. He knows he falls hard, fast, and often into love. It's why he knows exactly what this is so early on. The more he talks to you, the less he wants to talk about all the bad that happened to him recently and the more he wants to find out about you. This started as a way to get him through the aftermath of a demon possessing him but it's so much more than that now. He's not the only one who initiates anymore. Sometimes you'll call him sounding distant, asking if he's okay. The first few times, that's all you'd say, insisting you were fine when he asked. When he pressed, you eventually told him that you had a bad mission and you needed to talk to someone about anything. You'd fall asleep on the phone together.

After being out here, having no contact with his friends for months, he's finally decided that he's done brooding. Or that's how he's sure you'll put it once he tells you. It took a little blind kid whose mom was involved with a member of a local gang and a minor weapons deal in said gang to get him back into his heroics. Now that he solved this problem and can leave this kid in good conscience, he's ready to go home.

"Y/n, I'm coming back to New York."

"That's great, Matt. I'm so glad you're done brooding."

He laughs on the other end but lets you continue your train of thought otherwise uninterrupted.

"Your friends are worried about you. Like I've told you before, they'll be so happy to see you."

"Are you home?"

"I'm at the store right now, why?"

He lets out a soft laugh. "I meant, are you in New York, but I guess that answers my question." He pauses. "Uh, I want to talk to you in person."

"Of course. Is everything okay, Matt?"

"As okay as it ever is right now."

"Okay. When do you want to meet?"

"Do you have any plans tonight?"

"No, are you on your way here now?"

"I'm on the greyhound, yeah."

"That sounds like shit. I guess you'll be wanting a drink after that."

He laughs. "After living in the sewers for months and having a demon take over your body, a crowded bus is paradise. Colorful scents and all."

"If that's paradise, Josie's must be heaven."

"Oh, Josie's," He laughs.

"Even she's been asking about you. You've touched a lot of lives, Matt."

There's a long pause on the other end before he changes the subject. "So, I should be there in a few hours."

"Alright call me again when you get closer so I can head over."

"Got it." He pauses. "Hey, do you mind if we meet for coffee instead?"

"That's fine. Matt, are you sure you're okay? You seem... nervous."

"I'm coming home after I dropped off the grid for months. I'll have a line of people waiting to yell at me."

"Well, I'm not going to say, I told you so, but I can't help you there."

"Yeah, I know. Thank you, for being there for me all this time."

—0—

Matt's a nervous wreck. Over the past few months, you've become a crucial part of his life. He knows the word crucial is dramatic but it's how he feels about you. You're not only important; you helped him find his way back to his humanity after a demon possession. More than that, you understand him. Over the last few months, he has found that out.

When you get to the coffee place, you find Matt with both your orders on a little table he claimed in the corner.

"Matt!" You walk up to him with your arms outstretched.

He lets out a breath against your neck as he leans into a hug. No matter what's about to happen, having you here, in front of him, is an immense relief. He missed you.

"Hey, I—" If he can't say that he missed you, how is he supposed to confess his undying love for you? "I missed you."

"I missed you too, Matt. I'm so glad you're back."

"Me too. I'm sure Mexico is great for some people but I left my heart in New York."

"You couldn't take your heart anywhere else if you tried."

He nods, letting the silence stretch for a minute. He can't think of a natural segway to what he wants to say, so he stops trying. He clears his throat before he starts talking again.

"I'm not sure how to say this, but I need to and I hope that if you don't agree, that we can still be friends."

"That's not ominous at all." You let out a nervous laugh.

"Listen, I have two full plates. Now that I'm back, I fully intend on getting back to both my job as a lawyer and duties as Daredevil. I know you have your plate full with your job too. Over the last few months, I've fallen in love with you. I know you're going to wonder if I'm ready for a relationship, especially with the person who saved me, so let me tell you that I've thought this through. And I think we could work because not only do we get along, and I'm hoping you love me in the way that I love you, but because we both have our own lives. We're both in similar lines of work, so we'll understand what the other is dealing with. Because, I don't know about you, but 80% of the fights and subsequent breakups I've had were about me being Daredevil and not being able to carve out enough time for the other person."

"Yeah, that does sound familiar. Especially the part about falling in love with you. I'm glad to hear that my feelings are reciprocated and that your feelings aren't some form of hero worship. Also, how long were you practicing that speech?"

He laughs. "The whole bus ride here. Why, did it sound rehearsed?"

"It sounded like an opening argument and presenting of facts."

"Ah, I'll remember to be more spontaneous and passion fueled next time."

"I wouldn't mind that, but I also know who I fell for and it's part of why I love you. It was adorable watching you power through it."

"Uh, good." He thinks back on his speech— it's a jumble in his mind now— and your reaction. It has been an exchange of information and he needs to make it more than that. "So, you and me, are we giving this a shot?"

"I assumed that's what all this was building to. Yes, Matt, I want that."

He smiles, leaning in to give you a passionate, but still chaste kiss. Unfortunately, you're still in the coffee shop.

"Matt, do you want to come back to my place?"

In lieu of an answer, he stands, pushes his chair in and extends his hand to you.

"I'll take that as a yes." You take his hand.

—0—

It's a couple weeks after Matt's love confession and he's sleeping peacefully next to you. He looks years younger as he lays beside you, his features relaxed until they aren't anymore. He starts mumbling something unintelligible before he lashes out and you have to catch his arm before it hits you.

"Hey, Matt, wake up."

He gasps, bolting upright when you shake him. You sit back, give him a minute to catch his breath and realize what's going on before you put a tentative hand on his shoulder. He startles but otherwise seems fine with the contact.

"Hey, Matt, baby, what's going on? Are you alright?"

He shakes his head. "I'd rather not talk about it right now."

"Alright, well, I'm here for whatever you need."

He lets out a breath. "You're proof that Karma isn't real because I haven't done one thing in my life to deserve you."

"Well, that's bullshit. Matt, one thing I will never understand is how you can spend every waking moment of your life helping others and think that a little demon possession undoes all that. You're a decent man, Matthew. Of course, you have your flaws, but everyone does. You deserve someone who understands and supports you."

"You know, since we've been together, this is the first night I've had a nightmare while I was sleeping with you. I knew it was a coincidence and wouldn't last, but it was a nice bit of magic while it did."

You kiss his cheek and coax him to lie back down in your arms.

"I wish I could get rid of them for you." You tell him as he settles, pressed against your side, his head pillowed on your chest.

He has a little sad smile that you can see with the streetlights bleeding into the apartment. "You know, it's rare that they're even about the Beast anymore. They're about the times leading up to him possessing me. When he was only a whisper in my ear. Before I woke up, I was killing Bullseye again. That was my choice."

"Alright, Matt. You've mentioned this before and I didn't have much more to offer you than a shoulder to cry on. But I thought about it. How do you know?"

"What do you mean, how do I know? That was my rage, my enemy, my aim for the Hand. Why would the Beast kill someone who would thrive on and contribute to the violence and death it wanted to create for the city?"

"Neither of us is an expert, but if you ask me, it was the Beast."

"I know you're trying to help, but please don't try to shift responsibility. I know a lot of what happened was him in my body, but that one was me."

"I'm not trying to shift the blame. If you believe in your heart of hearts that you killed Bullseye of your own volition— and you're right— I need you to know that I love you anyway. This isn't me trying to paint you as an innocent for either of our sake. I know you by now, Matt and it seems odd that after years of restraint, you snapped like that."

Matt moves out of your embrace. "He killed a hundred people!"

"I know; that was shitty. If that was what finally made you snap, I'm awed that it was a group of people you didn't even know when he's going after the people you love for so many years. Knowing they were part of your city and now their loved ones have to go through what you have so many times. You know what I've always admired about you, Matt?" He doesn't respond, but you didn't expect him to. "You've suffered so much and life has been so unfair to you in every way, but you refuse to take it laying down. Any given thing you've been through would've overwhelmed someone else-- and that was before the demon possession. It would be so easy and justified for you to give up. But you never have. Instead, you dedicate your life to making sure that the world is a little more fair for someone else."

"I have a feeling that you know I won't let that make me feel better, but it means a lot to hear that you admire me for any reason." He moves to lay in your arms again.

"Matt, I'm your girlfriend, I'd hope that there are a few things I admire about you." You place a kiss on his forehead. "You should contact Daimon, talk to him about this. You know he won't judge you and he knows how these things work better than anyone. A demon living inside him is his Thing."

Matt lets out a breath. "What am I supposed to say to him? I murdered someone and now I feel guilty, please help me?"

"Sort of. I have a theory that you should talk to him about, though. You've told me how you don't remember what happened when it was controlling you. But I don't think it's that simple. Before you killed Bullseye, you were hearing his whispers, feeling the Beast try to take over here and there. After you heard how many people Bullseye killed, you felt all that rage along with the stress of leading the hand. Now there's this weird presence in your head making you lash out, convincing you that increasingly brutal methods are okay. Would you have known if the Beast took over for a second and ran Bullseye through? Did you always know at the beginning or did you just feel a flash of anger sometimes?"

He lays beside you in silence.

"Because from what Daimon talked to me about, the Beast found a cult to worship it. When they summoned it, it was weak. One thing Daimon told me was that with most possessions, the host fights and the demon ends up killing the person— or sometimes the person kills them— before they can do whatever it is they were up to. If they want to accomplish their goal, they have to trick the host and only the strongest ones have the foresight and patience to do that. You weren't dealing with some lesser demon any amateur could've exorcized. It makes sense that the Beast needed someone with your rage, and the drive to funnel that rage into something, so it could take you over gradually. This was a dude who disappeared and the other hell-lords went: that's fine, he would've won if we fought anyway. And you beat him."

Matt takes a deep breath. "Yeah, I'll talk to him."

"Good, it'll be good for you."

—0—

Matt meets with Daimon the next night.

"Yeah, it sounds like she's onto something." Daimon agrees. "I haven't had a lot of dealings with the Beast because, as I told her, it went underground before my parents even thought of me. Sure, different groups have called me to deal with the Hand, but I don't know the Beast personally."

Matt lets out a desperate laugh. "Do you ever take a step back from all this and have a laugh? If you would've told me as a child that I'd be discussing who knows which demons personally, I might have actually listened to the nuns."

Daimon grins. "I know what you mean. I've sort of branded the whole Son of Satan thing, but even being half demon, I remember my childhood and wonder if things might have been different. I grew up in a Catholic orphanage too, you know. I was set to become a priest until my inheritance showed up on my 21st birthday. I went to the old house and found my mom's diary, talking about her marriage to my father and finding out he was Satan. It drove her insane-- not a hyperbole. But you know, me diverting from that path was probably for the best. I mean, can you imagine having me on the other side of a confessional?"

Matt laughs. "I'm sure you'd be good at it. You're a good guy, hiding it under a layer of edgy hell-lord."

"So I hear." He pauses. "How are you holding up?"

"Oh, you know."

"Yeah, I remember when my dark soul first started surfacing. I did a few things I'm not proud of before I learned to control it."

"Did you ever kill anyone?"

"I came close. More than once. And it wasn't that I tried to kill someone and couldn't do it at the last second. Each time was in a rage, I let my dark soul take over completely. As I was about to kill this person I had to remind myself that I wouldn't be defending anyone with that act. I would've done it because I wanted them dead. So, I understand that overwhelming anger at an enemy. I also know about Demons. And I know that the Beast would know exactly how to break you. No one can know for sure if that was you or him who killed Bullseye, but you're a good man, Matt. I hope you can find a way to alleviate that guilt and move on."

"Thanks, Daimon."

—0—

Weeks pass; Matt's still agonizing over everything. Of course, he is. He wouldn't be himself if he wasn't. He also wouldn't be a Good Catholic Boy if he let go of his guilt and his religion is something he's clinging to right now. When he wakes up from nightmares you pull him close and hold him while you walk him through deep breaths. On particularly bad nights, he babbles incoherent prayers into your neck until he falls back into a fitful sleep. But despite everything, he is getting better. There are fewer nightmares and even fewer bad nights. Though still wracked with guilt, you think he's coming to terms with what he did and the fact that the city is better off with the devil on the streets, no matter what he's done in the past.