Stiggy!

I've seen a lot of theories, rumors, and even supposed leaks claiming that the Steve from the Avengers: Doomsday trailer is actually Hydra Cap, secretly infiltrating the team to manipulate them or feed information to Doom.

Whether that theory ends up being true or not, I couldn't resist imagining this little scenario. In this version, it really is Hydra Cap posing as Steve, and Bucky is the only one who immediately senses that something is wrong.

Every morning attacked Matthew Murdock like it had been personally offended by him.

But this morning was different.

As Matt woke up, he lay, waiting for the city to come crushing down on him with its usual pressure of how loud it was. Instead, all he could hear was muffled, murmuring, steady sounds, what an ordinary citizen with ordinary senses would hear, not a vigilante whose senses had always been on the verge of the impossible.

It felt… nice. It also felt wrong at the same time.

Maybe, he had hit his head the night before. But after a brief examination Matt discarded this theory. The head didn’t hurt. There was no headache either but there was a faint taste of painkillers on his tongue.

Perhaps, he could get used to it. He would even… want this.

But then again… he was Daredevil. Without his heightened senses, he wouldn’t be able to continue being Daredevil. And without Daredevil… who or what was he going to be? Just a blind lawyer.

More on instinct than purposefully, he opened his eyes. And it was a big mistake: instead of the usual darkness he had got used to over the years, there were suddenly bright colours, sharp lines, heavy shapes and other things he couldn’t quite name.

Matt immediately closed his eyes, shocked by what he saw. The familiar nothingness was there again, ready to welcome him back.

What was it? Was it a dream? Was it a nightmare? Or was it some cosmic miracle that returned him his vision?

It took Murdock some time before he dared to open his eyes again and didn’t close them despite still being overwhelmed by all the new sensations. His vision was still there.

Matt sat up, probably too fast for his body as there was a popping sound that came from his spine.

And then he realised one more thing. The body, his body, felt wrong, like it didn’t belong to him at all. Like he wasn’t supposed to be in this body. And yet there he was.

His back felt wrong. It hurt but it was neither fresh nor recent, more like something permanent that the body had already learnt to adjust to while Murdock’s mind was certainly not prepared for.

Matt stretched his arms out in front of him and looked at them. Muscular and strong. Not his.

Trying not to disturb his back too much, Murdock slowly stood up and decided to find a mirror. He desperately needed to know what was going on.

As he was searching for the bathroom or any other room with a mirror, he had a quick look around the place.

It was clearly cheap, there was no doubt about this. Whoever the owner was had to be on a budget so tight that it almost bordered on poverty. However, Matt couldn’t help noticing that it was neat and organised nevertheless. And too perfect for any normal person.

Finally, he found the bathroom, tiny but tidy.

In the mirror, there was a tall man with big deer eyes staring back at him.

Murdock stopped, quietly yet eagerly admiring the view, taking in every single feature. In front of him, there was a lean and muscular body with its chest hidden underneath a white tank top.

Matt’s fingers mindlessly reached for the top to take it off but he stopped himself. However tempting it was, it felt wrong. It felt too intimate.

But then what if this was his only opportunity to figure out whose body it was?

Before he could change his mind, Murdock decisively took the top off and discovered a broad chest covered in sweat and various scars scattered here and there like an intricate map. The body he was currently in wore a long history of violence on it, which meant that its owner had to be someone dangerous. And Matt didn’t like it because it meant that it had to be someone he had crossed paths with before.

Was the owner of this body now stuck in Murdock’s body, as confused as Matt or even worse?

Unfortunately, there was also no denying that this body was a work of modern Greek art that Matt would be more than willing to explore in detail in his bedroom. And then his kitchen. And then his bathroom. Actually, if he were to think about it, there would be a lot of places suitable for such cultural enlightenment, too many, perhaps.

As Murdock turned around, he discovered an ugly spinal scar, a long and uneven line running along the spine. The man thoughtfully hummed. His fingers lightly followed the scar, feeling the pleasant cold underneath.

When Murdock was done with the spinal scar, his hand followed a scar on the left side once. Twice. And then the man forced himself to remove the hand because otherwise there would be no stopping him. And he was the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, not a common sinner, right?

As his eyes inadvertently went down to the line of the boxers, he had to restrain himself and clenched his fists tight because the thin fabric left too little to his imagination. His heart started to pound in his chest like a wild stallion. Matt nervously swallowed and bit the lower lip.

After a few deep inhales to calm down, Matt looked straight at the face.

Murdock became blind before he could learn what it meant to be considered traditionally attractive but there was something hypnotising about the strong features he saw that made his gaze stay. Even though the face itself seemed rather forgettable, there was something hidden the man felt drawn too.

And then Matt noticed it. A jagged scar on the right cheek.

Murdock froze.

No, no, no, no, no…

It couldn’t be it. It couldn’t be happening to him of all people.

There was absolutely no way.

There could be another explanation. There had to be because the alternative was much worse.

But then again…

The place too organised for any sane person. The unique spinal scar. The cheek scar. All the evidence pointing in the same direction.

Of course, it could be a mistake.

Or…

Well, there was one sure way to check his theory and Matt hated it.

The man inhaled deeply and tensely stared at himself in the mirror.

”Hello, Karen.”

And there it was, the last bit of his hope was mercilessly crushed with one simple phrase once and for all.

He was indeed stuck in Benjamin Poindexter’s body.

Matt hysterically laughed at such an ironic twist of fate. But then it dawned on him.

Since he knew exactly whose body it was, he would feel absolutely no shame trying a thing or two or even all of them if he felt like it.

Murdock smirked and winked at his own reflection.