Chapter Text
“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you up?” Foggy asked from the driver’s seat, his brow furrowed as he watched Karen exit the car with a pained grimace.
“I’ll be fine, Fog, really.” Karen sighed and winced as she readjusted her shoulder bag, “It’s been a shitty day, all I want is a beer and a shower.” She smiled at him, even though she knew it wouldn’t look as reassuring as she wanted it to, as the ache of her injury and chill of the frigid early december air stung painfully.
“Okay, fine.” Foggy relented. “But take the weekend off. Matt and I can hold down the fort for a while, and you need a break.” Karen sighed and rolled her eyes, but didn’t argue as she wished him a goodnight and thanked him for the ride. “Call me if you need anything!” Foggy shouted as the door closed.
Karen nodded and waved as Foggy drove away and trudged, exhausted, up to her apartment building and through the door. She mashed the elevator button for her floor and slumped back against the wall, finally allowing the shit of the day to catch up to her. It had started with spilling her coffee, continued with a car wreck, and finished at the hospital; so suffice to say, by the time the elevator doors closed on her way up to her apartment, all she could think about was how she desperately wanted it to end with some good take-out, and a strong drink. Karen’s own bruised face stared back at her from different angles on the shiny elevator walls, littered with tiny cuts from shards of glass. The elevator doors finally slid open with a whine of metal and she stepped into the hallway, looking down to fish her keys out of her purse. Karen was so caught up thinking about the details of her shitty day, that she almost didn’t notice the two figures loitering in her hallway until she was only a few feet away from them.
“Hey Karen.” Frank Castle said quietly from her doorstep.
Karen startled; she made a grab for the pistol instead of her keys, her fingers wrapping around the handle, almost dropping her bag in surprise before the bruised and battered face before her registered. “Jesus fucking Christ Frank!” she hissed at him in a whisper she hoped didn’t carry down the hallway as she tried to slow her rapidly beating heart. She released her grip on the gun, still in the bag, grabbing her keys instead, but she knew Frank noticed. She continued walking, closing the distance between them. Frank was dressed in his usual dark clothing and hoodie, and Karen recognized the teenager beside him as the girl from the hospital. She carried a potted plant in one hand, balanced on her hip like a child, and a worn book in the other; both had rumpled clothes with bags slung over their shoulders.
Karen’s heart fluttered as she took in Frank’s hooded form, and she tried to tell herself it was just the shock; but as Karen’s eyes made her way to his, appraising the myriad of new injuries obscuring his features, her heart gave a painful twang she knew had nothing to do with the shock. She could scarcely recall a time she had seen him uninjured, but the sight of Frank hurt never failed to put an ache in her chest.
Frank’s eyes scanned her face, tracking the various cuts and bruises scattered across her skin and when he looked back at her, the look in his eyes mirrored her own, but with a sharper edge glinting in his gaze. Frank’s right hand twitched, like he was about to raise it to her injured cheek, but thought better of it. He settled instead for speaking, “Who did this?” His gravelly voice seemed calm, but Karen could sense the underlying rage behind the question.
Karen felt a stab of annoyance; that Frank could act concerned over her injuries, but he always brushed off her worry about his own wounds. She swallowed her irritation and brushed past him, resigning herself to this evening’s turn of events. “Even you can’t go after every drunk driver in New York.” Karen said dryly with an eye roll as she unlocked her front door and stepped inside, kicking off her heels by the front door and tossing her bag on the counter, leaving her two guests to trail in behind her awkwardly.
“I can try.” Frank huffed, clearly unhappy she brushed off the question as he crossed the threshold and his eyes scanned the room. In a way, Karen was surprised to see Frank, though not at all surprised he was able to find her, despite the fact that this was a new apartment and she had never disclosed this address to him before. If it had been anyone else, she would find it unsettling; as it was, she found herself relieved that he could find her when he needed to.
The teenager followed close behind Frank; she wandered over to Karen’s bookshelf, still gripping the potted plant, her eyes mimicking Frank’s as they bounced around the room, read book titles, and scanned various objects. Karen recalled Dinah Madani’s warning about ‘Frank’s Little Helper’ and her sticky fingers, but Karen couldn’t bring herself to be concerned, despite the very little she knew about the girl. Karen spoke as she opened her fridge, pulling out a beer each for her and Frank, and a soda for the kid, “Feel free to put your stuff down and make yourselves comfortable. I was thinking of ordering take out from this wonderful Thai food place down the street.” Karen popped the caps off the bottles and passed one to Frank. “I don’t know about you two, but I’m starving.”
“God yes.” The teenager groaned as she tossed aside her bag and collapsed onto Karen’s couch. “Food sounds amazing.”
Karen smiled, “I don’t think we were ever properly introduced.” she said as she handed the young girl the soda.
The girl set the plant on the ground by her feet, immediately cracked the soda and took a few gulps before responding, “I’m Amy.” she said with a suppressed belch. Frank shot her a frown, grumbling about her manners, but Amy shrugged it off with a roll of her eyes.
Karen smiled, glad to encounter another person unafraid of Frank Castle. “Nice to see you again Amy, I’m Karen.”
“I know, I remember.” Amy said after another gulp of soda. “It’s good to see you too.”
Karen took a swig of her beer as she took in Amy’s rumpled clothes and grimy appearance. “The bathroom is down the hall to the left if you need it,” she said, guestering with a small smile, “the hot water is finicky but it will heat up eventually.”
Amy shot a longing look down the hallway, but looked to Frank and waited for his nod before grabbing her bag, murmuring a quiet “Thanks.” and disappearing down the hall. She took the plant with her.
As soon as the muffled spray of the shower could be heard through the walls the quiet in the room became deafening. There was a tension in the air between them, the pent up energy of all the things said and unsaid between them. Karen couldn’t even find it in herself to feel surprised anymore, they’d played this song and dance before, she knew all the steps. Even still, as Karen met his eyes, scanning all the new welts covering his face, while her own bruises made her jaw ache she thought about when she had last seen him, that day in the hospital; how, later she had watched the news live as they discovered the wreckage of the ambulance, how she had stood paralized with fear, unable to breathe until they announced Frank Castle was still at large. While everyone else around her clamored with anxiety knowing he was still out there, she was able to breathe a sigh of relief.
The car wreck from that morning really wasn’t so bad, all things considered, but it still shook her, reminded her of Kevin and how fleeting things can be, and it's that thought that has her crossing the small distance across her living room and enveloping him in a tight embrace. Karen wrapped her arms around him- not too tightly in case he had any broken ribs- and buried her face in his shoulder, breathing in the smell of copper and gunpowder.
Frank froze, just for a second, before his shoulders relaxed and he returned the hug with both arms this time. They swayed slightly, Karen could feel his face press into her shoulder and her eyes burned at the feeling of his arms around her. He was warm, alive, and she could feel his heart beating against her chest, and that was enough. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” she said, her voice slightly muffled by his shoulder and the weight of her own emotions. She allowed herself a moment longer while she regained composure before she loosened her arms and pulled away. The look in his eyes when they met hers was so surprisingly tender she had to clear her throat before speaking “So- take out?”
“Yeah,” Frank said softly, still meeting her eyes, his voice gravelly, “yeah, take out sounds good.”
Karen sat at her dining table, dialed the restaurant and watched as Fank stalked restlessly around her cramped living room, inspecting her various possessions while Amy continued to take advantage of the bathroom. Even when the call connected and Karen placed the order, she didn’t look away from Frank. Most of New York’s populace saw him as The Punisher, a criminal and a killer, but whenever Karen looked at him, she couldn’t help but see the person. Seeing him now- shoulders hunched, head bowed, and eyes scanning the room because he couldn’t meet her gaze for more than a few seconds, as if humbled by her very presence- Karen recalled the first time she’d ever laid eyes on him, bruised, battered, and strapped to a hospital bed. Exactly like the last time she’d seen him. The first time she’d ever looked into his eyes, the pain that radiated from his eyes was so palpable, and somehow so familiar that it never failed to seep into her soul, dredging up the same pain she kept buried every waking day. He’d had that same painful look in his eyes the last time she had seen him. She never knew if she would get the chance to see him alive again, but each time she did it felt like a miracle, like she could breathe again, and yet each time the fear of it being the last paralized the air in her lungs.
Karen ended the call, turning the phone over in her hand before setting it down. She took a deep breath, gathering her strength. “So, I take it this is more than a social late night dinner.” she said, getting right to the point; she’d never been a fan of beating around the bush. “What’s going on Frank?” Karen asked softly.
Frank finally turned to look at her and met her gaze, though his eyes darted from his fidgety hands and back to her face before speaking. “You wanna say no, you can say no... but I need help Karen,” he said simply, “and you’re the only one I can trust with this.”
Despite herself, Karen’s heart thumped in her chest. She tried to tell herself it was only the anticipation. “What do you need me to do?” she responded immediately. Matt had already numbed Karen to never getting the full story and rolling with whatever crazy bullshit life happened to throw her way, it was just part of life now. “I assume the fact that you’re here means that that bounty has been taken care of.”
Frank shifted, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. Karen knew he was always restless when he talked, but she knew his mannerisms like a second language. Frank’s discomfort was obvious, and when he muttered, “All that’s been handled.” Karen raised an eyebrow at the statement, knowing that wasn’t the full story, but she believed him. Frank muttered something incomprehensible under his breath before pulling out a chair and joining her at the table saying, “Nah, I need help with the kid.”
“Amy?” Karen raised her eyebrows and glanced down the hall where she could hear the shower running. “What kind of help do you need?”
Frank took a swig of his beer, “For as young as she is, she’s been through hell.” he scowled at the bottle in his hands, trigger finger tapping against the glass. “I thought if I got her out of the bullshit that would be it, and we’d go our separate ways, but...” he sighed, “she hasn’t got anyone else.”
There was a pause, and Karen’s heart seemed frozen in her chest as the silence continued while Frank gathered his thoughts. Karen had known as soon as she’d seen him again that whatever he asked of her, she would do. It wasn’t even a question anymore really, but this- taking care of a teenager he left behind on her doorstep, felt like something else entirely. She spoke before he could, “I don’t know what kind of help I could give you, Frank.” Karen said softly, trying to conceal her spike of anxiety, “I can’t take in any strays right now.”
Frank blinked, and shook his head. “That’s not it.” He sighed, more heavily this time, and tipped back his head and finished the last swig of his beer, rolling the bottle between his palms while he spoke, “If I’d just sent her off after everything... I’d just be another asshole in a long line of assholes that’ve abandoned and forgotten about her.”
Frank paused, and Karen could see the cloud of emotions swirling under the surface while he fidgeted with the bottle and worked his jaw. Watching his face it occurred to her with a sudden sense of clarity that whatever Frank was about to say was difficult for him- perhaps more difficult than anything he’d said to her before. In the silence, Karen found it difficult to breathe.
Frank met her eyes. “After everything I just... couldn’t do it.”
The words were simple, but Frank spoke them with a quiet assuredness that had the air rushing back into Karen’s lungs. She searched his face and she found a quiet resolve in his unwavering gaze. Her eyes burned and her voice had the slightest waver to it when she asked, “Why?”
Frank didn’t look away. “I guess I was just tired of being alone.”
Karen’s breath shook in her chest. “So, why come to me?”
Frank’s eyes shone and his voice was strained as he spoke. “A buddy of mine... recently I- he... I got him mixed up in my shit. And I pushed him too hard... asked too much of him.”
“Frank.” Karen said quietly as she rested her hand on his arm.
Frank looked down at her hand as she rubbed small circles on the back of his arm with her thumb. “The kid asked me why we weren’t going to see him, and I told her he doesn't wanna see me... and she just didn’t get it, wanted to know why I didn’t just go over there and patch things up with him... I can’t fix things with him right now.” He said, his voice thick, “But I thought maybe I could start with this.” His eyes moved over her face, taking in her features and myriad of injuries. “You’ve already done so much for me- I don’t wanna push you away... ask too much of you.”
Karen smiled at him, a little sadly, “I already told you, can’t scare me away that easily.” She gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “It’s too late for that.” Frank smiled back at her, lopsided and bittersweet.
There came a sudden, loud knock at the door and they both jumped, startled. Frank reached for the gun at his waist instinctively, but Karen cried out, “Wait, wait-! Take out- its-” she coughed, trying to slow her rapidly beating heart, “It’s just the take out.” she said with more composure as she went to open the door.
Frank lingered in the kitchen, out of sight, while Karen paid for the food and tipped the delivery boy. She leaned against the door after closing it, tripping her head back and closing her eyes before taking a breath and walking into the kitchen, as if the sight of Frank waiting for her there, leaning with his elbows on the counter didn’t make her slightly dizzy. She grabbed her beer bottle off the counter and took the last swig before announcing, “I need something stronger.”
Frank raised his eyebrows, smirking. “Thought you’d never ask,” he said sarcastically.
Karen poured them both a glass of whiskey while Frank unbagged the food. She handed him his glass with a quiet, “Cheers,” they clinked glasses and drank, the burn of the whiskey a good distraction from the lingering apprehension. “So,” she said as the fire from the whiskey faded in her throat, “what now?”
“I’ve been thinking of what I need to do. You know, for- for... after. And uh-” Frank swirled the whiskey in his glass, “we need somewhere safe to stay while I set things up.”
Karen took another sip of her drink, mouth suddenly dry. “You know you’re always welcome here- you and Amy, but you should know, my place may not be the safest place either.”
Frank tilted his head, rolling his bruised lip between his teeth, scrutinizing her with a serious expression on his face. “What are you wrapped up in?”
Karen scoffed and smiled at him dryly over the rim of her drink. “Nothing at the moment... but-” she shrugged, “never know what might come knocking.” Karen swirled her whiskey around the glass while the silent burden of the past hung in the air between them. “We’ll trade stories later.” she said, changing the topic, “Now-” Karen finished her drink and looked him in the eye as the shower cut off in the distance, “we eat dinner.”
Frank met Karen’s intense stare and neither backed down until Frank said quietly, “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”
Frank set the table while Karen walked down the short hallway, past the bathroom and into her bedroom. She rummaged through her drawers for some casual clothes that she thought were roughly Amy’s size, then walked to the bathroom, knocking lightly and calling through the door, “Amy? It's Karen. I have some clean clothes that will fit you if you need them.”
The door opened a crack, a blue eye peered out at her through the gap, sizing her up and assessing the clothes. They must’ve been acceptable, because the door opened just wide enough for Amy’s hand to dart out and grab the fabric with another quiet muttered “Thanks.”
The bathroom door snapped shut. Amy was still clearly defensive and suspicious, but Karen didn’t blame her. Seeing Amy, so closed off and afraid, Karen was beginning to understand why Frank couldn’t leave her behind. Karen didn’t know much about what Amy and Frank had been through together, but clearly, it was life or death. She remembered how desperate and frightened he had been when the cop from the hospital had attacked Amy. Karen didn’t think she’d ever seen Frank that genuinely frightened before, and the depth of this panic revealed how much they meant to each other. Karen knew from experience how surviving those situations change a person’s life and leave them with unseen scars that never fade; and Amy was so young. The young girl’s tough exterior was just a facade built to conceal her fear and uncertainty.
Karen walked back into the kitchen with new resolve. “So,” she said, topping off their glasses of whiskey and taking a seat at the table across from Frank, “what sort of help do you need exactly?”
“Well,” Frank said after a mouthful of food, “I figure the kid needs as close to a normal life as we can get. Stable place to stay- getting her back into school, that kind of thing.”
Karen raised her eyebrows around her own bite of food, she was honestly surprised that he’d taken it that seriously. “How can I help with that?”
“After- after all that Agent Orange business,” Frank muttered, stabbing at his food with his fork a little harder than necessary, “David did me some favors... I got the finances covered. And- Madani... after all the shit that just went down let's just say I’m in her good books now. Or as good as those books get.” he shrugged, “So I got an I. D. that’s as good as gold.”
In the hallway, Karen heard the bathroom door open, and a moment later Amy joined them at the table, her long curly hair damp, and the sleeves of Karen’s borrowed shirt rolled up to her elbows. Frank continued as Amy pulled her food closer to her and tucked in like she han’t eaten in a while. “What I really need help with are the realtors.”
“The- the realtors?” Karen said incredulously.
“Can’t exactly stroll into an open house with this mug.” Frank said sarcastically.
“So you want me to help you with... house hunting?” Karen said, still slightly shocked. Amy snickered.
Frank shrugged, tapping his trigger finger on the table with a smirk. “And the teachers.”
“Teachers?” Amy said, just as incredulous as Karen, “What do you mean teachers ?”
Frank continued to smirk, but kept talking, ignoring the shocked expression on Amy’s face. “I’ll need help enrolling her- it's not like I can attend any parent-teacher conferences.”
Karen almost couldn’t believe what she was hearing. All of it indicated the possibility of a future she had convinced herself was impossible, that Frank himself had said he couldn’t see at the end of the tunnel. Karen had to take a small breath, take a gulp of her whiskey and gather her emotions so as not to get her hopes up. Frank, giving himself another chance, safe, alive, and somewhere she could reach him... It was more than she had dared to hope for, and hope was such a dangerous thing. She pushed those thoughts aside. “Oh is that all?” she said in a light teasing tone, raising her glass to her lips. “Well- seeing how I got into a car collision at work today, I got the weekend off.”
Talk of business dissolved after that, and became light conversation and banter, Amy trying unsuccessfully to talk her way out of going back to school. Karen found herself laughing, catching Frank’s eyes and her breath stuttering in her lungs. Sitting across from the two of them, Karen was struck with the sudden feeling that her life was changing, that something about this felt different, but for once it didn’t feel like a bad thing. She had no idea what tomorrow would bring, or how she would fit two new additions to the household in her tiny one bedroom apartment for the next few days, but she looked forward to coming home to company. Karen’s bruised face hurt from the smile she couldn’t seem to keep off her face, but every time her eye’s caught Frank’s over the table, she was reminded she hadn’t felt this happy in a long time.