the tortured poets department

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“What are you doing, Frank? Getting yourself into things like this,” Karen exclaims, quickly shutting the door behind him. “How bad really are these guys?”

“Karen..” Frank says, his voice tight as they stand awkwardly together in the middle of Karen’s living room.

“I mean it, Frank. I know your goal, your mission, but when will it ever end? When will you deem yourself worthy to just live life and stop going after these people? There are so many people that could’ve done it, will it ever stop?”

Frank sighs, avoiding Karen’s gaze, staring down at his shoes.

“I don’t know, Karen.”

“What do you know? Because for all I know, you could be dying out on the streets alone any day of the week and I wouldn’t even be able to find out until far too late because you’re a presumed dead man anyway. Frank, I just..”

“I don’t care what happens to me, I just care about you.”

The two pause for a minute, the comment from Frank putting a chip into Karen’s angry demeanor.

“A-and everyone. Lieberman’s family, Sarah, his kids; I can’t put you all in danger.”

“But you’re okay with dying alone? On the streets? I know you’re grieving and I know you need to finish what you started here, but can’t you just let someone in? Please, that's all I want.”

“I can’t, Karen. I can’t tell you everything and still promise you’ll come out perfectly fine after everything goes down. I’ve told you this before, I can’t go after these bastards and still keep you safe. I just need you to understand how-“

Frank winces, his body weight leaning on the counter in Karen’s kitchen, trying his best to play it off by standing straighter, taking a few breaths to reduce his pain.

“Are you okay?” Karen asks in concern, slightly moving toward him as she notices his stance.

“I’m fine,” He replies, voice gruff and strained while trying to make his posture better.

“You’re obviously not, Frank. This is what I’m talking about — not letting people in.”

Frank subtlety removes his hand from the side of his abdomen, his palm a concerning shade of maroon. In his black hoodie you can’t see the stain, but he knows his side is coated in blood, trying to angle his body away from Karen.

Without a word, Karen moves towards his side, gently grabbing his hand, a gesture Frank wouldn’t usually let anyone else do. She looks at his palm, her expression reflecting the concern she feels when she sees the red coating his skin, a reflective sheen slightly visible on the side of his hoodie.

“Frank..” She says softly, her voice trailing off as she can feel him start to pull away.

“I’m fine, Karen. I don’t need to let you in, I don’t need your help, I shouldn’t even be here,” Frank mutters, heading towards the door, trying his best not to stumble from the dizziness of the blood loss.

Just before he makes it out of the door, Karen's arms grasp around his side lightly, getting him to stop right before he places his hand on the doorknob.

“If you’re just going to go back out to fight and not tell me anything, fine. But I will not let you just leave when you’re obviously hurt. You’re not dying alone, Frank,” Karen whispers, her voice stern yet comforting, her fingers tracing his as she pulls his hand away from the door. 

Without a word, he lifts up his hoodie, revealing the bloodstained skin underneath, cuts all along his side and abdomen. 

Karen just looks up at him, silently breaking their eye contact to grab her first aid kit.

The cleaning and treating of his wounds are done in silence, minus a few harsh breaths and sighs. 

“I don’t mean to pry but..”

“You’re not prying, I just don’t want you to worry,” Frank says, his voice gruff as he winces from the sutures.

“What happened, Frank? Every single time I see you you’re more alone, more secluded and walled off than before.”

Karen finishes the sutures, gently running her hand along the rough skin on the rest of Frank’s abdomen, feeling every scabbed over cut, every chisel on his torso.

“Karen,” He whispers, finally making eye contact with her, “All I want is for you to be safe.”

“But what about you? I can’t be ‘safe’ if you’re gone anyway, you ever think about that? I care about you too much to just…” Her voice trails off, the silence saying everything she wants to say but yet not enough.

“I should go Karen. Have a good night, I’ll check in with you soon, and this time I actually will-“

Before he can head out the door, Karen wraps him in a warm embrace, feeling his body relax in her arms. She can feel him softly sigh against her ear, the tenseness in his shoulders slowly dissipate, his tough demeanor slowly melting away.

“Please check in again soon,” She whispers against his ear, still holding him to her chest.

“I will.”

✧.* ༉‧₊˚