Chapter 2
Karen felt a shiver down her spine, and she knew. She knew he was watching, he was always watching. And she didn’t care.
That’s a lie, she cared very much.
But she didn’t want him to stop so she pretended like she didn’t . Frank Castle had a tendency to run when he found out that people cared. And she couldn’t handle losing him today.
Today was the 8 year anniversary of her brother’s death and the worst day of her life.
First, she woke up. And not to sound overdramatic but being alive when her brother wasn’t felt like worst thing to happen in the existence of the earth. Next, she was out of coffee. Then she went to her bed and slept for 12 hours and eventually it was 10:00 PM and she was sitting on her cold and wet balcony, staring at the flowers a murder left on her window to remind her that he was alive and here.
She hadn’t cried about her brother in a long while, so she’d like to say the tears burning in the back of her eyes were for him, but they weren’t. She and the idiot watching her both knew. They were for him. But she wouldn’t let them fall. Another thing they both knew: she couldn’t allow herself to cry over him.
Grief was a feeling they both understood quite well. It was ingrained in each of their bones to the point of no return. They both understood the loneliness that came with that, with feeling a pain that you can’t describe to anyone without sounding overdramatic or getting an unnecessary amount of pity. They both needed different things when grieving, but they both also needed the same thing. They needed a soul to understand, to feel, to hurt with them.
One thing Karen felt that Frank didn’t was grieving a person who was very much alive.
She felt him in her skin. The small, understanding touches between them would mean nothing to a normal person but the delusions in her can’t help but make them more.
Make him more.
Foggy probably thought there was nothing more than empathy and pity between me and Frank. He assumes that he is nothing more than a killer with a heart for his family.
Matt probably suspected something. After all, he could hear her heartbeat every time Frank was mentioned in conversation. Then again he could have just chalked it up to fear.
That was so funny to Karen.
Fearing Frank Castle would be like fearing your own shadow. They were the same, to her at least.
Matt believes she would never hurt a fly, let alone kill anyone. I don’t know how he hasn’t figured out that that train has beyond left the station.
Even if it was delusional, she truly believed nothing was as simple with them as others believed. She knew that whatever they were, it was the most important thing in her life at this point.
Karen looked at her coffee and a feeling on her spine made her realize something.
Why in gods name am I not pushing him?
From the beginning, Karen pushed Frank in a way nobody else had. She ripped him from the silence that came from being The Punisher and forced Frank to confront himself head on. She took all things he buried and dug until he was begging her to stop. But when she was done, she took all those bruises and gave him the medicine to heal. Gave him the truth.
So why is she sitting here and pretending she doesn’t know he is there? Just because she’s scared he will leave?
Karen forces her head upwards and scans the roof until their eyes meet.
She can tell he’s tapping that trigger finger, even from this far away she knows.
She knows.
He stands to begin packing his bag and her heart skips a beat. She shakes her head and he pauses, most likely still tapping that finger. He puts the bag down and his eyes train on her. He looks into her. He could always do that well. Know what she was thinking before she did. Seeing her in a way nobody had before. Not Matt, not Foggy, maybe not even her brother.
He lifts what I assume to be a phone and she feels a buzz on her jacket pocket.
Confused, she answers the call and hears,
“Still all heart, ma’am?”
She feels a smile growing on her face but she pushes it down,
“Where you been, Castle?”
“I’m assuming you know exactly where I have been.”
She nodded at that, even though he probably couldn’t see. Or maybe he could. Nothing would make more sense than The Punisher being able to see through the shadows he lived in.
On the nights when he wasn’t watching her from that rooftop, she would get stories of a man in black with a skull on his chest. He was taking lives from small time trafficking men to heads of the most powerful crime organizations in the city. Frank didn’t care. If we’re being honest, neither did she.
She never had the same moral compass as Matt. She’d seen too much, been through too much. If Frank wanted to prevent these men from touching anther little girl, who was she to judge.
“You leave too much evidence. You’re making my papers write themselves.”
She felt him hold in a laugh that sounded much more like a huff of air,
“My bad, ma’am. I’ll make sure to burn the bodies next time.”
“Thank you.” She said, not stopping the smile growing this time.
“Why are you crying, if I may ask?” He said, knowing good and well it was about him.
She felt an urge to just tell him. “Because I have a feeling that after this call you won’t let me see you linger in the shadows anymore. Don’t leave. I love y-“
She shook her head and chose the safer truth, “It’s the anniversary of my brothers death.”
It wasn’t a lie, in a sense. She and Frank tried to avoid lying to each other. There wasn’t a reason to, not when they both could see through each other.
She waited for a gasp of air, or for him to hang up, anything to show he was listening.
After a minute, she started to believe the call dropped when he finally spoke,
“You need anything, Page?”
She paused. Matt or Foggy’s first instinct would have been to investigate,
“You have a brother?” “Since when?” “What was his name?” “Why did you never mention him?”
Hell, she would’ve done the same. But Frank knew her.
“Did you know already?”
He finally sighed and said, “It’s not my business ma’am…” He paused,
“But when we met. When you crossed that red line in the hospital after I had given up on my life, on my family. I saw it. There’s a look in someone’s eyes when they’re fighting for someone they have lost.”
She stayed silent after that, he probably thought she was mad,
“Like I said ma’am, it’s not my business. So I never asked. Never needed too I guess.”
She knew what he meant. It was more than “he saw it in my eyes”. He wouldn’t say it, but he probably knew her better than anyone. They didn’t have to speak, there was a certain strength that came with the looks and silent touches they gave each other.
“Thank you, Frank.”
This time, she heard his intake of breath. Frank wasn’t a good liar, he didn’t have to be. The man had nothing to hide from her. But that made it much easier to predict what he was going to do. There are very few times Frank could surprise her.
“For what?”
“I’m not even sure.” And it was the truth.
He made a humming noise and I felt the call go silent. The fear of his hanging up filled her like bile in her throat.
“Don’t leave”
His voice dropped lower, if that was even possible, “Thought I was dead to you ma’am.”
She thought carefully before saying,
“The Punisher is. You are not the punisher.”
She felt the air shift around her and she waited for him to speak.
“Don’t know if there’s anything left but the Punisher, ma’am.”
“There is. Punisher doesn’t call me ma’am. That’s all you, Castle.”
He laughed softly over the call and ended this before I got the chance to fight him about it,
“Goodnight, ma’am. You be safe.”
“Always the gentleman. Goodnight.”
She hung up and watched as he disappeared into the cloak of the night.
Karen knew it was probably delusional, but that felt like the first time he’s laughed in a long time.
She wasn’t giving that up.