About time
Frank had never been one for routine. The military, the war, the mission—they all demanded structure, but never comfort. Only time he felt truly at ease was at home, with his kids and his wife. He hadn’t felt that in a long time. Now, though, that comfort he missed had crept in, unwelcome yet persistent, in the form of Karen Page.
They had fallen into a rhythm, moving around each other in the apartment with an ease that should have unnerved him, but didn’t. He stopped considering it his apartment when she stopped acting like a guest and began leaving her empty coffee cups on every surface with an empty space.
It wasn’t domestic, not exactly, but it was close. Meals together, quiet conversations, moments of silence that weren’t empty. The dog—Karen had half-jokingly named Lucky—had become a fixture in both of their lives, dragging them out for morning and evening walks, forcing Frank into something resembling normalcy. Frank didn’t want to admit it, but he missed caring for something. His life revolved around that family of his and now that they were gone, he needed something to fight for. That became that damn dog. And her.
One afternoon, Karen got off early (which Frank noticed she had been doing more and more the longer she lived with him) so the three of them took a walk through the park. Lucky tugged at the leash and Karen’s gloved hands were stuffed into her coat pockets. The cold had settled in, sharp against Frank’s skin, but Karen seemed to embrace it, her breath curling in the air as she talked. She was telling some story about her childhood in Vermont, something about sneaking out to see the stars from the hills behind her house, but Frank wasn’t really focused on the words. He was listening to her voice, the warmth in it, the way she laughed softly at her own memories. It was hard for her to talk about her past, he noticed. Karen didn’t speak of her childhood often and when she did it was in unfinished sentences and a dark shadow cloaking her. Not today though. Today, she was smiling (another habit she seemed to gain the longer she stayed with him).
He stole glances at her when he thought she wouldn’t notice, the way the lamplight brushed against her cheekbones, how her hair spilled from under her hat, how her smile reached her eyes when she spoke. She looked beautiful, effortlessly so, and it made something in his chest ache. He wished he was brave enough to lean in and kiss her. To close the space between them and taste the warmth on her lips. But he wasn’t. Not yet.
Frank didn’t know why he didn’t feel guilty about this. He should. He was thinking about a woman other than his wife in a romantic sense. There’s no point in denying is anymore. He wanted Karen. And not just in a “I need you safe and I get jealous when I hear about you and Red” kind of way. Not like before.
She was all he wanted, she was everything. Frank knew all too well what the pain in his chest was. That undying, unyeilding, ache he felt when he looked at her. And he looked. He saw her. She saw him. And he knew he wasn’t along in his thoughts. Karen was the brave one. She wasn’t scared to look at him clean his wounds after a long night, or to lean her head on his shoulder when they sat together. But he was not ready. He wished he was.
“You’re quiet,” she said, nudging him with her shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
Frank glanced at her, at the way the streetlights made her eyes shine. Her cheeks were red from the cold and her eyebrows scrunched the way they tended to do when she was investigating something, or someone.
“Nothin’.” He said. Frank didn’t lie to Karen. It was the unspoken fact between them. They didn’t lie. And he really didn’t think he was lying. Nothing was going on in his head. It was his heart that was freaking out right now. He was so grateful Red wasn’t here to hear the extra skip in his chest when she looked at him.
Karen scoffed. “Yeah, sure. Frank Castle’s mind? A total void.”
He smirked, just a little. Karen was beautiful, but she was also funny. “Somethin’ like that.”
They kept walking, the silence stretching between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was easy. Lucky trotted ahead, pausing now and then to sniff at lampposts and trees. Frank watched as Karen reached down to scratch behind the dog’s ears, her touch gentle. Frank wondered what it would feel like to have her touch him like that. Without a care to stop her.
“You like having him around,” he observed. Karen cared more about the dog than he did, which is saying a lot because Frank did in fact have a soft spot for dogs.
Karen smiled. “Yeah. He’s a good boy.” She glanced up at him. “And you? You like having him around?”
Frank shrugged. “Gets me out. Gives me somethin’ to do.”
Karen studied him for a beat. “I think he’s good for you.”
Frank didn’t answer, but his fingers flexed slightly around the leash. Good for him. He wasn’t sure what to do with that.
After their talk a few weeks ago, Frank and Karen stopped leaning with distrust. Old Frank would’ve questioned when she said that,
“What do you mean? You think you know what’s good for me?” But this Frank, the one who went on walks and made an extra pot of coffee every morning because he knew it would make her happy; this Frank just nodded and kept walking.
———————————
Frank had such a long day at work. Frank found the construction scene relatively calming. It was never complicated; he knew his role and never stepped out of it.
Frank was apparently worker of the fucking year because his boss told him for a $20 raise, all Frank would have to do is manage this project.
But recently, the project was found to have mold in the basement. The whole basement.
Frank wanted to quit right then and there. He didn’t need the money as long as he was still Punisher. Criminals had a tendency to leave their stuff behind when they went six feet under. But as Karen reminded him, Pete Castiglione needed a job. He needed a place of residence and some sort of stable life for the government to keep track up. So he stayed an extra 3 hours to handle it and sent his coworkers home.
When he got home, he spotted Karen in her usual spot on the couch with a book in her hand.
“Hey, what happened? I was worried.” Karen said, snapping her book shut.
Frank stood for a moment. It had been a while since he had someone waiting for him at home. He didn’t think.
“I’m sorry, somethin’ went wrong at the site. I forgot to call. It won’t happen again.”
She nodded at that and patted the seat next to her. They settled into the living room. The fireplace crackled, throwing flickering light across the space. Karen had his book in her hands, curled up on the couch, while Frank sat beside her and grabbed a newspaper on the table. Only reason he had it delivered anymore was so he could read her articles in the spare time. He scans it and spots her name at the top of the page, as always. It was an article she already had him read a couple days ago.
That was another thing. He didn’t have to search the web or wait for the newspaper to learn what she was up to. It was different now. She was with him. In one way or another, he didn’t have to wait for news. She came to him.
It was nice.
It had started slowly—her leaning against him, his arm stretched along the back of the couch, her warmth pressing into his side. He didn’t move away.
At some point, she shifted, tucking herself closer, and Frank let his arm settle around her without thinking. She smelled like coffee and something soft, something that had worked its way into his bones. He felt her sigh against him, turning a page.
“You’re gonna fall asleep like this,” he murmured.
Karen hummed. “Maybe.”
He looked down at her, at the way she fit against him so easily, and something twisted in his chest. He should say something, address the thing that had been gnawing at the back of his mind—why she hadn’t pushed for more. Why she hadn’t tried to kiss him or expected anything beyond this. He wanted to ask. He didn’t know how.
He started to speak, then stopped. His throat tightened. It wasn’t something he was good at—talking about this kind of thing.
Karen, as always, seemed to know. She shifted, looking up at him. “Frank?”
He swallowed. “You—” He hesitated. “You ain’t waiting on me, are you?”
Her brows furrowed. “For what?”
He exhaled through his nose, his grip tightening on the newspaper. “For me to—I don’t know. Move things along.”
Karen watched him for a moment before shaking her head. “Frank.” She sat up slightly, still close. “That’s not what this is about.”
He frowned, trying to decipher what she meant. Karen reached for his hand, lacing their fingers together. “I’m here. With you. Not because I’m waiting for something, but because I want to be.”
He wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he just nodded.
Frank wasn’t nearly as selfless as he thought he was. Because a good man would’ve let her go. A good man would have told her that he doesn’t know if he will ever be ready and she shouldn’t be waiting around for a man who died a long time ago. But he was never a good man. And for now, he was okay with that.
Karen squeezed his hand. “If and when that happens, it happens. But I don’t need it to.”
His chest ached, something foreign and heavy. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmured.
Karen smiled, brushing her nose against his. “One day, you’ll see that you very much do.”
—————
Dinner with Curtis was a quieter affair, the three of them eating takeout in the living room, the dog curled up at Karen’s feet. Curtis, as always, took everything in stride, cracking jokes and keeping things light.
“One time we were in the desert and Frank thought it was a good idea to get a picture of himself for Sara and the kids. Of course I said yes, the poor guy begged me for help-“
“I did not beg.”
“Semantics. Anyways, He took my ass to the top of a dune and told me he was going to roll down so his baby girl had something to laugh at. Now did I think this was stupid, yes. Did I want him to see the consequences of his actions? Also yes. So I waited for him to roll and all of a sudden I hear a yelp from the bottom of the dune. I look down and Frank has a Saharan Horned Viper attached to his ass.”
Karen bursted out laughing at Franks benefit and he felt a smile pushing at his face. Frank would let Curtis say a million embarrassing stories about him if it kept her looking at him like this.
The conversation inevitably shifted to the case.
“I got some updates,” Curtis said, setting his container down. “Nothing concrete yet, but I’ve got a couple guys looking into the shipments we talked about. There’s definitely movement, but no idea who’s pulling the strings yet.”
Frank nodded, his jaw tight. “Let me know the second you do.”
Karen glanced at him, then at Curtis. “And let me know, too.”
Frank sighed but didn’t argue. She wasn’t going to be left out of this—he knew that much. Frank never wanted to limit her investigating, she wouldn’t be Karen if she wasn’t as curious as a cat. But it meant that he had to watch out for two instead of just himself. He found that he was more comfortable with that than he thought.
——
A few nights later, Karen is on a call as she comes into the house.
“Thank you so much. I really appreciate it.”
The look on her face did not look grateful, but Frank waited for her to explain.
“It’s almost done, my apartment” she said, sitting on the kitchen counter, watching him clean his gun. “The landlord says I can move back in next week.”
Frank didn’t look up. “Yeah.”
Karen studied him. “I haven’t decided yet.”
That got his attention. He set the gun down, eyes meeting hers. “What?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know if I want to go back. Not yet.”
Frank’s chest tightened. They didn’t talk about it. If Frank is being honest, he forgot she didn’t live with him. The guest room slowly became her space and he didn’t question it.
He wanted to tell her to stay. Wanted to say it outright. But instead, he nodded. “Your call.”
A fucking coward
Karen hopped off the counter, stepping into his space. She put a hand on his and put the gun down, making sure the safety was on. He smiled at that. He taught her well.
“Frank,” she said, softer now. “What are you thinking?”
He exhaled, running a hand through his hair and leaving his hands by his side, “Just… didn’t expect you to want to stay, that’s all.”
Karen tilted her head. “Why?”
“I don’t exactly lead a normal life, Karen. I come home at odd hours and leave little room for people in my space-“
She cut him off, “That’s not true. You call me if you are going to home later than 2 AM so I don’t stay up waiting. You make me coffee every morning and I never have to ask. I get new flowers once every other week. You leave me more than a little space. You let me in.”
Frank didn’t know what to say to that. It was true. He let her into his life without even trying to.
But that’s not even the big deal. He didn’t intend to want her here. He didn’t have to try. It won’t matter until he tries. He has to admit it.
Frank shrugged. “Figured you’d want normal. Figured you’d want me to stop—” He gestured vaguely.
Karen’s eyes softened at that and she reached for his hands. “I don’t want you to change, Frank. It’s not my job.”
His gaze flickered to hers, searching. “You don’t?”
She shook her head. “I just want you safe. And with me. I like being here with you, and with Lucky. And I know you aren’t used to this and you aren’t ready for some things and I am completely fine with that. There is no pressure or rush with this. But I want my intentions to be clear. I want to be here. I want you. I want you for a long time, Frank Castle.”
Something in him cracked. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it made him step closer, made him reach for her waist, made him tilt his head down until their noses brushed.
Karen didn’t move away. She looked up at him, patient, waiting.
“Karen,” he rasped.
She smiled. “It’s okay. You trust me”
He nodded.
And then he kissed her.
It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t careful. It was months—years—of something neither of them had words for. Her fingers curled into his shirt, his hands tightened at her waist. Frank felt her hands lift his shirt just enough to have her hands on his skin. They were cold. She ran cold. He copied the motion, except he felt his hands lower just a little under her waistband so he could feel the lining of her underwear. She gasped and he took the opportunity to taste her a little more. He felt himself push her on the counter and her legs wrapped around his waist. He felt himself growing in his pants and a moan left Karen’s mouth. He swallowed the soul and pushed one hand into her hair and the other remaining under her shirt. The hand in her hair gripped the base of her scalp and pulled just enough to pull a moan out of her mouth.
All of a sudden, they heard a bark from the corner of the room. Karen gasped and Frank removed his lips from hers. They snapped their heads to a sneaky Lucky in the corner with his leash in his mouth. Frank could swear that there was a smile on that mutt’s face.
He looked at Karen’s flush face and noticed small things about her. Her cheeks were red and her lips looked bruised. Her normally straight hair looked messy and he realized that he most likely looked very similar. He rested his forehead against hers again, breathing hard.
Karen smiled “About time.”
Frank huffed out something like a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah.”
And for the first time in too long, he let himself hold onto something good.