_In another world_

______He can only hear the sound of his heart beating in his chest, echoing over and over again, at an abnormal rhythm, accompanied by this noise, this strange hissing sound that follows him. His vision is blurred, he is not even sure if he is still breathing. He doesn't know how but he managed to reach his building. The pain is such that he is unable to think and his teeth are so clenched that he wonders how they won't break. In order not to forget, he repeats in his head what he has to do: go home and call the doc, go home and call the doc, go home and call the doc. The "doc" is the name he gave to the guy who heals him when he gets hurt and doesn't have to go to the hospital to avoid being noticed. A surgeon fired for gross misconduct. Billy can pay him handsomely and that's enough for him to agree to operate illegally.

Billy clutches the banister of the staircase, he doesn't think about all the blood that marks his passage, he only thinks about pulling himself up to the next floor with all his strength. What a stupid idea to have taken an apartment that is not on the first floor. Note for later : moving. As he reaches his floor, he rests against a wall, looking for his door. Where the hell does he live? A groan escapes his lips, his head pounds, his body shakes slightly. He has lost so much blood that he wonders how he can still have any in his veins. Now he understands, that sound that follows him is his own breathing. Saccade, noisy, broken, wheezing, everything a breath shouldn't be. He takes off from the wall. One foot trembling in front of the other. His vision grows dim. He struggles. He clutches his injured leg with all his might to try to drag it in front of him, to take another step, to keep going. His bloody hand presses on his wet, bruised, oozing thigh. The pain constricts his stomach, he feels like he is being torn apart from the inside. He feels his forces abandoning him. His hand slides along his leg. He mumbles in an oppressive silence: go home and... He sees only dark red on the ground. Black.

He collapses on the floor. He has just lost consciousness.

______Since Frank came back into Karen's life, since she knows he is with David Lieberman. She drops by from time to time to bring the boys coffee. Today is such a day. She has accepted the idea that Frank wants to make all the people who were involved in the murder of his family pay, that he is decided to violently do the job that the cops are sometimes not able to do, not that she is for so much violence. Frank, on the other hand, has to accept the idea that Karen is too stubborn to be resigned, that she will do what she wants no matter what and continue to put herself in danger to get it and Frank, will just have to deal with it.

Karen sees in the back of the room, Frank and Micro busy with the computers, Frank just watching Lieberman do what he does best, a little puzzled.

"So? Anything new?"

The female voice echoes throughout the room a little too used to the gruff voices of the men in it. Frank turns instantly, moving closer to the pretty blonde.

"Hey Karen, no more for now... and you, how are you?"

He looks very concerned, still disturbed by the idea that she almost got shot in the head and that the man who threatened her life is still alive somewhere.

"I'm fine, Frank. I've got a lot of work to do, actually."

"You got an article to write today?"

"I have to interview a guy, no big deal."

She turns away from Frank to set the other coffee down next to Lieberman. Frank is still looking at her with that look, that special look, not really definable but only existing when he looks at her.

"Well, I have to go but let me know if anything happens, okay?"

Frank nods. They will. She walks past him again, a smile on her lips. The second she turns her back to him, her phone rings. She stops for a moment to pick up. Micro goes about his business as if they weren't there, but Frank frowns as he keeps his eyes on her. He can't hear anything being said on the other end of the wire, but he keeps listening, looking for any meaningful reaction. He gets it. She turns around with a jerk, eyes wide open, a half smile on her lips. Frank looks at her incredulously. He nods for her to tell him more. But she raises her hand, signaling him to wait.

"Yes, of course. I'll do it. Thank you sir, I'll get right on it today. Very well. Thanks, sir. Goodbye."

She hangs up, putting the phone down. Frank grows impatient.

"What?"

"You're not going to believe this... I just got off the phone with my boss, he wants me to write another article and interview a guy who just got arrested... Guess who? Billy Russo."

At those words even Micro turned around. He gets up and walks over to them.

"The guy who got away? The guy Frank shot?"

"Yes, this guy."

Frank goes from amazement to curiosity.

"What happened to him? Where is he now?"

"I didn't get all the details but apparently he's in the hospital, they found him unconscious in his building. And, apparently, the cops have something against him... it seems that the ghost is not a ghost anymore."

______A peculiar smell grazes his nostrils. It's not a particularly pleasant smell, one he knows but hasn't smelled in a long time. Something else strikes him before he opens his eyes, he is comfortable. Something soft, smooth, clean lies beneath him. Obviously, he is not at the doc's house. Clearly, he feels too good for this to be, paradoxically, good news. The light blinds him slightly and all that whiteness. He's not really in pain. It's not normal. He should be in pain. He should be waking up in a seedy place after getting butchered by a failed surgeon, he should be dirty, covered in blood, overrun with the smell of alcohol. He finally realizes, he is in the hospital. His primal instinct is to anguish. How did he end up there? He begins to fidget slightly, looking around for a way out quickly. But when he raises his hand to his face his movement is cut off violently by something sawing his wrist and squeezing it unnaturally. Still slightly out of it and quite slow to react, his eyes land on his hand, eyebrows furrowed, he is handcuffed to the bed. Shit. This is worse than any scenario he'd imagined. How is this even possible? How can he end up in the hospital and what's more, tied up? He doesn't have time to think about it more than a doctor and an orderly enter the room. It is when the door opens that his eyebrows frown even more, he sees a shoulder of back, covered with a fabric of a familiar blue, a policeman.

The doctor is a relatively old man, a haughty look on his face, round glasses on the tip of his nose, papers in his hands. He doesn't even look at Billy as he enters, doesn't bother to greet him either, just stands in front of his bed. When he finally looks up at Billy he looks at least a little surprised. Billy raises an eyebrow.

"Ah, you're awake? That's good. I'll give you a quick rundown then, you were shot in two places, shoulder and thigh, no vital organs were hit, I think you'll agree, you're alive."

The doctor continues his speech. He talks to Billy as if he were talking to an idiot. His voice is very unpleasant to Billy's ears, or maybe it's just the man annoying him, making everything about him extremely contemptible. He only half listens to him, preferring to focus his attention on the young woman analyzing the machine next to him. She is not unpleasant to look at, though. She is concentrated on her task and does not pay attention to him. Until his insistent gaze forces her to turn away from her concerns. She sets her eyes on Billy, who smiles mechanically at her, with that charming smile. She raises her eyebrows, absolutely indifferent. Billy, clearly hurt in his ego, turns back to the annoying old man.

"Anyway, there you go, all that to say that if you hadn't been running, you would have avoided some of the damage...you'll think twice next time before running with a bullet in your leg."

The haughty, sanctimonious tone almost makes Billy want to throw up. He hates the superior tone of people who have the absolute feeling of being someone better. Billy is nevertheless used to being judged attively without trying to understand. Even if, the situation, he can admit it, does not put him particularly in value.

"I'll try to remember that the next time I have a choice between running or dying. One less job for the hospital, one more for the morgue. Do you make money every time you talk shit or how does it work?"

"I wouldn't get smart with me if I were you, Mr. Russo. You were extremely lucky. You could have lost your leg and much more. I had to leave a few pieces in your shoulder, removing them would have been too risky. But you will recover fully, at least as far as the wounds are concerned."

The doctor glances at the cops standing in front of the door, emphasizing to Billy that he is far from out of the woods. Then he leaves the room without saying another word. The young woman is still there. Billy naturally sets his eyes on the only person present.

"What's his problem? He seriously needs to chill out, do anything to relax."

She can't help but giggle, agreeing with him but not saying anything. She fills out some paperwork and then checks off a few boxes and finally puts down what she has in her hands and turns to Billy.

"I'm going to have to clean your wounds, to avoid infection. Is it okay if I do that now?"

Billy nods, a little surprised by her gentleness despite her professionalism. But before she does anything. A man in uniform enters quickly, saying nothing, positioning himself at the other end of the room, one hand on his gun. Billy follows him with his eyes before another person bursts in. A slim young woman, dressed in a nice suit that shows her off. Curly, dark brown hair, a strict and severe look but a pretty woman all the same.

"Mr. Russo, I was told you were awake. I'm Dinah Madani, an agent of the Department of Homeland Security. Could you leave us alone, please?"

"I need to clean his wounds."

"Can it wait until the end of our discussion?"

She thought seriously before turning her gaze to Billy.

"Yes, of course, it can wait."

She turns away from him, heading for the door but stops short at the sight of another person entering. Karen Page. Billy doesn't really notice the blonde at first, he just notices that someone else has entered the room. He is seriously starting to get nervous. All this commotion around him is making him worried and he should be. So all he can do to relieve his stress is to make a joke.

"Anyone can waltz into this room as they please, nobody has learned to knock here, or what? In fact, it's like an open house party."

Only the nurse lets out a small laugh, immediately biting her lower lip. She doesn't see it, but Billy gives her a short, grateful, victorious look. Karen then speaks up, saying she'll come back when he's done with the police and homeland security, then leaves the room followed by the pretty nurse. Billy has clearly recognized Karen but this is not the time to focus on that information. Once it's just the three of them in the room, he sets his eyes on the agent, a relaxed face and charming air completely camouflaging his inner state.

"You're not really the kind of case I'm concerned about, Mr. Russo. At least, not at first glance. But I think you have information that might interest me."

"Excuse me, but... I think you're getting ahead of yourself... why am I in handcuffs? And how did I get here?"

"These are legitimate questions. I've got a better one, why have we never heard of you? After all the things you've done... Your business is not the most legal."

Billy frowns. What exactly do they know? He's always extremely careful, he's never been suspected of anything so what's going on? They can't have anything tangible against him, it's impossible.

"I don't know what you're talking about... if you haven't heard of me, it's just because I'm an upstanding citizen with nothing to be ashamed of..."

The young woman smiles viciously, proud to be one step ahead, to have the advantage in this discussion. She makes a quick sign to the stoic cop next to her who immediately hands her a file. Madani picks it up, her eyes still on Billy. She approaches him and violently drops the heavy folder on his legs. A breath of surprise escapes from his lips, the weight forcing him to move throwing him a sudden, painful discharge in the thigh. He throws her a black glance. She unties one of his wrists so that he can reach the document. She made on purpose to let it fall on his legs, on purpose to hurt him and on purpose to oblige him to bend down to recover the file with one hand. Not offering him help at any point in the process, not that he wanted it from her.

"We don't have the same definition of an upstanding citizen."

Billy looks away from her to the leaves in his hands. He doesn't expect anything, convinced that they won't have anything terrible against him. But when he finally opens the folder, his heart skips a beat. All the most horrible crimes he has committed, or almost, are between these lines. Murders, fights, assaults, gunrunning and illegal use and more. Billy did kill that guy in the picture and that other guy here. But how do they know he's the man behind all of it? How did they trace his name?
Billy remains cold and distant. This is not the time to prove them right and look more suspicious than he already is. He quickly flips through the rest, there's no trace of evidence, it's just unsolved open cases.

"I'm not sure I understand what exactly I'm looking at..."

"Let's not play that game, shall we?"

Dinah quickly turns the pages in front of Billy bringing herself back to a hidden part he hasn't had time to discover yet. She pulls out targeted sheets. Lining them up carefully in front of him. Billy grits his teeth. This can't be happening. In front of his eyes are pictures of him standing next to victims hours before their deaths, there are also email exchanges where his name is mentioned several times, nothing incriminating him directly but all this evidence linked together making him abnormally present in dangerous and criminal contexts. Billy would like to speak but words fail him. His throat is dry and his mouth is pasty. The young woman stares at him; he doesn't look back.

"Mr. Russo, as you can imagine, we didn't magically find this information in our archives. I don't know who wants to bring you down or who is the vigilante behind this act, there is no shortage of them in this city, but I found this little gift in my office along with a simple letter."

She takes the letter out of her pocket, unfolding it slowly. Billy reads the piece of paper diagonally. He refuses to believe what he is reading. His whole world is falling apart. He feels as if someone is pressing firmly against his rib cage, preventing him from filling his lungs. It is an anonymous letter of accusation naming Billy Russo as the perpetrator of several crimes and recommending reading the evidence provided, but it's the end of the message that is most disturbing. His address is given.

"And you believe everything you are told? This... this is not tangible evidence... there's nothing really concrete in there..."

"It's not for me to judge, save your speech for the court. Think about getting a good lawyer instead. I know you're just an enforcer, you get paid and you do. Who hired you, Mr. Russo? You've dealt with the Punisher, haven't you? He's the one who sent you here, Frank Castle. What do you know about him?"

"What they're saying in the papers. I don't have answers for you. You got the wrong guy."

Realizing he's not going to say anything more and risk getting burned. She takes the file in silence. Brutally seizes his wrist to tighten it again between the cold steel of the handcuffs. She moves away making sign to the policeman to follow her but before crossing the door, she turns to him one last time catching his black eyes.

"I'm sure you're a smart person. You played and you lost. I don't know what you think you're saving by not saying anything but you'll change your mind. There's nothing to save, you can only hope to limit the damage now, Mr. Russo. Your apartment has been seized, your accounts have been suspended and temporarily frozen, all your assets have been taken away from you until your trial is over."

At these words, Dinah Madani exits the room, leaving Billy despondent. When did things get so out of hand? A few hours ago, he was rich, powerful, feared and unknown to the police. At what point did he actually lose control of his life?

Someone knocks on the door. Billy must admit to appreciating the effort this time of not walking in unannounced like an avenging superhero straight out of a cliché movie. Karen then enters slowly, closing the door behind her. Billy swallows. Of course, she was the only one left to deliver the fatal blow.

"It seems like every time I get in trouble, you're not far behind, Miss Page."

"You've only been in trouble twice in your life?"

"Good point. That’s fair."

Billy looks away and Karen moves closer. He looks different, physically fitter but clearly less confident, not really in his element.

"At least you're alive..."

"Is this good news for you?"

Karen smiles, with a smile that means "no, not especially, but I am intrigued by what comes next". She sits down on the chair next to him, he examines her, perplexed.

"You're going to make the papers, you know...."

Billy's face breaks down. News travels fast, far too fast for his taste. Now he remembers, Karen Page helped Frank with his trial, she was working with the law firm whose name he is unable to remember. Two guys, a little special.

"So, you're a journalist now... What can I do to dissuade you from writing an article about me?"

"That's not really up to me. What do you know about William Rawlins?"

Billy frowns. Then he nods, looking away again.

"You're not here for me..."

"I can kill two birds with one stone."

"You're wasting your time."

"Someone has betrayed you, again. Who did? You have nothing left to lose, tell me what you know."

Billy chuckles, then looks up and raises his eyebrows. Tell her everything he knows? Just like that? No way. He may not have many cards left to play, but he obviously still has some in his hand. Karen insists, but Billy looks at her with those annoying eyes. That superior look. She sighs and steps away from him. He doesn't admit defeat yet. Karen sees it in the cold blackness of his irises, that little spark still shines, that little glow. The one he had when they first met, the one that means he still has ideas in the back of his head. She smiles again, almost admiringly.

"I'll come back another day... when you have your ideas more in place."

He challenges her with his eyes but says nothing. She walks away before stopping short, her lips curling into a smile. She turns to him one last time, her eyes shining, as if she'd just rethought a joke.

"And Now?"

Billy looks at her surprised then gives way to a wide, sincere smile, revealing all his teeth. It's the first real smile she's seen on his face. But she said that to sting him, it's over for him, Frank didn't kill him but he's going to jail for the rest of his life. Yet, deep down she could swear she has a feeling that things aren't going to end there. She shakes her head as she leaves, maintaining her smile. He lost this time and he will pay for all the crimes he committed, she is sure of that.

______After a long and exhausting day, Karen walks home, pensive. Her street is still very noisy but the bustle has a reassuring side. She puts her things on the couch and instinctively heads for the fridge. When she opens it, a heavy sigh escapes from her lips. She forgot to do the shopping. After a few seconds to weigh the pros and cons, she takes on her and decides to go out again while it is not too late. She recovers her bag and her coat and with an assured but annoyed step, she leaves her house. She takes care to lock the door. It is strange, a known sensation crosses her stomach, a bad feeling. She decides to ignore it, she is not the paranoid type but rather reckless.

___________________________________________________________________________

Karen's last words echoed through Billy. The moment she leaves the room, his brain kicks in. He received all this news like a sledgehammer to the back of his head. He puts things down quickly. He's hurt but he's received very good care. Obviously, he will recover quickly from his injuries. He has been arrested by the police, he is under investigation and he is indeed the culprit of what he is accused of. He was betrayed. Someone gave him to the cops, but who? The list of suspects is long. Billy had time to make enemies. Meanwhile, he's got no apartment, no car and apparently no money. And now, right now, he's strapped to a hospital bed. He doesn't know how he's going to solve all these problems, but one thing's for sure, he's not going to do it by lying there.

Just after the pretty blonde left, the young nurse returned, changing the bandages as she said she would.

"Before you leave...can you tell the cops outside the door that I need to relieve myself?"

She nods. He can hear her comply. There are obviously only two men outside his door. Two men of imposing build, one baton each, tasers and a service weapon. Quickly, they enter in silence. One takes up a position close to the bed but keeping a distance and the other moves closer to Billy's hands, releasing them, one after the other. Neither of them points their guns at Billy, they are obviously confident in their ability and speed of reaction.

"Hurry up."

The hostility is not surprising. Billy struggles to his feet, feeling his ability to stand on his legs. When he finally gets both feet on the ground, a twinge is felt in his thigh but nothing he can't handle. He can walk and that's good news. It is going to be necessary to welcome each small good news with spirit if he wants to remain optimistic compared to the continuation of the events. Reaching the toilets, he tries to close the door behind him but one of the men cuts him in his dash, pointing out to him that they must be able to see him. He has the right to leave the door ajar to preserve his modesty. He analyses his options. He doesn't need to go to the bathroom at all, all he wanted was to free his hands. He takes a deep breath. In these cases, there are not thirty-six thousand solutions. Okay, here we go. Let the show begin.

___________________________________________________________________________

Karen goes to the little shop at the end of her street. She takes a few beers, some food and a few products that she misses. She thinks of Frank. She has a hard time getting him out of her thoughts. He is so stubborn. But so is she. She hasn't heard from him since the morning, she never knows if that's a good thing or a bad thing. On the one hand it may be reassuring, she didn't get a panicked call to warn her that he is seriously injured and needs her, on the other hand, he could very well be dying somewhere and she doesn't know it. She pushes the thought away. It doesn't help. It's better to believe he's immortal, he's Frank after all. Finally, her thoughts wander to Billy Russo. She doesn't really know what to think of him. But one thing is for sure, he's not a good person. It's a good thing he's going to jail, she doesn't like all the violence around Frank, so it's also a good thing he's not dead too.

___________________________________________________________________________

"What the fuck is this shit, oh… GOD!"

Billy takes on the most panicked voice he has in stock. One of the men rushes over looking automatically in the direction Billy's horrified face indicates. The second he gets close enough and focused enough, looking for something that doesn't exist. Billy grabs the baton hanging from the man's belt and then hits him once in the back before hitting him a second time in the ribs. The second officer, alarmed by his colleague's screams, rushes into the room with his gun clutched between his fingers. Billy grabs his arm, disarms him, sending his firm knee crashing into his stomach. The other man has already gotten up, grabs Billy by the shoulder who quickly ducks on contact, spinning around, locking his arm in the process and sending his elbow colliding with his face. He takes a quick baton blow to the back, causing him to stumble back to his bed, Billy is a little stunned, receiving two firm punches to the face. But he soon comes to his senses. Billy is fast, agile and over-trained. He quickly takes over the situation. With a few hard blows, he has knocked both of his opponents to the ground, completely knocked out.

___________________________________________________________________________

Billy has been sitting on this chair for several minutes. In complete darkness. A gun in his hand, resting on his leg. He stares at the front door, watching for any movement. Silence echoes in the room, he can only wait for the clock to tick behind him, counting each second at a steady pace.

___________________________________________________________________________

Billy is out of breath. He looks at his work for a moment analyzing the build of the two men. The man waiting outside the bathroom is the one who comes closest to his height. He has no time to lose, he undresses this man, putting on the uniform. He has dark navy blue pants and a black t-shirt covered with the significant law enforcement jacket. There's a little blood on the clothes but it will do. Billy runs his fingers through his messy hair to pull it back, positioning the kepi that goes with the uniform on his head.

Billy exits the room silently, scanning the hallway for other police officers. It seems he is not a criminal considered to need more than two men to watch him. Good for him. He walks out of the hospital quickly, as quickly as he can without looking strange. He hides his face with his headgear, he doesn't really know who would recognize him but he doesn't want to take the risk. In less time than it takes, he is finally outside. He removes any clothing decorated with the badge or the letters "NYPD". Fortunately, his pants are just combat pants and the shirt has no distinguishing marks. He also throws the belt with the baton and taser into the garbage can behind the hospital. He only keeps the gun with him. This is where the first part of his plan ends. He'll have to keep improvising. He looks carefully all around him, waiting for an idea to come to him as if by magic. He spots a recognizable blonde head in the distance, a slight smile forms on his lips. He has found it, the second part of his plan.

___________________________________________________________________________

Karen quickly bought what she needed. When she arrives at her door, the strange feeling comes over her again. She frowns as she slides her key into her lock, the door is already open. Did she forget to lock the door? She starts to doubt, she could in the haste and the annoyance closed the door without thinking of locking. She manages to convince herself that she is worrying for nothing, that she is imagining things, but in an almost uncontrolled reflex, she sends a quick message to Frank asking him to call her and then puts her phone on silent. If something happens, she won't be able to answer, he'll worry and come to her house.

She opens the door and swallows loudly before entering. It is dark in the room, that reassures her. She takes off her coat and puts her things on the floor when suddenly a small lamp lights up on the other side of the room, next to her bookcase. Her breath catches but at the same time, it's not like she wasn't expecting it. A tall, thin man sits in her chair, a gun in his hand, resting on his leg. She recognizes him, of course, instantly : Billy Russo.

He straightens his head and stares at her before standing up slowly and carefully, raising his gun to point it at her at the same time. He has a rather serious air, he lost his charming and cheerful side. A cold sweat beads down Karen's back. She had forgotten how scary he could be, standing up, not lying in a hospital bed, not tied up.

"Now? Now I'm going to need your services, Miss Page."