Frank I’m-secretly-a-teddy-bear Castle was due back home today and you were not sure how you would handle it. Not because his return pained you, quite the opposite, but because of...everything he would find that would most certainly not be pleasant.
You looked at yourself in the mirror and grimaced. Yeah, somebody was going to pay. You took two big gulps from the scotch bottle and wondered if it would kill you to take another one. On the other hand, the idea of an IV drip of scotch was starting to grow on you. Yeah, you were definitely not okay.
Your body was leaning right and you only realised it because something was off in your reflection. You squinted a little, moving closer to it. The bruising had faded somewhat. Or maybe you were just too drunk to see it clearly now. Either way, at least it didn’t hurt now. You struggled to get one of Frank’s shirts over your head and sighed when the comforting material enveloped you. There wasn’t a lot to be done about it, so you stumbled towards the bed, curled up under the thick blankets, and promptly passed out.
The sound of heavy footsteps woke you. You were still quite drunk, which meant you had not been asleep for long. You saw Frank as he crossed from the kitchen towards the big table where he kept his weapons. You felt slow, too, and you were sure it was taking you too long to process everything Frank was doing. He started walking towards the bed and you smiled, tried to sit up but somehow ended up tangled with the bedsheets and slumped back against the wall behind the mattress. You really needed a headboard. You whined, which was embarrassing, but there wasn’t much you could do about it.
Frank had taken off his Punisher gear and as he sat on the edge of the bed in a long sleeved shirt you ran your eyes over him. No injuries that you could see. That made you smile.
“Doll face?” Frank asked in a low voice. You hummed at the nickname, almost preening. “Are you drunk?”
“Mmm’yes.” You were perhaps more drunk than you’d thought. “Needed a drink.”
Frank’s fingers were gentle as he touched your cheek, frowning at your swollen eyes, and the red skin of your nose. “Were you crying?”
You sniffled in response. You had tried not to think about it but it wasn’t easy and now that the surge of adrenaline had gone down and you were drunk it was harder and harder to stay still and not cry. Frank was home now and if there was one thing in the world which brought you comfort was Frank. With shaking hands you pushed the covers down and tugged the shirt you were wearing up and off. Frank’s sharp inhale of breath only made your tears flow faster.
Frank frowned as he looked at the bruising. It covered most of your chest, but he could see it on your arms as well. “What happened?”
It had been an accident. Or so you’d thought, at first. You’d been crossing the street and the pickup hadn’t stopped in time. It hadn’t been going fast, but you’d rolled off the hood nonetheless, felt like you’d been hit by...well, a truck. The ER had cleared you and you’d gone home and really, what more was there to say?
Frank’s arms curled curled protectively around you and you cried, holding onto him, the fear of dying coming to the surface to claim you in a way it hadn’t before. You started hiccuping after a while, but Frank didn’t move, he kept rubbing your back, his warmth soothing you back to sleep.
You suspected Frank had found out who’d hurt you, but you didn’t press him about it. You were confined to the safe house for the time being and, truth be told, you were glad. You didn’t want to go out, to be out and about so soon after that experience was not on your list of things you wanted to do anytime soon.
It was a pleasant surprise when you woke up to find a new pot by the bedroom door, the deep green of the leaves warming your heart in the morning light. You pulled Frank’s pillow close and burrowed further under the covers, smiling. You’d thank Frank when he got home. For now you had to think of a new name for the newest addition to your (plant) family.