Chapter Thirteen
Frank felt like a murderer.
Her costume was torn and stained with blood. Her chest was still and her body limp.
“No no no.” He quickly fell to his knees and brought her body into his arms. “Come on bug don’t do this to me. Don’t do this ‘bug you can get back up I know you can.” He murmured these orders, these pleas like a broken record as he checked her pulse only find the confirmation of his fears.
Jitterbug was dead and it was all his fault.
He didn’t noticed the crowd that gathered around him and the fallen hero until he saw their shadow looming over him.
“You just let this happen?” A woman scoffed. “Disgusting.”
“No I-”
“And to think we’re supposed to trust the cops in this city.” A man wearing a Spider-Woman shirt piped up.
“Yeah that’ll be the fucking day.”
“Mommy what’s wrong with Jitterbug!” A young boy cried, his mother held him close to her chest and glared at Frank.
“She’s gone sweetie.”
She’s gone. She’s actually gone.
His chest felt tight and suddenly it was getting hard to breathe. It was all too loud, all the jeers and insults from onlookers echoed in his ears and he could heard it all again. Her scream of pain as she was shot and the shouting of his brothers back in afghanistan Christ it was all melting together and becoming too much and-
“Daad! Wake up!”
He shot up from his seat, causing papers to fly everywhere and his daughter Lisa to jump back.
“Jeez!” The thirteen year old laid a cautious hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”
He looked around him. He was in his house. His desk had been formerly covered in papers about the case that now covered the floors, coated in frantic chicken scratch scribbled at 3am as he tried to find a way to find Jitterbug.
Damn, it must've all been a dream then.
Two days ago, Spider-Woman told him she was going to work alone for the next few days. She planned on speaking to every other super-hero, villain and even a few neutral bodies about if they knew anything or anyway to get her back.
That meant benching him, leaving him with nothing to do but work normal cases and try to quell his panicked thoughts.
“Try not to worry.” She had told him. Yeah, because that was possible. “There’s nothing you can do right now to help besides help keep the streets safe and get some rest. She’d want you to take a break you know. I’ll get back to you with more info soon frank.”
The first one he did, going to work each day and making sure he did his part to make the city a safer place. But the second one? Not so much.
But now as his thirteen year old daughter chastised the mess of his room and his ratty old pj’s, he wondered if maybe he should take a break.
He sat up, back popping and cracking as he did. “Lisa? What are you doing here?” His daughter picked up the papers that covered the floors.
“Mom brought us by to check up on you. She said you may be going crazy over work again.” She looked down at the papers in her hands. “What are these?”
He quickly swiped them from her and tucked them into the drawer of his desk. “Case work. So your mom brought you by?”
“Frankie too. He’s downstairs in the kitchen with her.”
He blinked for a moment, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes before freezing and realizing what she had just said.
“She’s downstairs?”
The smug grin on his daughter’s face only slammed the nail down into the coffin of how much deep shit he was truly in.
“Yup.”
“Oh no.”
“Francis David Castle I can hear that you're awake!” Maria shouted from down the hall. “You better get in here now!”
“Yeah I’m coming.” He swooped Lisa into his arms and over his shoulder, she shrieked and giggled as he shuffled out of his room and down the hall. “Just had to grab some precious cargo.”
His daughter whined and covered her face. “Daad!” Maria giggled.
“Precious cargo indeed.” Frank set his daughter into a chair at the dinner table before turning to his ex-wife. She was beautiful as always.
“Hi M.”
She cracked a smile. He always did know how to make her smile. “Hi Frank. Junior is in the back taking Max outside while I try to asses the damage here.” She motioned to his bedhead and pajamas.
“Hey, they're comfy!”
“They’re from college!” He looked down at the old shirt he wore and sure enough it was his old college wrestling shirt. It was back from when he was just starting to bulk up so it was a bit tight around his biceps and chest. He should probably get rid of it.
“And you drool in your sleep.” Lisa added. He wiped his face to feel the dried substance on the side of his mouth. Both Maria and Lisa shared a little laugh at him.
“Alright, so I don’t look so hot right now but-”
“Honey you look like a homeless person.”
“One who definitely doesn’t own a razor.”
“Alright jeez, what is it pick-on-Frank day?” As much as he tried to sound annoyed he couldn’t. Maria and Lisa’s joking jests and sweet smiles made all the stress melt away from him. He knew they were there because they worried, because they cared.
Because they were family. And having family was something he could never get angry about.
“Dad!” Frank Jr. rammed into his father's side in an attack hug that nearly sent the older man right to the ground.
“Hey bud.” Frank smiled, ruffling his son’s hair and ignoring the now throbbing pain in his ribcage.
That was until his darling dog max, who weighed the same if not more than his kids decided to sprint right into his legs and nearly send him down as well.
“Alright kids.” Maria grabbed the dog by the collar. “-And Max. How about we give your father ten minutes to go ahem, freshen up and then take him out for the day?”
The kids cheered in confirmation.
“Hey now,” Frank interjected. “I don’t know if I can guys. Don’t know if I’ll get called in or not.” Or If Spider-Woman will need my help or if Jitterbug returns and she’ll-
“Oh come on dad!” Lisa frowned and Frank was reminded of Spider-woman’s words.
She’d want you to take a break you know.
Frank sighed, dragging his hand down his face before looking at his family. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll be right out.” His family cheered and he left to go clean himself up. As he changed his clothes and fixed his hair, he couldn’t help but think how lucky he was. To have a family to worry about him and love him even when he was a hot mess.
Yeah. He was a lucky guy.