Chapter 16
He sat in the bed- waiting. That was what he hated most, aside from the pain in his face- it was the waiting that killed him. He knew his men would come for him, it was the contingency that guaranteed that they wouldn’t get paid unless they extracted him from custody.
Money guaranteed him his freedom- and his freedom wasn’t something happiness could buy, only money could save him now. And it was something only someone who grew up with nothing could know. And now that’s all he was left with- stashed away money. No more pretty face or suave comments would work- he was destroyed. And Frank was gonna pay for that.
He heard a commotion out in the hall and knew it was his men, finally the door opened and a man walked in dragging another in behind him.
“Hello, sir.”
“What the fuck took so long? I been in here for months!”
He started pulling at the IVs connected to him and his man started to help- “I’m sorry, sir. We had to wait until police presence died down. And today there was only three guards assigned to you- easy to infiltrate, execute and extract.”
Finally he stood up and his legs felt like jelly- he hadn’t walked in a really long time, but it was time to go.
“Do you want to take off the…..” The man gestured to the bandages on his face- they weren’t the most inconspicuous.
“Just yank em and give me that hoodie.” His man followed his instructions- and he had to hold back the scream as his skin pulled and the bandages left his scarred skin.
He hadn’t seen himself yet- they hadn’t taken the bandages or given him a mirror, so he turned to look at his reflection in the window- and didn’t recognize himself.
He was sure, Billy was gonna kill Frank Castle if it was the last thing he did.
It was closing in on one thirty as Frank walked down the dark street- he had left them and he wasn’t sure if he was going back, if he could go back. The look on Sophie’s face when he told her he was going would be burned into his memory the rest of his life. The whole night would never be forgotten, it had gone in a completely different direction than he expected.
Before the girls got home he made dinner as per usual, then they finally came back with bags of stuff he was sure he’d get the down low on later. He was dreading having to tell them, Frank wasn’t sure how to bring it up- he kept putting it off. Thinking maybe Sophie would cry and Karen would yell, he thought maybe letting them come to the conclusion that he was leaving would be best. Frank wasn’t planning on leaving forever- he would be back that Friday.
So he decided to bite the bullet and he walked over to his duffel- then it went silent. No tears like he expected- no yelling like he was sure would happen. Just silence.
No goodbye from Sophie, just a slam of the door- and uncomfortable silence. Then she brought out the alcohol and he thought, even better an uncomfortable conversation that had yet to happen mixed with alcohol- smart.
It was all a blur after that, Frank couldn’t tell you the exact words that she said- just that they meant the world to him. Finally someone who could understand that no matter how much they tried they would never truly understand- and it relieved him. That that person could be Karen- she could be the one who understood his inability to be understood, and was okay with it.
Then the kiss. Oh the kiss that would be branded in his mind for the rest of his life- he could tell you the basics of his first kiss with Maria, that kiss started the path to a family with her that he loved. But his family with her was what he remembered most about them- not any particular kiss. With Karen though- he would always remember this kiss, he would because he didn’t realize how long they had been dancing around each other. That kiss was amazingly beautiful, it was painfully exquisite- and it scared him.
He was afraid of what it meant- for him. For Karen. For Sophie. What did it all mean? And what was he doing sneaking out of the house to run away like a scared little kid, for once Frank didn’t know what to do.
His whole life he knew where he stood, with his parents- with the military, with Maria and the kids. Then when they were murdered he knew what he had to do, it was a path he knew he had to follow- he’ll admit sometimes he was a bit unsure of how to do things. But he always knew they had to be done.
This. This was different. He was on unsteady ground- knowing he had to continue his mission, knowing that was the only way he felt he could honor his family. But with her- with them, he was unsure. Unknowingly those girls had already pulled him into their lives- and he hadn’t resisted, he went willingly. But when he had a second to think about it, he wasn’t sure if he could continue with them. Was it dishonoring his family? Could he be both of the people with them? The Punisher-who needed to kill, and Frank Castle- family man? Could he be both? Was he allowed to be?
He couldn’t do this- Frank needed to think. He needed silence- needed to be alone. Needed to think.
Needed to be somewhere else.
Needed to be not in New York.
Not near Karen.
Not near anyone.
Alone.
Without his dog. He couldn’t take him even if he wanted to. Duck loved his new home, he was happy with the girls- Duck loved them. And a small part of him was happy he left Duck behind- knowing his protective dog wouldn’t let anything happen to his girls made him feel the slightest bit better.
Frank couldn’t be here. Couldn’t be in this city that left him constantly filled with memories and dreams.
So he adjusted his bag on his shoulder and headed straight for grand central- hoping there would be a greyhound that would take off near two in the morning.
“Hello sir, how can I help you?”
“I need a greyhound ticket.”
“Where too?”
“Anywhere, the next one available.” She looked up at him then, curiosity clear in her eyes.
“Well there’s one to Georgia leaving right now, so I don’t think you’ll make that one… But there is a bus in fifteen minutes heading up to Maine. Will that be acceptable, sir?”
“Yeah, yeah it’s fine.”
The woman started typing info into her computer, asking for identification- for which he provided a fake. Not wanting anyone to know where he was going, and knew this would be the best way to keep his location a secret for as long as possible.
“So just a spur of the moment vacation?” She was fishing, and he wasn’t the small talk kinda person so he just nodded- she was obviously disappointed not getting anymore out of him. He couldn’t blame her, Frank couldn’t imagine how dreadfully boring working the night owl shift could be- she probably asked anyone who came by the same question, just to break the silence.
And normally he’d play along if only to make up a crazy far out story she’d never forget, but right now he wasn’t in the mood.
“Here you go, two thirty bus to Maine- you might want to head over now. I doubt it’ll be crowded, but sometimes the drivers leave a few minutes early if they don’t think anyone else is coming.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Karen’s face flashed in front of his eyes and he couldn’t stop the ache in his chest from stabbing him right in the heart.
He slept most of the trip with no particular place in mind to stop, just thinking he’ll ride it till the end of the line. The bus was stopped in a small town for a lunch break- when he looked out at the water, and he knew. He knew this was the place to think- a small quiet town. A place he wouldn’t stay long enough for anyone to get to know him- just a place he could just be.
He bought a few nights at the local b&b near the water, Frank was rarely there enough for the owners to pester him- most of the time he sat by the lake. Sat there in the morning, watched the sunrise- then again at dusk, watching the sunset. When he was in town he went to the local bar, got a few drinks- and thought some more. The only time he spoke when he was in the little town was to say, ‘please’ and ‘thank you’. The only other time he spoke was to himself, or the only exception was local shop owner- “How much for the fishing rod?”
“That rod? That’s a beauty-” The man was obviously trying to fool him into paying extra for something you could normally buy for pretty cheap, but Frank wasn’t about to get into it over something so stupid.
“I’d say it should be two fifty, but since you look like you know what your talking about I’ll give it to ya for two hundred.”
He did know what he was talking about, his grandfather had been the one to show him how to fish, and he wasn’t an expert but he knew this was not worth two hundred dollars.
“No. One hundred.”
“Fine you drive a hard bargain. One fifty.”
“One hundred.”
“Alright, alright- one twenty five?”
He was silent, he just looked the slimy looking man. One look from Frank Castle was enough.
“Fine, I’ll take one hundred.”
That was pretty much all he said to anyone the whole trip, the only thing he did other than relearn how to fish and watch sunsets was think.
About who he was. Who he wanted to be. And he realized those two parts of himself weren’t all that different. Frank was okay with who he was, and he didn’t want to be anyone else other than himself. And Karen seemed to understand that, after he came back to her place injured and bleeding out- she never asked him to stop being the punisher. All she asked was for him to be more careful with not getting his faces bashed in. And he was okay with that- right after she asked he changed his routines trying to have less hand to hand combat- but when that was needed, he tried his best to protect his face. Not for vanity, but because she asked something so reasonable- for her, for Sophie. That’s what confused him, every morning he woke up he was completely fine with doing absolutely anything to keep Karen and Sophie safe and happy, and he didn’t feel guilty about that. But when he thought about long term, when he pictured them happy- with him. Sophie growing up, Karen growing old right beside him- that’s when he felt the guilt. Felt it all the way through his body- a deep heavy guilt that weighed him down.
So he would try to picture a life for them without him, because he didn’t deserve it- and he would get angry. Angry at the next man who saw how smart and beautiful his Karen was, angry at the next man Sophie might grow attached too. Sad to think of a life without them in it. And what life would he have? If they weren’t there, what would he do? Just keep killing people every night, then go home- no go back to his apartment at four in the morning and sleep until it was time to start again. Become nocturnal? Just waiting till he got caught or killed? Is that what he deserved? Because when he pictured that, it wasn’t a life- it was a life sentence. He would never be happy.
But did he deserve to be happy? Is that what he deserved? After everything that’s happened, after everything he’s been through- did Frank Castle deserve a life?
On the bus back he still didn’t have his answer- but he was tired of the repetitiveness of the past few days. He was tired. Sure, Frank had slept- but it wasn’t a sleep he was used to. He had gotten used to Karen’s bed. Another thing he had to admit to himself- it wasn’t just the bed he got used too. It was Karen, her warm body next to him. She flopped around and stole most of the sheets, but it was the best sleep he had in a long time. Then on fridays, Sophie would join them- sleep in their bed. The little girl would curl around Franks arm, and the first time it happened he hadn’t fallen asleep for hours- too afraid to move and wake her.
The plastic bag that was attached to his bag before he left now sat in the top of his bag- careful not to crinkle. At first when Frank had finally decided to open it, he was confused- it was a dark blue vest with dark yellow snap buttons that were almost fading. It looked like it was an old vest for the university of Michigan, with the colors- then a white dress shirt that hardly fit. And finally a homemade plastic name tag that said, ‘Beast’
And it couldn’t be more accurate, that’s what he was- a wild beast that would bite the hands that tried to feed it. Now he knew why he girls had come in that night laughing and giggling like hyenas- they went Halloween shopping. All before they could ask him to be the brooding character from Beauty and the Beast. And he had ruined it, as per usual-
So he dropped off his duffel, costume and all- in the dark and depressing place he still paid rent for- despite not being there for weeks. It was late Wednesday night- early Thursday, closing in on two in the morning, when he decided he needed to let out some energy- so he grabbed his gun and vest and headed out. Looking for trouble.
And trouble he found, these men were about to rob an armored car- the type that was named by incompetent ‘paid security’. They were just about to shoot the driver when Frank swooped in.
He shot the man with the sniper rifle straight through the head- red bloody brain splattered on the cream wall beside him. The next man was still unaware they were under attack, so he snuck up from behind and put him in a choke hold- held him while his face turned purple and his feet grew slack, until finally he snapped his neck. The third man heard the commotion and knew he was being hunted- this man was a shorter man, but stocky and built. A bald man with a beard that looked unkempt- another face he would never forget, another to add to the list of people he had killed. Another face that would haunt him when he died. Better men might say it was another face that didn’t need to be there, that didn’t need to be killed. But Frank knew the truth- this man deserved to die, Frank could see it in his eyes- a look that no doubt was in his own. The look of a killer. Because that’s what he was- a killer. And he wasn’t afraid to admit that- some people needed killing.
With that thought the man rushed him, a rookie mistake- putting Frank on the defensive. An easy way to see your opponents weakness was to see how they would respond if initiating the attack- if this man were as experienced as himself it wouldn’t matter who started the attacks. But this man wasn’t as good- and Frank took advantage of that. The knife he carried in his belt coming out and being lodged in his opponents neck. It was surprisingly easy to kill a person this way- you’d think it would be harder to pierce a person's skin, but it wasn’t. The neck was an easy place that bled fast and when injured in any way- almost impossible to survive.
The man dropped to his knees and Frank turned to the fourth man, who immediately started shooting at Frank. With a nine millimeter glock- the man was obviously panicking after watching his three coworkers die in front of him, so his shooting wasn’t as accurate. The man missed Frank twice before finally connecting with his vest- and he felt the shock in his chest you feel when shot with a vest on. Like an angry punch- that he had learned to ignore and keep going, Frank rushed him and tackled him to the ground. His fists flew at the man underneath him, he could feel his knuckles split, and the man's nose break beneath the force- and he kept going.
Until he stopped and listened to the mans wheezing, “Who do you work for?” Frank was panting the pain in his ribs from his earlier injury coming back- but he pushed through.
“I don’t know man.”
Punch.
“C’mon man, I don’t.”
Punch.
“I can’t-“
Punch. Punch.
“I-”
Punch. Punch. Punch. Punch.
“Alright- alright…” The words came out gurgled and hard to understand. Blood trickled down the corners of his mouth and every other part of his face.
“Let me hear it.”
“Two other crews besides ours were supposed to go looking for armored trucks to rob and steal, then take to a location tomorrow night.”
Punch. “What location?”
“Hey I’m talkin’! I’m talkin’! In jersey. A small warehouse in Trenton. Off Central.”
Frank stored that information away for later, knowing if this was the first part of the plan it could get a lot worse.
“When?”
“Tomorrow. Three in the morning. That’s all I know, I swear!” He man had a tattoo he could barely make out under all the blood, and Frank nodded.
“Fair enough.” Then he shot him- straight in the head. Then blood went everywhere, all around the head, up onto himself- everywhere.
Then Frank left- went back to his place. Slept. Dreamt. Of Friday’s, and movies- and smiles, and blonde hair.
And he woke up knowing he wasn’t going to go to movie night with his girls- because he might be dead and maybe a little because he was afraid to face them.
So he did the next best thing. A text.
He’d never really sent a text- always preferring to call someone or say it face to face. But he couldn’t call her. Not now. And not if he wanted to go to that warehouse tonight, because if she asked him to come back- to come home- he would. And he couldn’t do that, not now- not yet.
So he sent it.
Can’t make it tomorrow. I got work in Jersey. Tell her i’m sorry.
Frank turned off his phone, not wanting to know if she responded- hoping she would, knowing she probably wouldn’t. But if he died tonight he wanted to die thinking just maybe she sent a text back asking him to come home. He hoped she could tell that sorry wasn’t just for Soph, but for her as well. It had been almost a week since he last saw them- a week of nothing. A week that meant nothing. Accomplished nothing. Because as much as he wanted to say that the trip to the lake helped him think- it didn’t. It just left him alone- with his thoughts. A scary place to be. Alone- with one's thoughts.
So he waited until three- until all the men were there. Then he went in. Guns blazing- death hung around him like a cheap perfume, touching every person he came in contact with him. Leaving the stench of death that followed him through the whole warehouse- a scent that he hated but embraced. Death was his friend- one he never wanted to face, but worked with side by side.
The whole thing was a blur, a bloody messy blur. And the worst part was that after his whole calm and peaceful trip, he couldn’t accomplish a since thing- single thought that was of any importance. But here, with death fighting beside him- it was clear. He finally had an answer- not the answer. But an answer he could work with.
Frank left the building with his perfumed friend beside him, looking at the date- knowing he had a place to be.
The man watched the cameras, watching Frank Castle kill all the men he sent to lure him out. And despite all the blood and gore it was beautiful. It was beautiful because he had finally found him. And he wasn’t going to let him go, not this time-his gruesome scars lifted in an off putting smile when he lifted his hoodie to follow the man- and wait for the perfect moment to slit his throat.