Surfacing

"Something in my soul was rising, rising ceaselessly, painfully, and refused to be still."

Fyodor Dostoyevsky

The next morning Karen heard a soft knock on her front door and she felt her heart skip a beat. She turned off her sink faucet, abandoning the half clean coffee mug and made her way to the door.

It was him, it had to be. If it was him, everything would be ok now. Her mind raced with desperate hopefulness, as if she could will him to be on the other side of the door. She wiped her hands on her skirt nervously and peered out the peep hole. Her lips twitched up in a small smile.

Foggy Nelson stared back.

She unlocked the door and any disappointment at the identity of the person outside vanished when Foggy gave her a sympathetic smile. She saw him glance at her cuts. In one hand he held up a coffee carrier and in the other, a bag.

“I come bearing gifts.”

Karen grinned and beckoned him in.

“Hi Foggy.”

He set the coffee and donuts down, before turning to her, “Don’t ‘Hi Foggy me’, c’mere.” Foggy embraced her and squeezed tight. Karen hugged back.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” she mumbled against his shoulder.

Foggy patted her on the back and as the embrace ended, headed into the kitchen with his gifts.

“I know. That’s why I came,” he called over his shoulder.

They sat at her kitchen table debating the best donut flavors, talking about Foggy’s work, about his move in with Marci. Foggy didn’t bring up the previous day’s events until after they had finished their coffee and refused to take another bite.

“Have you heard from him Karen?”

There was sympathy in Foggy’s eyes and Karen knew there was only kindness and concern.

Karen shook her head, “No.” She picked at the lid on her cup and waited for his response.

“I’m sorry.”

She glanced up sharply. It wasn’t the response she had expected.

“Sorry for what?”

 “I know how hard it is to not hear from someone you care about. Not knowing whether they’re dead or alive,” Foggy shrugged, “I know how much it sucks.”

Karen reached a hand out to Foggy’s and clasped his fiercely.

“Thank you.” Her voice was full of emotion and broke from it.  Foggy squeezed back, “He’ll be fine Karen. He always is.”

She nodded and gave a small smile. But this time it’s different.

He knew he needed a routine, something to commit to. His days blended together in beautiful mundanity. Though he couldn’t really call it mundane. This was not his normal.

 He worked and then he was either at group, with Curtis, visiting David or babysitting the kids so David and Sarah could go on a date. David’s eyes crinkled with a smile when he told Frank that Sarah hadn’t been joking when she said You’ve got a year’s worth of dates to make up to me.

Frank was more than happy to do it and David and Sarah could leave the house knowing the children were in the safest of hands. But when the door shut after them, Frank felt the ever-present flicker of fear. His hands still felt wet with blood and the what ifs played on repeat in his frayed brain. What if someone comes for them? What if I can’t protect them? What if-

His thoughts always settled when Leo took his hand after noticing him standing still at the door. She gently tugged him to the game of Operation she and Zach had started playing before her parents had left.

“Ready Pete?” Her smile was sweet, and his heart hurt from it.

“Yeah sweetheart I’m ready.”

David and Sarah always returned home, and Frank returned to his tiny apartment satisfied.

The money David had left him with was generous, especially considering he wasn’t living lavishly. He’d moved on from eating tuna from the package, but simplicity had always been his style. He started taking books out of the library after he’d finished Curtis’s collection. He now only carried a pistol and had one shotgun locked up at home. He hardly slept for days after removing his arsenal.

He still had nightmares, still visited his family’s grave every week. He still noticed things he shouldn’t, heard things he would have once refused to ignore. In those moments, he felt his control start to slip, but rather than let go of his life line he held tight-either calling David or Curtis. Either way the information was passed on to the right people.

His hands stayed clean.

It was like he was a stranger looking in on his life. Everything was so foreign, but even so…even so he could feel himself healing. And since he had started being honest with himself, he recognized the fear more easily. It accompanied every beat of his heart, but he breathed and refused to be carried under the waves.

 It was early December when he was forced to address that which he’d been hiding from. He and David were sitting on the couch, leaning against the cushions watching Sarah and the kids decorate cookies.

Frank was mid sip of his beer when David asked, “So. You talk to Karen yet?”

Frank was silent for a moment, taking in the question as he studied the label of the craft beer David was so fond of.

“Not yet.”

David eyebrows raised, his expression incredulous, “Not yet!? Frank!”

He threw up the hand that wasn’t holding his own bottle, “Does she even know you’re alive?”

He was asking the questions Frank had been berating himself with since the night after the hotel.  He didn’t answer then, and he wouldn’t now. Not yet.

David scrubbed a hand through his beard and sighed, his voice softer.

“Don’t you think she has a right to know? I mean you two almost get blown up and that’s all she’s left with? That’s not how you treat family Frank.”

Frank narrowed his eyes in anger, his voice rough, “You know that’s rich coming from you David! Christ.”

The chatter in the kitchen quieted and Sarah caught Frank’s eye. There was a warning in her gaze before she got the kids back on track. Frank quieted and swallowed hard. David wasn’t fazed.

“Doesn’t mean I’m wrong though.” He leaned back into the couch and set down his beer, “C’mon man, what’s stopping you?”

Frank sighed and rested his hands on his knees, “I’m not ready yet.”

David scoffed, “Will you ever be?” He studied Frank noting the twitch of his finger and the way he avoided his gaze.

He smiled, “Ah.”

Frank glared at him, “What? ‘Ah’ what?”

“You’re scared.”

Frank rolled his eyes and shook his head, “I’m not scared. I’m not.”

“Sure, buddy.” David didn’t hide his disbelief and looked back at his family and smiled at the impossible. Frank straightened, “Man why do you even care? You didn’t seem too pleased about her back in your hideout.”

“Firstly-our hideout. And secondly, that was then, this is now.” David leaned forward, “I care because I care about you and she was the only thing you gave a damn about other than your revenge.” He leaned back, “And that seems important.”

Franks sniffed, shaking his head, “That’s not tru-,”

“So now you’re a liar? Frank, you completely lost control after Lewis threatened her. Whatever feeling that fear stemmed from, you don’t run away from that, you hold on tight to them.”

Frank stared at him.

David sighed after a moment before patting Frank on the knee as he made his way to the kitchen. Frank watched him kiss Sarah on the cheek and put an arm around Zach. Frank knew. He knew the other man was right. Sighing, he checked his watch, it was 2:00 on a Sunday. He wasn’t sure if Karen would be home. Wasn’t sure because Pete Castiglione didn’t stalk the people he cared about, he didn’t sit on the rooftop across the street and keep watch anymore. He read Karen Page’s articles and left it at that.

If he had, he might have seen his flowers wither to death in her windowsill.

But Pete Castiglione also didn’t lie to himself. He was truthful about who he was. To himself and others. And try as he might to deny it, Karen was number one on his list of others.

Frank sighed and returned his bottle to the kitchen.

“Are you going to decorate cookies with us Pete?” Zach asked.

Frank smiled, “Not today. Gotta go see a friend.”

Zach nodded, agreeing with his priorities. Frank thanked Sarah for her hospitality and gave Leo a side hug. David grinned, “Best of luck brother.”

“Shut it.”

He drove around Karen’s block three times, each time ignoring the empty parking spaces. Frank gripped the steering wheel hard and grit his teeth. On the drive over, he hadn’t thought of what he would say. He only thought of her and he realized how much time he was wasting.

 Wasted.

He was living in the after now, just as she’d hoped. He still hadn’t gotten used to the taste of freedom. To join the world of the living and he left her behind in the land of the dead.

Frank took the stairs in double time. The climb barely winded him, but he steadied his breath before he knocked on her door.

He waited, straining to hear her steps approaching on the other side of the door. His finger twitched at his side, fearful that he had run out of second and third chances, but then he heard the chain being undone and he knew he had at least one more.

And then there she was. A hand flew up to cover the sound of her sob as she took the sight of him in. His face held no shadow of bruises and his eyes were clear. His gait was steady as he took a step towards her.

“Karen…”

She saw pain and regret drench his expression and she reached out to him. He immediately gathered her in his arms, holding her close.

Her breath was warm, against his cheek and he felt her laugh.

“What the hell took you so long you bastard?”

They stood in the hallway in each other’s arms with no care to the passing time. They swayed and pressed close. They stayed because they could.

There were no bullets, no cops waiting, no blood between them.

Karen pulled back first and smiled, her fingers tracing the scar just above his ear. She remembered when it bled.

He must have seen something pass through her eyes, because he gently took her wrist and kissed her pulse point before asking, “You going to invite me in Ma’am?”

She laughed and lead him into her apartment, “Back to ‘Ma’am’ are we?”

Frank flashed a sheepish grin, “Wasn’t sure I’d be welcomed back after…” he stood in her entry way and glanced around, uncertain, “after I never…”

He swallowed and glanced back at Karen.

“I’m sorry Karen.”

Karen shook her head, “Frank, you don’t have to apol-,”

Frank laughed and took a step toward her, “Yeah, yeah I do. After Rawlins…after Billy…I should have reached out. I thought I was going to die and when I didn’t…well I guess I wasn’t sure how to go about living.”

Karen took a step forward, “I always had hope, but the more time that passed…” She inhaled sharply and closed her eyes, shaking away the memory, “the more I wondered. After news broke about Russo being alive, I contacted Madani.”

“She actually talk to you?”

“We’re on good terms. I pass on anything that comes my way that might help her, and she gives me a bull shit free soundbite when the story runs. It works well.”

Karen paused and shuddered, “I saw the tape.”

Frank froze and watched her approach, gaze flickering over his face, remembering the horror and trying not to imagine the pain.

“God Frank.” She shook her head and snarled, “I’m glad he’s fucking dead.”

He nodded, “You didn’t try to find me?”

“I didn’t try to find you because this had to be your choice. As much as I wanted to, I…” She didn’t know what else to say. Didn’t know how to phrase it.

Frank watched her struggle to find the words. He brushed a thumb under her chin and made her look up at him.

“Thank you.”

It was so simple. It was all that needed to be said.

“You’re welcome.”

Any tension left between them, broke.

“You want to sit and catch me up on ‘the new Frank Castle?” Karen asked.

Frank chuckled and followed her into the living room, joining her on the couch. She tucked her feet under her and propped her head against her knuckles.

“It’s actually Pete now.”

“Pete…”

He scrunched his brow together, “Yeah, what’s wrong with Pete?”

Karen laughed, “I don’t know. Nothing I guess, it’s just not ‘Frank’. Do I have to call you Pete now when we’re alone?” She teased.

Frank rolled her eyes and Karen settled in for the story. The story beneath the story.

He told her everything. Told her what he couldn’t months ago. Told her about his guys and the Lieberman’s. About how he was thinking of adopting a dog. Anything and everything and she laughed and smiled like his words were the key to her happiness. They sat for hours, ordered take out, and watched shitty TV before he took his leave.

Even then, it took another half hour to actually say goodbye. She leaned against the door and gave him a true, but tired smile. He tucked a loose strand of blond hair behind her ear and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek.

“I’ll call you.”

“You’d better, Pete.”

Frank laughed and watched her slowly close the door.

Her eyes held the promise of things yet to come. There was hope and recognition of the man standing before her.

It was everything he thought he’d never get back. It felt like coming home.