Listen, kitty. I don't interact with annoying people or people at all so how am I suppos' to properly rank. I know like...five people I interact with regularly.
It’s not that I haven’t been called annoying before, hell that’s not even what really bothered me.
It’s that it came from you. I’ve always just kind of seen it as a joke, but to have you tell everyone proudly that I’m the most annoying person you know, that hurt.
Frank, you and like maybe one other person are the only true friends I have. I’m not trying to manipulate you into feeling bad, or pity for me, but that’s the truth. And I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have gave you the cold shoulder.
Summary: Karens been shot on a trip to Pittsburgh. Frank rushes down to the pitt to save her.
Word Count: 2,105
Warnings: some graphic description
Notes: I aint a fucking doctor. I low key got tired in editing so its not my best...i might br dyslexic or just stupid so ignore the typos.
Karen rolls in on the bed while Frank follows behind. The paramedic yells information at Dr. Robby "Jane doe. Bullet in the abdomen, left iliac region. Good but declining breathing." The woman continues, giving as much information as received.
Robby takes the bed from the paramedics "Mel, emma hop on this!"
Emma freezes "Me?"
"Ya need the training, come on!" Emma and Mel flood over to the active cot, following the attendings directions.
Mel approaches the empty space next to 'Pete' "What's her name." He bites the inside of his cheek prior to releasing releasing. "Karen...Page." Frank takes in the limp journalist. His feet align with the cushioned platform.
"Sir you have to step back. You can watch but we cant have you next to the table." Perlah commands.
"I'm not fucking leaving her. I aint trusting some snobby doctors!" He stays at Karens head.
"Frank... they've got me." She tries to calm frank but cant continue past the pain. She yells out, causing frank to lean in "it's okay...its okay. These snobby doctors gonna take good care of ya."
Karen attempts to laugh before Mel stops her once more "no laughing, okay?" Karen nods. She goes to touch her wound, being met with fingers full of carmine juices through the cloth. Robby yanks her wrist before her fingers go deeper. While Frank claws at her locks.
"Don't touch her like that!" Frank contradicts himself.
"Sir. You need to give us room." Robby demands, yet Frank still refuses to leave his partner.
"No. I aint fucking leaving!" His hand toughens once more, nails full of dirt, blood, and gunpowder dig into his skin, taking her hair down with. He holds enough tension in and he'll pierce himself.
Frank couldn't stand another fucking death. More blood on his hands. That musty, almost stew smell of a passing. Enervated organs thrusted down his throat, stopping him from protest. while a voice whispers 'you did it again'
A blond, lanky man in scrubs perks up as they jog past. "Doctor robby, can I join in?" Ogilvie begs while he puts his gloves on.
Robby huffs, "Dont do anything with my permission."
He beams and hurries over.
Frank notes the excited boy "Does she need this many people?" He peeks the closest doctor, another blond.
"This is how we help her." She confirms.
The man sighs "Fine." He presses his forehead to hers as they roll on into the radiant, windowed room.
He was trying to escape them finally. For a week. But they found him. Found Karen. He didn't want people recognizing either of them. They were simply trying to get chips from the vending machine. It was late and neither of them could sleep in that nasty motel. Frank hoped to get them something nicer but the nearest (affordable) hotels were booked out until tomorrow
Frank was actively arguing with Karen on how or even if he should bang on the metal to retrieve the stuck chips when a man yelled his full name. He tackled Karen, his automatic decision over his own life or the chips. They were able to crawl behind a car to stay hidden from the flying hardware. They both grabbed their guns and started shooting (even though frank told her not to.) The fugitives ended up dead and stripped of their equipment but Karen was shot.
Franks still not entirely sure why they went after him or how they found him...but it was enoug to make him upset, despite the lecture that will come later.
Karen smiles "You're worrying so much."
His other hand finds its way to her neck, driving her head to look at him.
"I cant have you die, Kare!" He whispers. He looks at the finger length hole in her abdomen as the doctors do their best to help it. The circle leading to nearby organs gush against the doctors help.
Robby gestures to Emma. The girl touches Frank's shoulder "She needs room."
He snaps her arm away, releasing Karen's neck "She needs me!" Phlem shoots out with an attack.
Robby crosses the table, grabbing his arm "We can't do our job if you're in here and acting like this."
Frank focuses on the slowly dying woman, asking her in their touches if he should go. She returns the contact by running her thumb over his hand and nodding.
"Don't fucking kill her." Frank threatens as he pushes the doctors off. He treads out, biting his lip. He stops the second the doors closes, watching every movement like he could do better.
Every time he can't see what they're doing he tightens. Face scrunches and boots begin to hurt his toes. Then they move, the bullet is out. His feet might break out of his leather. He fiddles with the golden ring around his neck.
'I can't lose another one. Not another one.' He begged himself like he could help her. He knew he couldn't do anything anymore. He covered the wound, made sure her blood stayed inside her body and drove her here. Thats it. Thats all he could do.
Emma walks out. She helped them with what they could do. She wasn't really able to help with anything since shes still a student.
Frank stops her "I'm sorry for touching you earlier, ma'am." He normally doesn't say sorry but holy shit did he feel bad. And seeing karen in this situation made him want to help everyone.
Emma is a little taken aback by the title but she responds instantly "It's really fine sir..." She holds her elbow with her other hand. "May I ask what happened? I didn't really hear before and this is only my second week... And-" He stops her before she can continue her rambling.
"Someone was hitting on her and being a fucking creep so I told him to back off and he pulled out a gun." A complete lie, other than the fact that there was a gun. He's not the best with lies.
"Is she your wife?" Emma eyes the ring that hangs on his chain.
His cheeks brighten "Oh no. No. Just uh... friends." He focuses on the flaccid figure in the other room.
"Really?" She asks before she can stop herself.
He finally looks back at Emma, but only her shoes, not looking her in the eyes. "Kind of. Yeah."
Emma smiles "Do you wanna wait somewhere else. Its probably gross looking at it." She looks back at the scene, holding back a gag.
"I've seen worse."
Emma's face goes wide, "What?"
He ignores Emma's ask "Ya got pancakes here?" Frank's eyebrows shift into each other while he uses his eyes to search for the food.
Emma stutters "O-o-oh yeah! Right this way." 'God, hes tall!' she as she guides him.
He takes a deep breath as he steps away from the window. He'd be lying if he said it didn't feel like he was abandoning her.
Emma leads him to the cafeteria where he finds waffles. Not pancakes. He pouts but takes a coffee. The girl guides him to a room where he can wait for Karen.
"Thanks." He mutters.
"Of course. I'll make sure Dr. Robby finds you immediately."
"Thanks." He repeats and she walks out.
His head fills with every possible and slightly impossible situations. What if that med student doesn't listen? What if that grumpy ass man slips? What if-
He takes a deep breath. He pulls off his necklace and just stares at it. His memories filled with Karen...then maria. And suddenly their faces mix, them separate. Their faces bring the same feeling: content, then dread.
He continues like that for what feels like seconds. Then Doctor robby steps in.
His head perks up. Robby eyes the necklace.
"Is she going to be okay. I swear to god if shes dead I'm-" robby cuts frank off "Shes going to be fine. All stitched up but shes a little loopy. Would you like-" frank cuts him off in return "Can I see her?"
Robby nods and frank slips the necklace over his head and tucks it into his button up. He practically jogs towards her room even though she doesn't know where she is now.
Robby points at the room and frank busts in. Thankfully Karen is already awake.
He runs to her side and grabs her hand "Ya good? They take care of ya?" He scans her body, noticing her cleaned up skin.
Karen nods "they took good care of me, frank. Promise." She presses her hands to his hair, pulling him in. He rests his forehead to hers, breathing her in.
"Its alright." She praises.
"No its fucking not! I should've... fuck. I should've- i should've told em to fuck off. Hurt 'em before they hurt you."
"Its not- you couldn't have done anything, Frank! Oh my god!" She shouts, promptly stopping frank.
"I'm sorry...I just-" He wraps his arms around her, forcing her face into his collar bone and shoulder.
They stay for a while before he pulls way, "You rest. Okay?" He walks over to the chair next to her bed.
Shes finally able to discharge three days later. Mel is going through the care instructions before she says "Now you can take your wife home, sir."
He chuckles "ain't my wife."
Mel corrects herself, "sorry," she scans the two "girlfriend?"
His laughter builds "no."
Karen intervenes "I mean I kind of am."
"What?"
"You're protective of me, we're literally sharing a bed at the hotel right now!"
"I ain't made of cash! Listen, can we talk about this later?" His eyes switch in-between the ladies.
Mel coughs before handing the other blond a sheet of paper "Follow that and you should be good. Ill have perlah help you out with the rest."
Once mel leaves, Frank gives her the stink eye. "What the fuck!"
"We kind of are though. We just haven't been intimate."
"The second you say your my fucking 'girlfriend'" He emphasizes with air qoutes "you're fucking dead! I aint having you die, kare."
"Ive almost been killed over ten times because of myself. If I die its not going to be your fault."
He sighs "Yes it fucking is! I'm supposed to protect you!"
"We arent dating, so no you don't" she teases.
He huffs "I hate you." He moves from his seat and presses a kiss to her forehead. "There I'm ya fuckin' 'boyfriend.' that good?" He uses air qoutes once more
Karen's face goes red. She tucks her hair behind her ear "Yeah." Her smile is faint yet noticable by him. But he'll never mention it.
"I'ma go make sure they don't have us in the system, alright?" He steps out and his mind immediately yells at him 'You have a wife!' he lectures to himself before he realizes maria has been dead for 10 years.
He walks up to the charge nurse dana.
"We aint in ya system, right?"
"What?"
"Take Karen page out of your system." Frank stipulates.
"Sir we need that if ya come back or go to another hospital."
"I don't go to hospitals. Take us off, Ma'am."
"Okay but dont get angry next time ya go and they aint got your files."
"I won't." He assures.
He watches as the silver woman works at the computer. "There ya go."
"Frank castle aint in there too right?"
She hums a yes. "Thank ya, ma'am." He praises her.
Frank struts back towards the room where hes greeted by the tall, curly haired med student that worked on Karen in the door way.
Ogilvie is following perlah, watching how she interacts with the patient as hes not the best with people. He writes down notes, not even noticing Frank. However the gruff man peers over to see what he's writing. No names; good. Just nerdy shit. But also quite endearing. Its clear from his notes that he wants to be the best doctor ever even if hes not good at social cues.
Frank moves next to Karen, looming behind her like a guard dog.
Frank walks back to his van with his hand on Karen's back, clear every area with his eyes.
"Why'd you take me to a hospital... you hate hospitals."
"You were going to die." He doesn't make eye contact with her, just looks around.
"That's it?" She tilts her head towards the asfalt
"Thats it."
She nods and leans into him "So girlfriend..."
"I was just shutting you up. I don't date." He opens the van door for her.
"Sure, frank." Karen pulls on the assist grip, helping her hop into the car.
Everything from Karen is written by @swansallegory
Everything from Frank is written by me!
Pairing: Karen Page Frank Castle
Word count: 6,153
Warnings: Angst no comfort
Summary: Frank visits Karen, and she ends up spilling her emotions.
Other notes: Originally a roleplay between us but I thought it would be good as a proper fanfic. This has been stuck in my drafts for who knows how long. It is not edited at all so yep.
THIS WORK IS ONGOING. UPDATES COME OUT EVERY FRIDAY
Last update: 5/1/26
Frank enters her building. He doesn't normally do this, actually going into her work...but he's changed a lot over the years. His red-stained knuckles land against her office door.
Luckily for Karen — and Frank, honestly, she was the only one there at The Bulletin. Editors and reporters turned in for the night hours ago, but Karen diligently worked on another article. Something landmark — another controversial piece.
She flinched from the loud raps at her office door. Karen pushed back her rolling chair, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she headed to the door. She figured it was Ellison, probably back for something he left. His files sat sulking at the corner of her desk anyway. What she didn't expect, however, was Frank.
Karen's breath hitched. She hadn't seen him in so long. Too long. Her voice betrayed her — soft and reverent, like Frank was a fever dream.
"Frank," She murmured. "It's been a while."
He opens his mouth to speak but hesitates for a moment before letting out his usual grunt and finally letting out a couple words, hoping it would suffice "It has." He mumbles in return
"Do ya mind if I come in?" He tilts his head just slightly
"No—" Karen's voice trailed off, and she cleared her throat. "Please, come in."
Karen stepped aside, fidgeting with her fingers. She pushed another loose strand of her hair behind her ear. Karen's heels clicked mutely against the carpeted floors as she moved behind her desk to switch off her PC. No way she'd focus on work now. She rounded the dark oak desk to lean up against it, and crossed her arms, waiting for Frank to speak.
He shuts the door as he scans the room. He looks for everything; what's changed, what's stayed. Everything from her messy papers in the same place on her desk to the small hair ties scattered across the floor and furniture. He eyes for everything he's missed, anything that will tell him what shes been up to.
"What ya' writin'?" He gestures to the open laptop, case files, and papers. His pupils scatter, refusing to feed into her gaze.
Karen lit up, the same way she always did when someone asked about her writing. She ran a hand through her hair, recalling the main points of the article.
"It's a baiting article. I'm after a businessman that'd done some shady stuff — like extortion, and if my sources follow up — kidnapping. I'm going to try to get him to come after me, same thing I always do with these kinds of people. Uh, I was actually outlining the piece when you showed up, Frank."
She knew it was a dangerous piece. Deadly, even. She'd only gotten out of the hospital, what, a few weeks ago? And here she was again — same reckless, stubborn, justice-driven woman, seeking to make the city better in whatever way she could. It was similar to Frank in a way — the relentless pursuing of one thing: making sure the bad apples got a taste of their own medicine.
Karen tilted her head, swaying a little as she continued to look at Frank, eyes begging for answers to silly questions she knew the answers to. She knew where he'd been. He'd been busy with patrol, most likely. She took in his hair, the rough, but somehow delicate features of his face. Features she missed on chill nights, on warm ones too.
"How've you been, Frank?"
The edges of his lips form up just enough to notice, but there was much more amusement behind the smile, he wasn't good at hiding that.
His eyes continue to twitch as he thinks about the question. He searches through the possible answer. He chose the same category every time; bland and dishonest. "'m good.” He pauses before continuing
"Ya' aren't going to give up this article, ain't ya?" He already knew the answer. She never gave up on anything, none-the-less justice. He learned that a while ago. No matter what he did, no matter what anyone did...she was never going to stop working towards a better world whether it killed her or not. He sighs
"Just don't die on me, 'right?" He had no intention to mask it as a request, it was a demand. She supported him, the last thing he can do is support her and make sure she doesn't fucking die.
Karen smiled softly, flattered by Frank's concern. She knew he'd say that. He always does. Even if he tried to stop her a few times. She adjusted her blouse sleeve, careful as always. As if it'd crumble right in front of her, break off, or become irreplaceable. She treated everything that way.
As Frank answered the question, her head tilted, smile faltering into a neutral state. She took a measured step closer to Frank, not believing his reply one bit. She knew him well enough by now. His eyes spoke of emotions he always tried to bury down, and it pained her.
She decided on a whim she'd close the gap. Karen didn't say anything — just walked closer until she was only an arms-length away from Frank.
Karen wrapped her arms around the back of Frank's neck and embraced him, her eyes closing as if she was trying to absorb all those negative feelings. She missed him. She missed this. She wanted to absolve him of all the world's troubles, trauma that'd made him heavy with leftover grief and the inability to find solace.
"You're not okay." She whispered gently, "You don't have to lie around me, Frank. Tell me what's wrong."
He listened to her speak, he heard her words. But still refused to listen. She was right, everyone knew it. She was always so goddamn right. He couldn't trust, trust meant he cared, Care meant danger, and danger always meant grief.
Frank just lets his forehead lay against hers. He doesn't move anything else. His limbs were numb. He wanted nothing more to move but he couldn't. His face was the only thing that would dare budge: the faintest smile, the closing of his eyes, his murmurs of words in his head he couldn't catch.
He made sure his eyes were sealed. Because he could never control them, Karen and his own eyes were the only things he couldn't control...and it killed him and yet brought him back to life. Knowing she was unpredictable and she wouldn't use that to hurt him, it was nice, but he still refused to accept it.
He finally opened her eyes, looking for her gaze desperately. He couldn't speak, but his eyes could. He let her in in the only way he knew how. Without words, without anything but its scattering watch and his skin against hers.
Karen opened her eyes as well. She stared at Frank, the light from her lamp casting a small shadow over face. Still, her eyes glistened with something unreadable. Something stronger than what words could ever express. For Karen, there weren't any words — no sentences she could string together that would cohesively explain this. That could explain Frank Castle, the man she cared for so deeply it ached to.
"Jesus, Frank, you look like hell.."
She refused to break the embrace. If anything, her fingers twisted into the fabric of the back of Frank's jacket, desperate, clingy, and hoping. Hoping that this was truly real — that he really was here. How long has it been? She'd stopped counting after two months. Karen buried the side of her face into Frank's shoulder, breathing in his scent like he was a dying flower.
"You got anywhere to stay?" She asked quietly, finally breaking the hug to step back. Give him some space.
He chuckles at the comment. He did look like hell, because he was dragged through hell and back. He never hid that fact. He only hid it when he had to. When he needed to hide then strike. He was dragged through hell, and she was dragged through too but at least she recovered unlike him. Karen, from an angel and no matter how many times she was shot with flaming arrows, she survived. He survived, but not in the same way. And well, frankly he admired that about her. She was naturally strong, but still worked for more. Never gave up.
He didn't realize he was clinging to her, until she pulls away. His hand lingered until it couldn't. Until it hurt. He didn't mind the space, but he also didn't mind the touch. If anything he wanted it back.
His blinks slowly like a cat telling their owner they love them. But his watch still stutters. "Technically." He doesn't grunt this time...not a subtle or small response; something loud. Still wasn't real. That hurt him, he wanted nothing more than to be honest and real. But he could never bring himself to do it. It felt like he was being lit on fire every time he thought about saying the truth. Saying he cared for Karen.
"'Technically'?"
Karen repeated Frank's words with suspicion, her voice bordering on that investigative lilt she picked up over her years of working as a reporter. She glanced over at the clock hanging on the wall, quite surprised by the time. 1 am. How long had she been at the desk, anyway??
She picked up her coat and slipped it on with grace. The moonlight shining in from the blinds fanned over her face, illuminating her rosy cheeks and carmine lips. Karen fastened her hair into a quick bun, ensuring the curls she'd done this morning wouldn't get frizzy from adjusting her coat or from grabbing her purse. She put her attention back onto Frank, who stood silently near the darker corner of her office, as if the dark offered him a comfort only he knew. Karen wondered, how could she get him out? Help him see the light? She set aside her wishes and sighed, parting her lips as she gathered her thoughts.
"D'you remember that diner we ate in a few years ago?" She bit her bottom lip, that same nervous habit there after all these years. Karen averted eye contact, playing her nervousness off with pretending to fix her coat collar. "I was thinking we could..go there. If you want to."
His eyes scanned her movements, as if when he blinked she'd disappear, or die, or worse, turn into him. Less courage, less love in her heart. To him, that's the worst thing that could happen to anyone.
People pretend to know what he's been through, but they've only scratched their leg. No harm. No hurt. No grief. He knew he was lying to himself when he said Karen hasn't been through grief and death, she isn't lying about knowing what it's like and that hurt the most. It was better to pretend like she hasn't been through the same thing he has.
He leaned his head to the side again, as if it would help him listen. He forced his legs to step out of the darkness, to face her. He nodded just enough for her to notice. "Yeah," He paused, of course he paused. He forced himself to think. He played with his sleeve. He hummed out "I aint against that." He smiled, for the first time in months and the first real smile in at least a year. It wasn't flashy, wasn't big, it was him: soft and yet scared that it would shatter before both of them.
Karen's heart stuttered and fluttered in her chest at the sight of Frank's smile. That rare but genuine smile — it elated her. She hugged her arms, a sweet smile growing on her own face. The thing about them — they didn't need many words. Just each other's presence. Just having Frank near her, her hand able to reach out if she do wanted, gave her a sense of peace she hadn't felt in such a long time.
Moving carefully, Karen walked over to her office door and opened it, switching off the light. She waited outside the door for Frank. The scent of fresh ink and stale, lingering cologne covered the air of the cubicles and entangled into the hallway where Karen stood patiently. She looked delicate, a wisp away from cracking. Maybe it'd been the months upon months of isolation — no contact from anyone. But Frank was here. Only Frank had reached out.
She opened her purse and took her keys out, eyes flitting over the glock in there and her wallet as well. Karen then zipped her purse closed and adjusted the strap round her shoulder, gripping her keys like they'd ground her in reality.
Frank followed her, for once he didn't have to force his body to move, it just did. His hand catches the door, letting her rest her arm if she wanted to. He held it open for her until it was out of both of their reach. His body just took the lead, it was odd. Normally he had to force his body into everything. To pull the trigger, to move forward.
He smirked at her gun, he knew she could protect herself...but she had multiple ways to, she was smart. She made sure no one knew what she was capable of. Made him proud, if he was being honest.
He wanted to say something, anything. But he couldn't. He had too much to say, he couldn't pick one thing. What has she been up to? Did she miss him? Did she keep herself safe? And so many more. He instead just took her in. Her stance, her voice, her eyes... anything. It was all something to take in, to admire.
"The square diner's just a little drive away, c'mon Frank."
Karen untied her hair and slipped the hair tie into her coat pocket. Her black, sleek heels clicked against the floor as she walked toward the exit of The Bulletin, and her hair bounced, healthy and unbelievably elegant. Karen always had that air about her — put together, heavenly, but she wasn't any of those things. She was a mess. Always had been. She was a sinner, and she'd just made it look pretty. But she knew the carmine lipstick painted on her lips, and the angel white blouse she donned would never absolve her of her past. Of her guilt. Her pain.
Karen had the same blood on her hands that Frank did. They both knew that, but he'd always deny that any of it was ever her fault. She'd never accept that. She never accepted it from Matt, either.
As they made it outside to the parking lot, a cool breeze swept through, filled with whispers of hope. Of Frank. She looked over at Frank while unlocking her car door, followed every move of his as he sat down in the passenger seat, didn't dare tear her gaze away as he shut the door. Her hand moved on its own accord. The ignition turned — Karen's eyes did as well, to the road in front of her.
Didn't take long to hit the road. It didn't take long for thick, humid silence to cover them both. It felt as if an invisible Berlin wall had been placed between them.
He dipped his head in understanding. Frank followed her every move, he couldn't help it really. The way her hair fell over her shoulders, the way her heels clinked, everything was flawless. Nothing like his movement; always clunky and well, destructive. The stomps of his boots when he didn't mean it, the bullet of his gun dropping out of a victim. She could always mask her destructiveness, unlike him. Always flawless.
Her look didn't go unnoticed. He always noticed her, especially those eyes. Those crisps waves in her. He was delighted he didn't have to drive, and could make sure she was safe. Out of harm. Even if it meant she had to lift a finger. His arm rounded her seat. Nails dig into the leather. Always destructive.
"Ya' didn't have to drive, you know?"
He mumbles out. He was fine letting a woman take lead, happy even. But lord did he not want her thinking she had to do anything. Franks seen it, seen it in Maria. Because he wasn't there. He wasn't there to help. So even when he was, she refused. Refused to escape her comfort. It burned through his throat, to his heart, to his already demolished soul.
"I wanted to drive," Karen countered, her voice quiet but final. "It's a great night for cruising, honestly."
Now, Karen Page had told her first lie of the night. She didn't care about long drives, not in a million years, but it was better than admitting to Frank that she'd do anything she could to keep him with her. Karen switched on her indicator, and a bright green arrow blinked silently to the right. She leaned in closer to the wheel to check for cars passing. When there were none, she steered the car around into a U-turn, picking up the speed again to a hair or two over the limit printed on the sign she just drove past.
She kept steady on the right lane for a while, not a few cars scattered on the lanes, too. Just more people heading home from work. Karen had memorized the route to the diner. The quickest route. The discreet route. Every goddamn route she found — it made itself a home in her mind. Because it was all just wishful thinking to her. That Frank would come back. That he'd stay. Would he stay? Her eyes flit to his face for just a second, filled with unspoken words. Emotions that she didn't dare voice.
The words 'stay, don't leave me,' played on the tip of her tongue, souring the second she opened her mouth to speak. Karen frowned, her hair falling in front of her face conveniently to hide it.
He muttered something equivalent to an okay. He watched the buildings, the people, everything. To keep herself. As if there was someone on a rooftop with a sniper waiting for her.
He knew that wasn't going to happen, but with his life...her life? It still could happen. He couldn't have another die. Another person's blood on his hands. After Maria, he's been scared to death. Him seeing Karen was a treat, for both of them.
He tried not to get attached, he did. But she was like honey. Glassy, beautiful, and yet you would get stuck in yet. She didn't intend it, or maybe she did. Frank didn't mind either way. She was there, with him. In that grand silence.
His eyes flicked in-between the windows and her. The stars or the street. It was torture to look away, but he had to keep her safe. Out of the reaper's list.
Karen turned into the parking lot of the diner after another five minutes or so. She switched off the ignition, unbuckled her seatbelt, and opened her car door to get out. As her black heels hit the concrete road with a clack, she turned around to grab her purse from the backseat. Karen didn't even have to announce they were at Squares diner. Frank was already up and rounding the car to get to her, like a guard dog eager to protect.
She brushed her hair out of her face and checked her reflection in the mirror of the driver's seat window, then strutted away to the door of the diner. The bell dinged as they both entered. Karen immediately settled into the booth near the corner of the quaint, coffee-smelling place, as if she'd been here numerous times. Too many times. Too many nights. Just coffee, her notepad, and a deep yearning from the most insecure places of her heart she'd never felt for any other soul.
Karen tucked her purse into the corner of her booth seat and shrugged off her trench coat, deliberately leaving it on top of the purse. In case she'd have to bolt from danger, in case another hit and run happened. Karen Page, as courageous as she was, still had human fears. She just hid them well on the exterior, but those who knew her well, they saw it. The tears, the panicked breathing, the inability to speak. Shaky hands. Karen preferred to keep it that way.
"So," Karen stared at Frank, her eyes studying the healing cuts and bruises on his face. Marks of patrol. Of his vigilantism. "You ordering the same thing? Just a coffee? They have really good pancakes at this hour, surprisingly."
Frank is already checking out the area, making sure no one followed them here. People often underestimated his skill, his perception. He only checked on Karen every now and then, aka every chance he could. Making sure she hasn't left. Even subconsciously, he couldn't help but worry she's disappeared. Died by his hands.
He studied her, the way cleaned herself up she was so sure of herself, so confident. Frank could watch it all day. It was admirable.
As they start approaching the building he scouts out the area, hand hovering over her back, guiding her without either of them knowing. The second they enter, Frank begins scanning again. A woman sitting in a booth, two women on a date, a man alone in a corner writing. No one seemed like a threat, yet.
He eyed the placement of her belongings, taking note for the future. He could never let himself rest, never. It was always a battle. He's trained himself the same way he trained his dogs except treats were replaced with insults. Letting himself lay always ended in disaster. Death. Another beaten heart.
He hums "I'll get the pancakes." He was never the one for sweets, stuck to the necessities. But if she said it was good, he'd have it." He scattered over her movements, her choices. "What 're gettin'?"
Karen smiled, gently pushing her hair to one side of her shoulder. "Oh, I'm getting the same," she mused, glancing over to the counter. "Plus a coffee. I could really use one.."
She checked her nails for no particular reason, just another distraction. A distraction from Frank. A distraction from the fluttery, dare she say loving feelings toward him. She hated it — hated this. Being infatuated with a man who concerned himself with his war and only his war. Karen Page knew he cared for her, sure, but would he be willing to give up the blood, the death, the pain, for her?
Karen couldn't help but feel selfish for having such a thought. She was the one that stood by his side, never judged.
"Please stay with me," Karen finally voiced her thoughts, her wants. "At least for tonight. I—"
She averted eye contact, body language quickly showing she was claming up, embarrassed. Words continued to tumble out in a tone of hidden pain mixed with fondness. Kindness.
"God, Frank, I thought you died, y'know? So many years you just — please stay." With me, with me, she thought. Desperately thought. She felt so alone. So isolated. Maybe she just wanted warmth, maybe connection. Karen knew she wanted Frank to be beside her, and that was enough for her.
He wasn't used to Karen being this open. Of course, she spoke her mind. But her emotions? Her emotions about him? They spoke through looks, touches...not words.
"I" Frank doesn't know what to say. What does someone say in this situation 'I'll never leave you, with knowing you'll die because of me?' He planned on staying, lurking, maybe getting her coffee once and a while. But anything else would get her killed. Another innocent woman's blood on his conscious -- Karen's blood on his conscious.
"I'm staying in Hell's kitchen." His breath shakes "For a while." He pauses, not knowing exactly what to say. "I don't want you to end up looking over your shoulder though. That's what will happen if I stay." They second it comes out, he regrets it.
"You don't deserve to be alone, Karen." He's never been good at helping people. He was only good with kids. But people his age? All that came out was anger.
Karen knew the dangers of being around Frank, the dangers of associating with him. That never stopped her when he had his trial, nor did it stop her all those other times she helped him out silently, leaving the flower at the sill of her window for Frank to know insider information for his missions. She fidgeted with the sleeve of her blouse, then met Frank's gaze with a determined one. She listened to Frank and nodded along for a bit, patient as ever. It was nice he was staying in the city for a while, nice that she knew where was in the first place. But his words about looking over her shoulder—it irked her.
"I know you're dangerous to be around, Frank." She stared at him for a good moment — let herself sink in just how..scared Frank looked behind the tough persona. "That—that didn't stop me from helping you out, ever."
Karen bit down on her lip, trying to control the tears that dared to well up in her eyes. She felt exhausted, keeping her emotions, her feelings, inside of her. The words I love you stayed trapped in the back of her throat. The urge to grab ahold of Frank's hand, run into the swathes of danger, and lie with him forever never showed.
Karen rubbed a hand over her face and sniffled, "I'm so alone, without you—without anyone, I'm so alone. Frank, d'you understand me? I'm a stranger in this city despite the fact I've lived here so long. You—" Karen cut herself off. Those words. 'You make me feel at home'—too lethal to say. She let out a fake laugh instead to wipe the tears streaming down her face and quickly slipped into that false guise of stability. Always did.
"D'you know how long you'll be staying?"
He smiles "I guess you're right about that one."
Frank couldn't act like he didn't see the tears, the redness. It hurt him, seeing her in so much pain. But mentioning it would unravel something that hes couldn't unravel again.
"I was thinking a year...or two." That was a blatant lie. He was thinking forever, and the more she talks the more he wants it.
He didn't quite understand why she was crying. He understood the feeling of being alone, but not the reason shes actually crying around him...about him? That seems a bit self centered to say though.
In an effort to comfort her, he places his hand on her side of the table and his foot right next to her own. God, he was awful at this.
He just watched her. No comment. Just watching the way she moves, as if there was a purpose. He never did anything without one. He truly wanted to say sorry, for just having ths life. Coming into hers. But instead, he just clenched his jaw and watched her, only looking away when he felt awkward.
She straightened, he hunched more. Even subconsciously he made a small attempt to hide. His gaze snaps to her hand, her perfect plain hands if you ignore the cracked cuticles. Karen's impulsiveness bounces to frank; He pulls her hand into his. He stares at the table, trying to pretend like he knows what hes doing.
The second the food arrives, he removes his grip even with the voice yelling at him to stop. That voice was always right, just never big enough to overpower the larger being that told it to stay silent. He smiles at the waitress, quite happy Karen has someone who recognizes her...even if it was just a waitress. He couldn't understand how anyone couldn't get Karen, or just understand how amazing she is. Maybe hes just delusional.
"Shit, wasn't expecting it to be this big. Ya might have t'steal it from me." He returns the lighthearted energy. He takes a bite of the syrup covered pancakes before easily downing it with the bitter coffee.
"Why do ya want me to stay?" He mumbles. He really couldn't help but wonder why she cared about him so much.
Karen froze as she felt Frank's hand over hers. It felt foreign, but she welcomed it. She gently interlocked her fingers between the spaces of Frank's and rubbed her thumb soothingly over the back of his hand. But that ended as soon as the food arrived. Karen ignored the pit in her stomach, the way her breath had sped up knowing Frank willingly offered some form of affection she knew he swore to never show.
She joyously tilted her head at Frank's remark and tucked her hair behind her ear. "You're lucky I didn't recommend the six stacker."
They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Karen didn't mind. She occasionally shifted her foot, her heel brushing against the rough leather of Frank's boot, like a cat seeking love. Karen didn't even realize she was doing it. Her head perked up from her plate of half-eaten pancakes at Frank's question, and her brows knit together like she expected him to already know.
"What d'you mean?" Karen asked before actually answering. "We haven't seen each other in so long. I just—I get worried about you. Where you are, what you're doing, it takes up a part of my mind."
She set down her fork and knife to take a sip of her coffee and avoided eye contact with Frank. There's other, more selfish reasoning as to why she wanted him to stay, but she wouldn't speak it. Wouldn't dare allude at it.
"You worry me more than Matt does.”
Frank loved her little mannerisms, especially the way she played with her own hair when she was feeling awkward. His foot stilled at her touch, like he wasn't expecting his touch to be reciprocated.
"I mean," He doesn't want to say it. "Every time I stay, you get hurt." God, why is he having this conversation? Why is he showing his emotions like this? Coming here was a mistake.
His stare follows her hand, hoping it would come back to his own. It never would unless he got brave enough to do it again.
Why is she mentioning red now? "I worry you more than the blind lawyer?" He questions
Karen breathed in deeply, and her brows furrowed as she tried to keep calm. She was just as stubborn as Frank — wouldn't allow anything to stand in her way.
"Frank, I don't care." Karen mumbled. She picked at her stack of pancakes for a few seconds, mulling over what she had just said. "I know the dangers of associating with you, and I'd rather take my chances. Frank—"
Karen set down her utensils to take Frank's hand in hers, a small smile finding its way onto her lips. "We can figure it out together, y'know? It—it doesn't have to be this way." She sighed. "Matt's too busy with his own thing. You know I don't exactly..trust him at the moment. He's dishonest. You're not."
His eyebrows match hers, his subconscious way of trying to relate or comfort -- He didn't know why he was doing any of this.
He laughs away the guilt, "Karen, I'm..." He hushes his voice, "People will do anything to get to me, including hurting you. Hurting anyone I am seen with. It's not going to stop."
These lies that he tells himself in his head finally form words. Yes, people aren't fond of him, but it's been quite a while since someone he was seen with has gotten hurt. Along with the fact that he hasn't gotten in too much trouble, it's mostly just making sure the creeps die. Frank looks out to the voided street, with only a few street lights in the parking lot revealing what's out. He sips on his coffee as an obvious way to shield whatever he could. "He doesn't care about others like he says he does."
And I know that, Frank. Goddamnit—" Karen sucked in a breath, though she didn't retreat her hand. Not yet. She still had hope. "I understand your life is dangerous, and honestly? Mine isn't all that safe, either. I get death threats from criminals the NYPD has arrested because of me. People still haggle me on the streets."
Karen sighed, stubborn as a mule. She leaned forward over the table a bit, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, as if someone was watching. She wished so badly he would get off his pedestal and understand she was willing to sacrifice whatever it may be to stay with him. To be with him. She couldn't bear losing him again.
"I know you care about my safety and well-being, but I'm just as self-destructive as you, Frank. We just do it a different way," She said, eyes flicking to the door. "I won't beg you to understand, but I'll keep asking because I care about you too."
She giggled at Frank's remark about Matt and settled back into her seat, though some frustration embedded itself into her delicate features, revealing her bitterness toward Matt.
"Yeah. He's too concerned with being a martyr."
Frank sighs. Hes never been a journalist with a love for protecting others and the truth. But he's been him. And god he knows shes right.
"Do you have to be right all the time?" He forces the air of a joke with a muffled chuckle.
Karen smiles as Frank chuckles, her heart fluttering at the sound of it, feeling embraced with warmth and peace.
"'Cause I know you?" She replied, bursting out into giggles. Karen placed a hand over her mouth, trying to hide the way her cheeks flushed. "I think I've stalked you enough in articles and whatnot."
He chuckles more honest now, looking out the window, he licks his lips before looking back "I'm not surprised."
If he was asked, he wouldn't deny the fact that he has read every article of hers within minutes of them coming out. Truly, it was the closest he got to her when he wasn't in New-york.
"That can't be good," Karen joked, only laughing more. Something about being around Frank made her all carefree and bright, like the sun emerging from a cloudy day.
After a minute or so, she composed herself and stared at Frank, her eyes filled with warmth and even affection.
"Remember when we first met? God, I was terrified, but I also..." Karen trailed off, trying to think how to place her words. "I felt a connection. With you."
He smiled at her own. He couldn't help but feeling content around the woman. She just.. calmed him down.
"I was scared too. God. I did not want to talk to a lawyer." He looks down at the warm drink nuzzled in-between his hard finger tips. "But you were so kind. Patient. Didn't take any bullshit though."
He continues drowning himself in the memories, almost seeing them in the drink. Their first meeting, the court. Him yelling while she just watched. Every time they argued or she stood her ground. Her reluctant agreement.
Karen listened on to Frank, her face softening into an understanding expression. She rested her head in her palm, her other hand on the table just fidgeting with Frank's napkin that was beside his plate.
"I can't imagine how scary that must've been," Karen shook her head, frowning. At Frank's next sentence, she smiled again. "I..I wanted to help. Needed to. I get how you feel. The guilt of inadvertently causing someone's death. My brother—" Karen cut herself off to look down at her plate. She still hated even thinking about it. She licked her dry lips and sighed. Frank deserved to know the full story.
"My brother, Kevin, wanted me to leave my ex-boyfriend who was..also a dealer. I was an addict. Kevin lit his trailer on fire, and Neiman came after him to take revenge. I shot him when it got bad and I fled the scene with Kevin but—"
Karen's lips quivered, and she looked around to avoid tears forming in her eyes. She could never forgive herself. Her voice shook, and she sniffled.
"I was high, drunk, completely unfit to drive and. The car flipped. My little brother died in the crash, but I didn't. The sheriff falsified the records to get me out of serving in prison."
Shit. Fuck. He wasn't good with other people's emotions. His buddy has been telling him to calm down and just listen...buddy? Is that the right for for him?
"Karen...I-" He grabs her hand. "Look at me." He commands, waiting for her to look.
Okay okay so I've been thinking about ships in Marvel rivals and so far my fav is Moon knight and punisher -- prob bc they're my top fav marvel character but yk. ANYWAYS HERES WHY (also a headcanon so stfu)
Moonknight (who's from the Dracula universe) loved/was besties with punisher in his universe. While punisher in 2099 isn't friends with moonknight. But Steven, Jake, and the other personalities are telling Marc that punisher does know him.
I mainly think this bc of the amount of interactions moonknight has with Punisher. It's very much a back and forth banter. There's many voice lines moonknight has with Punisher vs other characters. The only amount I've seen around the same level is to do with Loki and Hela, who are siblings in the MCU (fun twist on the father and daughter dynamic ig) but it's mainly actual beef.
Some lines I remember:
"Woah, punishers down. Crazy"
it's hard to tell if he's being sarcastic because his tone is very consistent throughout his different feelings.
"Sorry, frank" or something when he kills Punisher. Now, this doesn't say much but I've only heard some characters actually call him frank. But that's probably nothing as he doesn't hide his identity.
There's also a conversation if mk and Frank are on the same team. It's mainly them trying to see who's more mentally ill. But with how fucking monotoned and 'serious' they are, this could be considered a heart to heart for one or both of them.
If I think/hear more lines I'll prob edit. I'm also a mk main so there's probably more areas for shipping but idk. I'm trying to play punisher more so hopefully there's more lines 🛐🛐
So we all know that the punisher hates cops, the government, and literally anyone who uses his logo for any type of bigotry.
[If you disagree, leave please and never come back to ANY of my accounts]
But I think he would LOVE the fan art. Especially any pride fan art. Like I can imagine him at his safe house, or a motel just scrolling on his phone, Liking random fanart of him...then typing nasty comments on any fan art or ai art that uses his logo as an excuse to be a bitch or anything that relates to the government.
snowghoul
kaledo-art
theartofmadeline
prguitarman
janainaart
gummygunk
romaincrisis
tangentwithtanner
titsay
