Pairing: Frank Castle x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.2k
Summary: Frank and you decide to watch a scary movie on Halloween night, but that quickly turns into you trying to prove to Frank that you're not afraid of scary movies.
Warnings/Tags: just fluff and Frank being a sweet little smartass
a/n: This is just one of the fics I wrote for Mandy's Sweater Weather Challenge by the fabulous @she-likesorchids! It's a short, fluffy little thing! Feedback is always appreciated!
Frank Castle Tag List: @heimtathurs @linamarr
Thumbnail between your teeth, you were gnawing on it as you lay curled up lengthwise on the couch with Frank behind you. His thick arm was draped over your waist, holding you snug to the front of his solid and very warm body behind you. The pair of you were cuddled underneath one of the many blankets you kept strewn about the living room, swathed in the candlelight from the fall candle you were burning nearby. The room smelled faintly like pumpkin spice mixed with the popcorn you’d both long since finished, the bowl abandoned on the coffee table beside a few empty candy wrappers. It hadn't taken the pair of you long to tear into the Halloween candy once trick-or-treating had finally ended for the night.
Luna was curled up in her dog bed across the room, having recently been asleep until another scary moment in the movie you both were watching had startled you on the couch, causing you to shriek in surprise and fright. She had ultimately jolted upright in a half-awake panic at the noise, entirely on alert as she looked back and forth between you and Frank on the couch. Frank had yet again just laughed at your terrified reaction, though you had noticed that every time you jumped or yelped in terror, Frank’s palm would begin to trace soothing patterns along your stomach, his arm tightening protectively around you just a bit more as he lightly brushed his lips against your shoulder. Every time he did, he always had somehow managed to quickly calm your racing heart, the safety of his presence beside you relaxing your body.
But now the movie was nearing its end, which meant it was at its scariest moments. Your body was tensed against Frank’s in anticipation of what was to come, your teeth continuing to chew your thumbnail as your eyes remained fixed on the television screen. The music playing in the background of the movie was chilling, the hair raising on the back of your neck because you knew there was another jump scare coming–you could feel it.
Though that didn’t stop you from screaming and throwing both of your hands over your face when the inevitable happened. The resonate, rumbling chuckle from Frank behind you vibrated your back against his chest. The sound was comforting even if a little teasing to you as his large palm once again began rubbing affectionately against you, holding you just a bit tighter. Your face remained buried in your hands as you listened to the high-pitched screaming coming from the movie. You couldn’t bring yourself to remove your hands and look at what was going on onscreen. The audio was already disturbing enough.
“Want me to turn it off, sweetheart?” Frank asked.
“No,” you answered, voice muffled behind your hands. “Why would you even ask that? It's almost over anyway.”
“‘Cause you spent ‘bout damn near half the movie covering your face,” he pointed out, amusement in his tone. “I told you we didn’t have to watch a scary movie tonight.”
“But it's Halloween , Frank,” you countered.
“So?” he asked.
“So,” you said, sliding your hands off of your face as you glanced back at him over your shoulder, “it means we need to watch something festive. And festive for Halloween means scary .”
“Okay,” he began, nodding his head slowly, “but you hate scary movies. They always give you nightmares. You’re not gonna be able to sleep tonight, are you?”
You pulled a face, shifting in his arms to turn and face him completely. “Of course I’ll sleep tonight,” you told him. “I mean it’s just a movie. I’m not ten, Frank. I’m not scared.”
One of Frank’s brows gradually rose up onto his forehead as he sent you a disbelieving look. Instantly you frowned back at him.
“What’s with that look?” you asked.
He chuckled, shaking his head at you. “Nothin’. I ain’t given’ you no look, sweetheart,” he replied, laughter barely hidden in his tone.
Eyes narrowing at him, you pushed yourself upright onto your elbow so that you were staring down at him now. He only grinned mischievously up at you, a glimmer of something in his warm, brown eyes.
“Bullshit, Frank. That look means you don’t believe me,” you said. “I’m not afraid of a scary movie. It’s not real. I know it’s not real.”
“Alright,” he said with a light shrug, that grin still on his lips. “But don’t think I don’t notice how you’re conveniently distracting the both of us from the end of the movie right now, honey,” he pointed out.
Your eyes widened in shock, your mouth dropping open at the accusation. “What?” you asked. “Why would I possibly be doing that?”
“‘Cause you can’t handle scary movies,” he stated simply.
You sat entirely upright with a huff, turning around and making a show of focusing back on the movie, no longer curled up against him for safety. Frank shifted on the couch behind you, pushing himself upright until he was sitting on the cushion next to you. A moment later he leaned over until his mouth was just beside your ear, his warm breath brushing past the shell of it and causing you to become very aware of his proximity.
“Look at that, we missed the ending,” he teased softly. “‘Cause you’re afraid of scary movies.”
Your shoulders dropped as your head turned, shooting Frank a flat look. He was, indeed, correct. The credits were soon rolling on the screen, some eerie music playing along with them.
“I am not afraid of scary movies,” you argued.
“Okay, if you say so," Frank replied, mischief in his voice. "Guess you won’t mind if I sleep out here on the couch tonight then, sweetheart.”
Your heart sped up in your chest at his comment, the thought of sleeping alone in the bedroom making you suddenly nervous. Frank shot you a knowing smirk as he took in the look on your face, throwing his arms behind his head as he leaned back on the couch, kicking his legs out. He nestled into the cushions a bit, intentionally making a show of getting comfortable as he continued to stare in challenge back at you.
Except you wouldn’t fall for it. There was no way he’d want to actually sleep on the couch all night. He was just fucking with you, trying to get you to admit something that wasn't true.
“Fine,” you told him haughtily, rising onto your feet. “I’ll just get to spread out tonight without your ass hogging all of the blankets.”
Frank’s gaze continued to linger on you, that challenge still very much present in his eyes. “Go right ahead, sweetheart,” he urged, sinking further into the cushions. “You get the whole big, dark room to yourself tonight. All alone.” He grinned at you, tilting his head to the side as he added, “Or are you?”
You scoffed at the teasing wink he sent you, rolling your eyes at him before your attention shifted over to Luna across the room. Patting your thigh, you called her name and nodded your head towards the bedroom. Her head raised from off the dog bed, her eyes shifting between you and Frank for a moment. She watched as Frank laid back down on the couch, making himself comfortable with the blanket and a pillow as he obviously readied himself to sleep there. Luna let out a soft whine, her focus landing back on you before her head inevitably dropped back down to her bed. On the couch, Frank bit his lip, visibly struggling to fight back a laugh. You briefly sent him a dark glare before you turned, blowing out the candle.
“I’ll remember this, Luna,” you muttered, turning and heading out of the living room.
Making your way down the hallway, you stepped into the bathroom and spent a few minutes getting ready for bed. You brushed your teeth and washed off your face, taking your time and giving Frank plenty of opportunity to change his mind about sleeping on the couch. Which was the only reason you were taking so long to get ready for bed.
But when you eventually left the bathroom, flipping off the light and sending the house into darkness except for the bit of light streaking in through the living room window from a streetlight outside, you realized Frank was still on the couch. With a roll of your eyes, you headed down the hall to your bedroom, pausing in the threshold long enough to look back down the hall one last time. You could just make out Frank’s feet dangling off the armrest of the couch in the dim light. You bit your lip, suddenly wondering if he actually was going to sleep out there all night just to prove a point.
Squaring your shoulders and determined to outlast him, you turned and stepped into the dark bedroom by yourself. Making your way through the room, you tried not to envision hands reaching out from underneath your bed as you walked around it before pulling back the covers and climbing in. You did your best to try and ignore that bit of fear beginning to stir in your stomach, raising the hairs on the back of your neck. Instead, you mentally chastised yourself, internally pointing out how your fear was absolutely ridiculous and unwarranted. This was your bedroom, after all. You slept here every damn night. There was nothing to be afraid of and nothing lurking anywhere in here. And besides, Frank was just down the hall in the living room with Luna. So you weren’t actually alone in the house.
Just alone in the bedroom. For tonight.
Closing your eyes, you shifted a few times, trying to get comfortable underneath the sheets. Though no matter how many times you tugged the blanket higher up towards your chin while gradually making your way to the middle of the mattress, you couldn’t shake that growing feeling of panic as scenes from that scary movie flashed through your mind.
“Just a movie,” you whispered to yourself. “And I’m not scared. And I’m definitely not letting Frank win this.”
You clenched your eyes shut tighter, trying your best to think happy thoughts–memories of you and Frank with Luna as a puppy, the night Frank had dropped you off after your first date, the first time he'd said he loved you. But when you heard something fall down in the living room with a thump , the sound louder to your frightened mind than it really had been, you bolted upright in the bed while shouting Frank’s name loudly throughout the house.
Immediately you heard his amused laugh coming from the other room. Heat crept its way into your cheeks as you heard Frank’s familiar footsteps gradually making their way towards the bedroom, the sound accompanied by the clicking of Luna’s nails along the floor. Seconds later Frank was flipping on the light in the bedroom, illuminating his smug expression as he grinned back down at you lying in the middle of the bed, clutching the sheets to your chest.
“Knew you didn’t like scary movies, sweetheart,” he stated. “Just admit it and I’ll come to bed.”
Swallowing thickly, your fingers tightened around the fabric of the sheets balled up in your hands. At this point, you’d already embarrassed yourself and all you wanted now was for him to curl up in bed beside you so you could bury your face into the crook of his neck and pass out.
“Fine, you’re right,” you relented. “Now can you just get over here? Please?”
"Told ya so," he teased, flipping off the light.
Frank made his way over to the bed, tossing his shirt onto the floor before pulling back the covers. You scooted over on the mattress just a bit, giving him some room as he climbed in beside you, but not too much room because you had every intention of cuddling close to him tonight. Which is exactly what you did when he laid down along the bed, your arms quickly encircling his now bare waist. Nestled up against him, that tinge of fear quickly dissipated and you closed your eyes, ready for sleep.
Though when Frank laughed lightly again, your head shaking against him at the movement, your eyes flew back open.
“What?” you asked him.
"All it took was me knocking the television remote on the floor to hear you shriek like a banshee," he teased.
You gasped, lightly swatting his chest with your hand. "Frank!" you exclaimed. "You did that on purpose?"
"Maybe," he answered casually. "But you were the one on edge already, sweetheart."
"You ass!" you cried out.
Frank shifted underneath you, making like he was about to get up. Your heart jumped in your chest instantly, terrified he was going back to the couch again.
"I can go–"
"No," you said, arms tightening around him as you pulled him back towards yourself. "You're staying right here next to me, Frank."
Frank settled back along the mattress, snickering softly as his big arms wrapped around you in return.
"Yes, ma'am," he murmured.
He leaned over, planting a kiss to the top of your head. Your eyes fell closed again as you comfortably nestled back into his side, a smile making its way onto your face. Occasional ass or not, you always felt safest with him.
Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Reader Word Count: 1.2k
Summary: With his heightened senses, tonight is one night you know Matt is guaranteed to need some comfort.
Warnings/tags: hurt/comfort, poor Matty is in need of a hug
a/n: This is something I wrote in about an hour just thinking about Matt in Hell’s Kitchen during the Fourth of July celebrations and figured I'd share. It was only quickly edited and is currently just on tumblr (not AO3). Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!
On today of all days you found yourself incredibly worried about Matt.
Earlier you'd called him multiple times just to see how he was holding up this evening, but he hadn't answered a single time. His lack of response had only concerned you further, making you consider just turning up at his place unannounced. It wasn't until shortly after you'd dialed him for a fifth time while desperately hoping you weren't making things worse for him that he'd simply texted you back with just two words that were clearly a cry for help.
Please come.
Your stomach had twisted into knots at his text. If one thing always held true about your vigilante boyfriend, it was that Matt rarely ever asked for help. And certainly never from you.
Now twenty minutes later you'd rushed straight through the chaos of Hell's Kitchen to his building. Unlocking the door to his apartment with the key he had given you only a few short months ago, you weren't entirely sure what state you'd find him in inside–which only made you more nervous.
You'd known what today was when you’d woken this morning long before New York City had become a sea of noise. Even before the mass of people had been out celebrating on the streets with all the cars honking and the drunken shouting, you had known how loud the world must have become for him. And you could certainly guess at how much worse things were becoming as the first fireworks were being set off in the city while the sun was still sinking its way below the horizon.
Because today was the Fourth of July–Independence Day–and you knew this night of all nights was guaranteed to be absolute hell for Matt with his senses.
Pushing his apartment door open, you carefully made your way inside as quietly as you could. All of the lights were turned off, something you'd already expected to find. Despite him not having a use for them himself, he often had them already on in anticipation of your arrival in order to make you comfortable. But no doubt he'd kept them off tonight in order to avoid the excess noise from their electrical hum. Though the obnoxious billboard across the street was more than bright enough for you.
Refraining from calling out to him as you carefully shut the door behind yourself, you closed it as softly as you possibly could. You knew Matt was here somewhere and probably quite aware of every additional noise you were adding to the sounds of the city outside. That in turn made you hyper-aware of yourself. The sound of you slipping out of your shoes and lightly stepping through the apartment was louder to you than usual, the noise making you cringe with each step as you scanned the empty living room. Even your breathing sounded far too loud.
Another loud bang bang thundered in the distance and you winced. How that must have sounded to Matt you'd never know, but you didn't have long to ponder that thought. As you'd made your way around the leather couch, you'd caught the sound of the shower running just at the end of the short hallway beside his bedroom. Brows furrowing together, you wondered if that's where you'd find Matt.
Carefully padding barefoot through his living room, you maneuvered your way around the sparse furniture in the apartment. Another series of loud, echoing booms began again, though these fireworks were much closer than the previous round you'd heard. Judging by the darkness outside, one of the many firework shows around the city must have just begun. You found yourself grimacing at every explosion nearby as you crept your way towards the bathroom.
Pausing in the hallway, you were surprised to see the door to the bathroom partially ajar when you reached it. The sound of the shower running was unmistakable now. As you stood there you could see the faint steam wafting out into the hall, billows of it slipping between the opening. Slowly you reached up, nudging the door open with a hand.
It was no surprise that the bathroom was dark, but unlike the living room, there wasn't much light from the billboard across the street to help illuminate the space. Cautiously you stepped inside, the humidity from the warm shower hitting you instantly as you squinted, attempting to see the space around you better.
“Matt?” you whispered.
There was a brief silence before you received an answer.
“Shower.”
He'd spoken the single word with such apparent pain that you hurried straight towards the sound of his voice. In the faint glow of the billboard determinedly seeping in from down the hallway, you could just make out Matt's form sitting on the floor of his shower. It looked as if he was hunched over with his face buried in his hands. Your heart ached at the sight of him sitting there in obvious agony. He seemed so small curled beneath the spray of water in comparison to the man you often saw.
Without a word you began to strip out of your jeans and shirt on the spot, dropping the clothes by your feet just in front of the shower. You peeled off your bra and underwear next, discarding them onto the bathroom floor beside your other clothes. Fully undressed, you reached out and carefully pulled back the glass door of his shower before stepping inside. You closed it after yourself gently before lowering yourself to the floor beside Matt, your hands tentatively touching his shoulders in an attempt to silently alert him to your presence.
His reaction was immediate. Matt turned towards you, his arms easily snaking their way around your waist so tight as he drew himself against the front of your body. Nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, he pressed his ear to your throat just below your pulse point. In mere seconds Matt had quickly trapped you between the shower wall and his own naked body.
Your hands hesitantly touched him in return, moving slow and careful so as to only bring him comfort instead of more overwhelming stimulation. Left hand resting on his lower back, your right hand cautiously ran up the nape of his neck, tangling loosely within the damp strands of his hair. When another loud firework roared through the night and Matt only held onto you more firmly, you figured your touch was welcomed and you continued to slowly stroke his hair in silence.
Sitting there on the shower floor, warm water cascading down the pair of your naked and entangled bodies, you could feel Matt's reaction to every loud, repetitive bang just outside of the apartment. Each time you felt his muscles tense against you, his fingers digging into the flesh of your back as he noticeably flinched in your arms. Eventually you'd even noticed how he would stop breathing, holding it in anticipation right before a particularly loud boom rang out.
As you sat there on the hard tile floor holding each other naked in the shower, you admittedly didn't exactly know how this was helping Matt with the overload to his senses–your best guess being a form of physical white noise to him–but it didn't matter. Because you were prepared to sit with him in silence on the floor of his shower for as long as he needed you tonight, especially after the weak and strained ‘thank you’ you heard him whisper into the damp skin of your shoulder.
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Mom!Reader Word Count: 1.7k [Collection Masterlist]
Warnings/tags: fluff, humor, and Matt getting an unwelcome surprise
Summary: While distracted talking to you, Matt forgets the first rule of diaper changes.
a/n: Yet again another blurb that grew into the length of a one-shot... I also couldn't get the mental image out of my head of this happening to Matt, so here you go! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!
Leaning forward towards your laptop on the coffee table with your legs curled up on the leather couch, you reread the paragraph you’d just typed. For the past few weeks this was where you’d been stationed at home fielding emails from work when you were supposed to be on maternity leave.
While you'd been working this afternoon, you’d occasionally paused to glance across the living room, your eyes landing on the bassinet that you’d pulled out from the bedroom earlier. Every few minutes you felt compelled to check and make sure your one month old little boy was still peacefully napping. And every time you did, you longed to be finished with the work you weren't even supposed to be doing–let alone thinking about–so you could get back to just spending time with him.
Releasing a tired sigh, your attention returned to your laptop. As you worked, you became so absorbed in composing the email to your colleague that you hadn’t heard the apartment door open behind you. Neither had you heard Matt hanging up his cane on the wall hook in the entry hall, or the sound of him slipping out of his dress shoes over the loud click click click of your typing. It wasn’t until you felt hands gently landing on your shoulders that you suddenly jumped a couple of inches on the couch in surprise, your head flying over your shoulder as your heart rate spiked.
Matt leaned over the backrest, a cheeky grin on his lips. “Evening, sweetheart,” he greeted.
“Shit, Matt,” you said, throwing a hand over your heart as his hands released you. “I didn’t even hear you come in.”
“I know,” he replied. “You seemed very deep in concentration.” His brows dipped beneath his dark glasses, his head canting to the side as he paused in thought. “You’re not working again, are you? Because it sort of sounds like you’re working.”
Blowing out an irritated sigh, you nodded. “Try telling my boss that. I swear, every afternoon there’s something she can’t seem to figure out without my help. Though technically what she’s contacting me for isn’t violating any of the terms of my leave, so I can't exactly refuse her.”
Matt’s mouth pulled into a frown as he began to undo the knot of his tie. “Unfortunately,” he muttered. “Though I wish she’d leave you alone. You’re already doing enough as it is.”
“You're not the only one wishing that,” you grumbled.
Turning around and focusing back on your partially written email, you were vaguely aware of Matt making his way around the apartment, slipping out of his suit coat as he walked. But when he paused just in front of the bedroom door, a smile slipping onto his face as his head turned in the direction of the bassinet beside it, your fingers hovered over the keyboard.
Watching him over the screen of your laptop, a small smile spread onto your own lips. You remembered how he had been so nervous about becoming a father. You remembered all the late nights he'd paced the living room talking a mile a minute, worried about all the what-ifs he feared would happen and how he was afraid of being a disappointment. But even as you’d listened to his nervous chatter, you'd never once doubted him. You’d never questioned the fact that he'd be a great father.
“Someone’s sleepy,” Matt observed, attention still on the bassinet.
“He’s been out for a couple of hours now,” you told him. “Downed a full bottle of milk and passed right out. Though I give him a couple of minutes before he wakes.” You shook your head, eyes dropping fondly down to your sleeping son. “I swear he’s got a sixth sense or something,” you said. “Because he always knows every single time you come back home.”
“Like father, like son,” Matt joked.
You rolled your eyes as Matt disappeared into the bedroom, sliding his tie out from beneath his collar. Attention returning to your almost finished email, you hoped you could finally write the last paragraph so you could send it and forget about it.
“Hopefully he at least grows a better sense of self-preservation,” you whispered.
Matt chuckled in the bedroom, the sound drawing forth a smile as you continued to work. Though you’d only managed to type a couple of sentences before the sound of soft, irritated cries rose from across the room. Eyes raising from your laptop yet again, you glanced at the bassinet. Sure enough your baby boy was awake.
“I swear, he always knows,” you muttered under your breath.
Before you could even rise from off the couch, Matt appeared back in the living room. He’d apparently only managed to remove his dress shirt and glasses before he’d been interrupted, leaving him standing there shirtless with the belt buckle on his dress pants undone.
“I’ve got him, sweetheart,” he told you. “Just finish your email. Pretty sure he just needs a diaper change. Nothing I can't handle.”
“Are you sure?” you asked. “I can get him if you want to finish getting out of your work clothes.”
Matt waved you off as he made his way over to the bassinet. “It’s fine,” he assured you. “Plus, I missed the little guy today.”
Silently you watched Matt, distracted by him bending over the bassinet and scooping your son up into his bare arms. He carried him across the room to the changing table you’d both struggled to set up just before you'd given birth–a comical memory now.
“By the way,” Matt said, gently lowering your son onto the changing table before unsnapping the bottom of his onesie, “Foggy, Marci, and Karen were wondering what time would work best for us to have them stop over this weekend.”
“Oh?” you asked, perking up on the couch. “So they’re finally coming to meet the little guy?”
“Now that things have slowed at the office a little,” Matt said, undoing the dirty diaper on your son as he glanced back over towards you. “Yeah, they were hoping to. Is that alright?”
“More than alright,” you told him. “I could use some company that isn’t a crying baby for once.”
Matt’s eyes narrowed at you. “You have me, don’t you?”
A teasing grin slid onto your face as you fought back a laugh. “I said what I said, Matty.”
The corners of his mouth curled up into that smartass grin he often had before he hit you with a witty comeback of his own, but before he could retaliate, you saw what Matt failed to notice just a second before he realized what was happening. Eyes going wide, you abruptly pointed at the baby behind him as a stream of fresh piss shot up into the air. It wasn’t until the stream hit Matt square in his bare chest, his mouth dropping open in shock, that he realized his son was peeing on him.
“Not again !” Matt exclaimed, hurriedly focusing back on your son.
Throwing a hand over your mouth to cover your laugh, you rose from the couch and rushed over as Matt fumbled to grab a fresh diaper from beside himself in order to cover your son’s continuing stream. Struggling to fight back your amusement, you couldn’t help but find it funny that this wasn’t even the first time this had happened to him.
“The man without fear indeed,” you said, still choking back your laughter.
“What?” Matt distractedly asked.
“You,” you replied, coming to a stop beside him before lightly pushing him out of the way with your hip. “You're quite fearless to change a baby boy's diaper while repeatedly forgetting to keep him covered so you don't get peed on.”
“Well I was a little distracted,” he grumbled.
You held out a clean baby wipe towards Matt, still biting back the amused smile on your face. Matt accepted the wipe from your hand before beginning to clean off his chest.
“You know,” you began, focusing on finishing the diaper change, “for someone with heightened senses, you’d think out of the pair of us that it would be me who kept accidentally getting peed on. But no. Somehow it's always you.”
“Hilarious,” Matt deadpanned.
“I think so,” you teased. “But why don't you jump in the shower?” you suggested, picking the baby back up into your arms when you'd finished securing a clean diaper on him. “I'm sure you don't want to smell like pee for the rest of the night.”
Matt stopped wiping at his chest, his hand dropping back to his side as his shoulders slumped. With his attention returning to you, he asked, “You love when this happens, don't you?”
You shrugged your shoulders, still grinning. “I mean, it's kind of funny how you don't ever seem to learn,” you answered. “Because you’d think after the second or third time you’d remember the dangers of not covering him during a diaper change. Especially after that night last week.”
Matt shook his head, his expression still entirely unamused. “No, not you,” he said. He raised a hand to point a finger at the baby in your arms. “I was asking the little guy.”
Your gaze dropped down to your son before it returned to him. “Matt,” you said, once more struggling to fight down a laugh, “he's barely a month old. He can't even laugh yet. There’s no way he’s doing it for shits and giggles.”
“Uh huh,” he said, turning and making his way towards the bathroom now. “I bet that’s the real reason he always wakes up when I come home.”
Your brows jumped up onto your forehead. “To pee on you?”
“Yes,” Matt called back over his shoulder, the hint of amusement now in his tone. “Just to pee on me.”
Grinning down at the little boy in your arms, you eyed him curiously. “Is that true?” you cooed at him. “Do you do that on purpose? Did you just wake up to pee on your dad?”
Your son only looked back up at you, his mouth opening wide in a yawn before he slowly closed his eyes again.
“Huh,” you mused, carrying the now sleepy baby back towards the bassinet. “Maybe there’s some merit behind that idea after all.”
Summary: Quick drabble because I've hint dropped so many times to my partner that I want the capybara and he won't take the frickin hint but I know Frankie would.
WC: 376
Was Frank a mind reader? No wait, fuck, you DID remember mentioning it now that you thought about it. It was such a small comment in a passing moment, so the fact he not only took note but took action made your heart want to melt.
The smug triumphant smirk on his face was tempting to smooch until you were sore, but that could come later. No, you were focused on the blue and white box he held out to you.
“Oh my god is that a capybara?! They’re sooooo cute!” you exclaimed at the nature documentary Frank flipped past while searching channels for the Ranger’s game.
“You like giant rodents, huh? Bet there’s a few out by the dumpster you won’t think are as cute.” he teased
“Very funny, Franics. Oh gosh I remember Build a Bear had them for a while. But ugh, my stupid ex hated when I kept stuffed animals in our bed. He thought they were childish, so I didn’t get one. I bet they sold out a long time ago.”
“Frank, did you go to the store to get this just for me?”
“Yep, just for you baby. Wanted to surprise you.” he smiled
You carefully peeled open the flaps of the box, revealing the adorable brown stuffed animal.
Picking him up, you held him close to your chest and whispered an excited ‘eeeee’ as you did.
“Wait, if you went to the store… please tell me they made you do the thing with the heart where you have to put it over your head and spin around and make a wish?”
The thought of the big bad punisher doing the silly routine in the brightly colored store surrounded by kids as they stuffed this adorable toy made you want to burst into giggles.
“Yeah… stupidest fuckin thing… but no one else I’d make an ass of myself for. Worth it to make you smile.”
“Thank you my love, it made me so happy.” you said as you gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek
The paper tucked in the box revealed Frank had named the capybara Sweetheart, his favorite name for you.
“Better not take my place snugglin next to you in bed though.”
Surrounded by darkness, it took a moment for your tired eyes to adjust to the dim light of the motel room. Blinking slowly as you lay along the stiff, uncomfortable mattress, you noticed a few streaks of moonlight pouring inside from behind the thin curtains that covered the window across the room. The pale light mixed with the faint red from the motel's sign outside, the slight neon glow that seeped its way inside once more drawing forth that uneasy feeling in your gut. The one you hadn't been able to shake ever since you and Frank had finished your greasy dinner before falling asleep.
Something just felt wrong.
Judging by how quiet and dark it currently was, you knew it was either still quite late or very early considering the sun hadn't risen yet. You wished you could see the alarm clock from where you lay on the bed, curious as to what time it actually was. But Frank had gone to sleep last night insisting that he place himself on the bed between you and the door across the room in the event something happened–which you'd been more than happy to agree to when he'd phrased it like that. Though that meant his large body was currently blocking the single alarm clock on the nightstand along the opposite side of the bed, making it impossible for you to know what time it was.
You knew he'd wanted to get an early start this morning, wanting to hit the road again and put even more distance between you both and this area as soon as the sun rose. But there was a large part of you–the part feeling that uneasiness in your stomach–that wished you could just wake him and leave right now. You were eager to go somewhere else that made you feel less on edge. Somewhere farther away from obvious Patriot Militia activity. You weren't sure if it was just in your head, but you’d felt like something was about to go wrong ever since Frank had stopped the van at that Walmart yesterday.
Shifting a bit along the mattress and readjusting your position, you were abruptly hit with the sudden urge to relieve your bladder, the feeling causing you to quickly realize why you'd woken in the first place. Drawing your attention away from the window, your eyes fell on Frank beside you in the dark. He was laying with his back towards you on the bed looking exactly as he had when you’d first fallen asleep together. Judging by the faint rise and fall of his broad shoulder peeking out from beneath the sheets, you assumed he was still currently asleep.
Admittedly it had taken you a while to fall asleep after you'd both eaten your dinner last night. Once you'd finally stopped focusing on that lingering feeling of dread, the feeling only calmed slightly by Frank's oddly comforting presence in the bed with you, you'd soon found it hard to ignore him . The way his body weight dipped the mattress had your own body struggling not to roll right into his solid back. For a long time you'd laid there being overly aware of where you placed your legs or your arms as you'd tried to get comfortable in the small bed. You were terrified of accidentally touching him and risking him turning around and shooting you one of his disapproving, surly looks. Or even worse–being scolded by him.
And the longer you laid beside him in the bed, unable to fall asleep, you’d noticed how he smelled like gasoline and cheap motel soap. Two scents that probably shouldn’t have mixed together but somehow felt just as oddly reassuring as the weight of him in the bed beside you. You’d laid awake staring at the back of him for far longer than you cared to admit just letting the scent fill your nose and taking further comfort in it.
But as you lay there staring at his back in the dark once more, his soft and steady exhales just loud enough for you to hear over the faint sounds of traffic on the nearby interstate, your bladder's need to be emptied grew more persistent. Biting your lip, you very slowly pulled the motel’s scratchy sheet and comforter off of yourself. You tried to move carefully as you uncovered yourself, not wanting to disturb Frank's sleeping form beside you. You figured he could use all the sleep he could get considering he was the one doing all of the driving and protecting. You knew he was exhausted, though you also feared how much grumpier he might be without a good rest.
The unforgiving chill of the motel room hit you the moment you’d removed the blankets, the loss of warmth from Frank's body heat becoming impossible to ignore. He was certainly like a furnace beneath the sheets–another thing you’d found strangely comforting about sharing the bed with him. But as you pushed yourself upright on the mattress slowly, your eyes on his back as you gnawed your bottom lip, you gradually sat upright and shoved those strange thoughts from your mind. Right now you just wanted to take a piss without incurring the wrath of accidentally waking the Punisher.
Moving one leg at a time, you gently lowered your right foot to the floor before your left one followed after it. Silently, you slid along the mattress before rising to your feet, your eyes focused on the bathroom door situated across the room and by the sink. Taking a quiet step in that direction through the dark, your mind entirely focused on your very full bladder, you were surprised when something abruptly caught your left wrist.
Startling in the darkness, you gasped audibly in surprise as your head darted over your shoulder. Frank was lying awake in the bed now, having somehow rolled noiselessly onto his other side towards you. In the dim light filtering past the motel curtains behind him, you could see his eyes were open and focused on where you stood beside the bed. Your own eyes soon dropped down to where his large hand was still holding onto you, the feel of his calloused and warm fingers lightly gripping your wrist causing goosebumps to raise along your bare forearms. Something strange stirred within you under his touch, especially with the look of concern written in his eyes and the slight furrow between his brows. But the deep and tired timbre of his voice breaking through the silence quickly distracted you from the strangely pleasant sensation that you’d felt at his touch.
“What’re you doin’?” he asked.
Swallowing hard, aware of his grip still on your left wrist, you gestured over your shoulder with your right hand. “I need to use the bathroom,” you told him awkwardly. “Was trying not to bother you. Figured you'd be…upset if I did.”
Frank's gaze held yours as he silently stared at you, his eyes narrowing a little. In the seconds that followed, you found yourself becoming increasingly aware of each of his individual fingers on your skin. Trying to steady your breathing, you attempted to shoot him a small smile while you simultaneously hoped that he couldn’t somehow feel the slight uptick in your pulse beneath the pads of his fingers.
“Trust me, I wasn't about to disappear,” you assured him. A sheepish smile slipped onto your mouth as you quietly added, “I sort of need you and all. Not exactly inclined to run from you anymore.”
His expression softened at your words, his hand gradually releasing its hold on your wrist before it fell back to the bed. Frank gave you a single, wordless nod in response. For a second more you watched as he began to settle back down on the mattress, tugging the sheets up and over himself before he rolled over onto his side with his back once more facing you. The moment he’d laid down, the desperate urge to relieve your bladder once more overtook you and you hurried towards the bathroom.
Stepping inside, you flipped on the light and shut the door softly behind yourself. You side-eyed the couple of dead moths laying on the floor beside the shower as you cautiously made your way over to the toilet. Half-awake you hurried to do your business in the bathroom, not wanting to run into any living insects–especially not after how Frank had reacted to you screaming over a spider in the previous motel.
When you left the bathroom, turning off the light and navigating your way to the nearby sink just outside, you were once more thrown into the darkness of the room. Your eyes took a minute to adjust as you felt your way to the sink, but once they did, you caught sight of Frank through the mirror. Turning on the faucet and beginning to wash your hands, you curiously eyed his reflection. He was sitting upright in the bed, his posture rigid and completely still. He looked anything but relaxed and ready to fall back asleep. A cold chill spread through you as you watched him, quickly feeling like his current alertness had nothing to do with you waking to use the bathroom.
After drying your hands on the towel, you set it back on the counter before nervously turning towards him. He sat still alert on the bed, his gaze fixed straight ahead and focused on the wallpapered wall across from him. Hesitantly you took a step towards him, nerves twisting in your stomach.
“What is it?” you whispered. “What's–”
Frank held up a hand immediately, cutting you clear off. Biting the inside of your cheek, you watched as he tilted his head towards the motel door as if he was focused hard on listening to something outside. Eyes narrowing, you practically held your breath as you tried to pick up on whatever it was that he had.
At first you didn't hear anything besides the distant sound of cars and trucks speeding past the motel parking lot, the noise a constant since you'd both shown up earlier. But then you thought you caught the faint sound of voices. Voices that were speaking in the slightest of hushed whispers. And it sounded like it was coming from just outside, not that far from your motel room.
You felt your heart jump into your throat, that nagging feeling of unease and dread washing back over you instantly. Frank's head spun towards you moments later, his hard gaze causing your palms to sweat as fear gripped you in a firm hold. You knew what he was about to say before he even said the words.
“Get under the bed,” he ordered, his voice barely above a whisper. “Stay there.”
Without a word you nodded, already obediently hurrying over towards the side of the bed. Frank rose from the mattress before you'd even lowered your knees to the dirty motel floor, and as you steadied your hands against the side of the bed, not even remotely thinking about how disgusting and unclean the floor that you were about to get quite intimate with certainly was, you watched as Frank grabbed the handgun from the nightstand beside where he'd been sleeping. Breath coming in sharper, the last thing you saw before laying down along the floor was Frank’s back as he quietly paced his way to the motel door.
With a racing heart, you shimmied your way beneath the bed frame, grateful that it was just wide enough to actually fit you beneath it. Though it was a tight fit, one that was quite uncomfortable and only adding to your increasingly terrified state. The tight, enclosed space was threatening to push you straight into a panic attack as you lay there attempting to remain calm. When you heard the door of your motel room open, you squeezed your eyes shut and held your breath.
The memory of the last time you’d hidden under the bed not that long ago was scratching at the surface of your memory. The gunshots and tang of coppery blood hanging in the air pushed at the edges of your mind as you did your best to fend them off. Though that became less of a difficult task the moment you heard the distinct shriek of a woman coming from what sounded like the room right next door.
Eyes flying wide open at the scream, you swore your heart stopped beating entirely at the sound. It wasn’t long before you heard the neighboring motel door fly open, slamming into the wall with such force that it caused the adjoining wall to shake. You assumed that had been Frank bursting into the room, probably driven even further into that protective mode of his due to the horrified scream.
Your mind was already racing as you lay beneath the bed, your heart now thudding so hard you could feel your pulse hammering away in your throat. Was it the Patriot Militia in the room next door? Had they just somehow gotten the wrong room and thought you had been staying in that one? Were they about to attack an innocent person? The thought of something horrible happening to someone else because of you had your stomach knotting and coiling with guilt.
But you didn’t have long to lay beneath the dusty bed frame worrying because the sound of a fight soon grew unmistakeable next door and you couldn’t focus on anything else. You heard loud crashes, the sound of glass shattering–the mirror above the sink possibly–and the occasional sharp bang of a gun firing which had you wincing every single time it went off. Every once and awhile the noises were accentuated by a feminine scream or something that sounded like Frank’s deep rumbling voice, but it was so muffled by the other sounds that you had no idea what he was saying.
Hands curling into fists at your sides, they ached from the tension of how tight you’d balled them. Your nails were digging into your palms while your teeth dug so hard into your bottom lip to keep you from violently shaking beneath the bed that you figured there’d soon be blood in your mouth. Part of you wanted to block out the sounds of the fight from next door, but another part of you was trying hard to decipher what the voices were saying above all the noise. And every time you heard Frank’s deadly tone making its way through the thin walls you felt a sense of comfort. It at least meant he was still alive.
You weren’t sure how long you’d laid on the floor beneath that bed while trying hard to keep your breath steady before the sound of the fight had finally died down. You figured that meant Frank had dealt with the neighboring intruders the only way you expected from the Punisher. Though you could hear him talking once more, his voice still too low and muffled for you to make out the words no matter how hard you strained to listen. The voice responding to him sounded male, though. Nothing at all like the initial screaming that had sounded like it had come from a woman. You found yourself hoping she was alright.
Curiosity eventually won out as you lay there in the cramped, tight space. Raising your head a fraction from off the floor, you craned your neck and tried hard to understand what was being said in the next room. There were two male voices, one distinctly that of Frank’s, but no matter how hard you strained to listen, you couldn’t quite make out the words. And then the sound of a loud thwap startled you seconds later before a very solid thump met your ears. The next thing you picked up on was a protesting, feminine voice that was quickly growing louder as it neared your room. Brows knitting together in confusion, you lowered your head back to the floor before rolling it towards what you could see of the motel door from beneath the bed. It soon burst loudly open seconds later, startling you at the abruptness. A set of shoes you didn’t recognize practically stumbled into the room before you spotted Frank’s familiar black boots following right behind.
“I don’t know who they were!” the unknown voice protested. “I swear! They just showed up when I was asleep right before you did!”
“Not buyin’ it, kid,” Frank’s familiar tone replied.
From beneath the bed you pulled a face at his words. Kid? What did he mean by kid ? Especially after all the violent noises you'd just overheard coming from the room over. And why had he brought them with him?
Frank called your name and you immediately stiffened under the bed, your thoughts entirely interrupted at the note of urgency in his voice. You focused back on the two sets of feet that were making their way further into the room, the motel door slamming closed a little harder than necessary.
“You can come out now,” Frank continued. “We gotta go. Grab your bag and get in the van.”
It took you a minute to uncomfortably squeeze your way out from beneath the bed frame. Gritting your teeth together, you tried to maneuver your way out but inevitably ended up hitting your shoulder on the frame as you did, grimacing slightly at the pain that shot through your arm as you finished crawling out from beneath the bed. You squinted when your eyes were hit with the light from the motel room that Frank must have turned on. Your back ached as you pulled yourself up from off of the floor, eyes adjusting to the brightness. On the opposite side of the bed you spotted Frank, one hand haphazardly swinging his bag onto his shoulder, the other roughly holding onto the back of a young woman’s sweatshirt.
“Frank, what’re you doing?” you asked, eyeing the young woman who you quickly recognized from the motel lobby when you’d arrived last night. “Why is she here?”
“Because she ain’t who she’s sayin’ she is, that’s why,” Frank snapped. “Look, we gotta go and she's gotta come with us. I can explain everything in the van when we're outta here. Alright?”
You shook your head immediately, the young girl now turning her terrified eyes on you. There was blood splattered along her face and bits of it in her blonde hair, though not remotely as much blood as what was currently covering Frank’s face. You tried to ignore the way your stomach lurched at the reason as to why they most likely had blood on themselves and why it was suddenly so quiet in the room next door.
“You–you can’t just kidnap a teenage girl from a motel, Frank,” you shot back, throwing a hand at the girl. “What about the father that she’s traveling with? You don’t think he’s going to file a police report when he sees she's missing? Have them looking for us nationwide?”
Frank rolled his eyes impatiently, his hold not letting up on the back of the girl’s pink sweatshirt. “She was lying. She isn’t here with her father. She's staying in that room alone. I'm not remotely buyin’ her innocent act and neither should you.”
“No, my–my dad just ran out for a bit,” the young blonde said, her voice wavering as her terrified eyes remained fixed on you, wide and pleading as they filled with tears. “He’s going to be back any minute and if he sees me missing he is going to freak out. Please, you have to let me go. I don’t know what’s going on! I swear!”
Your eyes darted to Frank at her side, her pleas and the tears in her eyes making you feel uneasy. Shaking your head gently at him, you said, “This isn’t what we do. We aren't going to kidnap people. They probably just had the wrong room, Frank. Mixed her up while looking for me. Just let her go and let’s get out of here.”
Frank shot you a look of disbelief, his head canting roughly to the side as his eyes narrowed at you. “Oh come on, are you really buyin’ this bullshit innocent act?” he retorted. “Only one bed was messed. There were no other bags but her backpack. No trace of anyone else in the room. And the asshole I questioned seemed pretty damn surprised when he saw me ‘cause he didn't realize you were here. The facts are in front of your face, Spunky,” he continued sharply. “Whatever the hell is goin’ on, she stepped into the same pile of shit you did. They’re after her, too. It's plain as day.”
Your eyes flew to the young woman who was still shooting you a pleading look, tears welling in her eyes as a couple slipped down her cheek. Uncertainty filled you as you studied her. She looked like she was barely even eighteen, how could the Patriot Militia have possibly been after her as well? What could they have wanted with her? The very idea of the terrorist organization targeting her seemed utterly ridiculous. It seemed more likely that she'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time, staying in a motel room that was neighboring yours and causing them to mistake her for you.
But yet, as you thought about it for a moment, you realized that her age alone should've been a complete giveaway to these people that they had the wrong person. If they'd thought she was the news reporter they were chasing down, seeing her should have made it quite obvious that she was far too young to even be a news reporter.
“Please,” the girl begged you. “ Please . I just want to go home. That’s all. I don’t know what’s going on or who those people are, I swear. I promise I won’t even tell the cops about either of you. Just let me go!”
“You either trust me or you don’t, Spunky,” Frank said, his impatience clear in his tone. “Cops are gonna be here any minute. We need to go. And I ain’t risking leaving her behind. So either you fall for her bullshit and we end up targets in a jail cell, or you grab your goddamn bag and we get the hell outta here. I need to call Madani.”
Inhaling a shuddering breath in, you couldn’t believe what you were about to do. Slowly you nodded at Frank, your stomach twisting as you headed over to the footboard of the bed and bent down to grab your bag from off of the floor. You shouldered the strap of it, your eyes meeting Frank’s as you straightened. A look of relief immediately washed over his face.
“Only because I…somehow trust you,” you told him softly. “Though, this seriously doesn’t feel right. She's just a kid.”
“I can see that,” Frank agreed, gesturing his head towards the door. “But we gotta go.”
With nerves and that sense of unease flooding your body, you walked past him, wincing as the young girl began sniffling softly behind you. It didn’t feel right dragging her along with the pair of you even if Frank seemed to believe she was somehow in danger herself. And you couldn't help but feel empathetic to her current situation, especially since only days ago Frank had practically kidnapped you, too.
Making your way out of the motel room, you couldn't resist shooting a glance at the room to your right. The room Frank and the girl had just come from. Thankfully the door was shut, blocking your view of whatever lay behind it. The thought of what it was hiding had your blood running cold, a shiver racing down your spine. The scent of gunpowder and the coppery tang of blood from what had happened in the motel just days ago filled your nose, the memory causing you to feel sick.
Forcing your attention to the parking lot ahead of you and tearing it away from the door, you focused your eyes on Frank's van as your feet led you towards it. You weren't going to think about what had happened in either of those motel rooms. Not right now, not if you didn't want to lose your shit in the motel parking lot. Because Frank was right, you needed to get out of here before the police appeared, and truthfully, you were grateful that you were still breathing.
As you approached the van, you could hear the young girl struggling against Frank's grip just behind you. Of course Frank remained silent despite her continued pleas, not remotely engaging with her now. That only seemed to upset her further, which in turn only increased your feeling of guilt for what you were both doing to her.
Opening the passenger door, you began to climb into the front of the van. You heard Frank leading the young woman around to the back of it before he roughly opened the doors. Cringing as you settled into the front seat, your arms hugging your little duffle bag to your chest, you heard the distinct sound of a zip tie tightening. Turning around in your seat, you frowned at the sight of one of the zip ties already secured around her right wrist.
“Please, don't,” the girl pleaded with Frank as he grabbed her other wrist. “Please don’t do this.”
“That's not necessary, is it?” you called back to Frank.
Frank's stern gaze shifted from the blonde to you, his hand still firmly gripping her wrist as he paused. In the distance your ears picked up on the sound of police sirens, the noise immediately increasing your panic. They were most certainly on their way here and you were both quickly running out of time. No doubt Frank knew that, too.
“We don’t know her,” Frank shot back, his head gesturing to the blonde. “You really want to leave her loose back here? Hands free so she can attack us?”
Your gaze shifted uneasily to the girl beside him. “You don’t really think a teenage girl is capable of that, do you?” you questioned back.
“I don’t know who the damn hell she is, Spunky,” Frank growled. “And personally, I’d rather not risk finding out. You get me?”
Eyelids slowly lowering, you nodded in defeat. Turning back around in your seat, you felt sick to your stomach as you heard him finish securing her wrists before hefting her into the back of the van. Rather roughly he slammed the back doors shut before appearing at the driver’s side of the vehicle seconds later. He opened the door and climbed in, tossing his duffle bag down on the floor beside your feet before shoving the key into the ignition and starting the van. You shot him a questioning look, your feet shifting away from the bag.
“You want her sitting back there with the guns?” he snapped.
“No,” you admitted quietly.
Frank let out a grunt in response before he put the car in drive. As he began to peel out of the motel’s parking lot, he started shifting in the driver’s seat, one hand searching the pocket of his pants. Your head turned slightly over your shoulder, shamefully eyeing the young woman in the back. She was sitting on the floor of the van hunched over, her face buried in her hands. You’d been about to open your mouth to say something, but Frank had roughly bumped something against your arm to get your attention. Gaze returning back to him beside you, the sound of sirens growing even louder, you frowned at the phone in his hand.
“I’m gonna need you to call Madani,” he told you. “Put her on speakerphone. I need to focus on driving if you wanna get outta here.”
Wordlessly you accepted the phone from his hand and pulled up the contact list. The only other number saved in the phone that wasn’t your new burner phone was that of a Dinah Madani. Hitting the call button, you watched the phone screen change before you pressed the button to place it on speakerphone. The sound of the dial tone cut through the tension filling the van as you sat there quietly. The phone rang four times before she finally answered.
“What is it now, Castle?” Madani’s tired and irritated voice greeted from over the line. “It’s almost three in the morning.”
“We got another problem, Madani,” Frank answered, his eyes focused straight ahead. “Need you to clean up another mess for us.”
There was a curse on the other end of the line before Madani let out a sigh.
“You know,” she began, the sleep slowly leaving her voice, “just because I gave you the clearance to protect someone by any means necessary, that doesn’t mean you need to keep dropping bodies.”
“Wasn’t tryin’ to,” Frank replied, glancing in the rearview mirror as he spoke. “But they went after someone in the motel room next to ours and–”
“So help me, Castle,” Madani immediately began, “if you got an innocent bystander killed, the deal will be off.”
“No, I didin’t,” he countered. “They were actually after this girl. Barely looks to be eighteen. Apparently didn’t even know we were right there, too. Which is either coincidental or somethin’ else, I don’t know. But either way, I wasn’t just gonna sit back and let them take her.”
There was a pause before Madani answered.
“So what happened? Is she okay?” she asked. “Is she with you? Why are they after her?”
Frank glanced over his shoulder at the girl, your own eyes following his gaze. Her attention was focused on the both of you, clearly listening in to the phone call. There was a hard to read expression on her face, but something about it made her seem a little less innocent as you eyed her.
“She’s alive,” Frank replied, focusing back on the road. “Brought her with us. But she’s refusing to say why they want her.”
“Well let me know whatever you find out,” Madani told him. “But just…no torturing her, okay? She’s just a kid so treat her like one.”
You saw the way the muscle twitched in Frank’s cheek at her words, his eyes narrowing at the road. She’d touched on a nerve with that comment, it was obvious.
“Wouldn’t do that, Madani,” Frank ground out. “That’s not what I do.”
A loud sigh came from the other end of the phone before you heard the click of a pen.
“So where is the mess I need to clean up?” Madani asked.
“Sunny Daze Motel,” Frank told her.
Your attention shifted to the side mirror on the van as Frank repeated the motel’s address to her. Some of your nerves were eased by the fact that you couldn’t hear the police sirens anymore and you definitely couldn’t see any flashing blue and red lights. And that seemed like a good thing. It meant that you both had once more managed to get away with your lives intact. And now Madani would clean up the mess Frank left behind and keep the cops off of your back again, which was a relief even if you still felt sick at the thought of the dead bodies you knew were laying back in that motel room.
“There uh, was something else, Madani.”
The sound of unease in Frank’s tone caught your attention instantly. Head darting over your shoulder, your eyes immediately narrowed at him curiously. What else could there have been besides the dead bodies and the mysterious girl?
“What, Castle?” Madani asked carefully.
You could see the way Frank hesitated, his eyes determinedly focused on the road ahead of him. The shift in his demeanor had you studying him closely as he spoke, paying close attention to every word.
“The guy I questioned back at the motel,” Frank began slowly, “he mentioned something. Something that seemed…concerning.”
He paused, his hands readjusting their position on the steering wheel. His grip seemed tighter than usual when he was driving, almost as if he was…uncomfortable. Or nervous.
“Yeah?” Madani pressed.
“Not sure how much clearance you’ve got at Homeland, but have you uh,” Frank asked carefully, his eyes still straight ahead, “you ever heard of something called Project Chimera?”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Your eyes narrowed even further as you studied Frank, certain he was intentionally avoiding looking at you now. Whatever the hell that was didn’t sound good, that much you could gauge.
“No,” Madani answered slowly, dragging the word out. “Should I know what that is?”
“Heard it mentioned a long time ago. Back when I was still in that special forces group,” Frank continued, still very much ignoring the way your eyes were boring into the side of his face. “S’posed to be something that doesn’t exist even though it does. Top secret government shit, y’know? Something I remember being asked to join. But I said no ‘cause it seemed…not quite right.”
“You got more than that to go on?” Madani questioned.
Frank’s mouth set into a hard line, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tight you saw his knuckles whiten now. He was definitely nervous and that had you terrified. What could possibly scare the Punisher?
“All I remember hearing ‘bout it after the fact,” Frank answered, “was that they were making enhanced soldiers. Not training them– making them.”
Your blood ran cold as you stiffened in the seat. You didn’t know what that meant, but it didn’t sound like a good thing. Over the line, you heard Madani clear her throat and you waited with bated breath, hoping you’d get something more from either of them.
“So you…you’re telling me that there might be some sort of…bigger threat after her now?” Madani hesitantly asked. “Is that what you’re saying? That it’s not just assholes with guns anymore?”
“Dunno,” Frank replied. “Dickhead mentioned his superiors weren’t a fan of mine. Managed to mention Chimera. Our girl here told me some higher up government shitbags are behind all this mess with the militia. So my guess?” he continued on. “The dickhead must’ve meant some higher ranking officials have access to these soldiers. I must be making enough trouble for them to need to call in somethin’ more…reliable.”
“Wonderful,” Madani muttered. “Alright, well, I’ll deal with your motel problem now, then I’ll do my best to dig around and see what I can find on some secret, nonexistent government project. In the meantime, you find out what’s up with the other girl and keep your goddamn head’s down, okay? I don’t need any of you dying on me before I can get this shit dealt with.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Frank said. “That’s always the plan, ain’t it?”
The call ended abruptly and for a moment you just sat there with the phone in your hand, trying to process what you’d just overheard. Eventually you cautiously reached your hand out, giving the phone back to Frank when he briefly glanced at you. You watched as he pocketed it once more, his attention remaining focused on the road. But you couldn’t stop staring at him after what you’d just learned, fear once more enveloping you where you sat.
“Are we just…not going to talk about that?” you whispered, voice shaking.
“Talk ‘bout what?” Frank asked, eyes still on the road.
“The bigger threat?” you replied. “Enhanced soldiers? Whatever Project Chimera is?”
At the sound of your quiet, terrified voice, Frank’s gaze finally landed on you in the seat beside him. His expression softened, sympathy shining back at you in his dark eyes. At the moment, he looked far more compassionate than you’d ever seen him before.
“Hey, ‘s’alright,” he assured you. “You don’t need to worry about it. No one is gonna hurt you, okay? I made you a promise. And I’m a stubborn asshole, remember? Nothing is gonna happen to you.”
Feeling tears prick at your eyes, your attention switched to the road. Arms hugging your duffle bag tighter to your chest, you once more felt the weight of everything crashing down on you. Frank was good– really good–at fighting. But neither of you even knew what this Project Chimera was or what an enhanced soldier was even capable of.
“You don’t know that,” you whispered back, shaking your head lightly. “You can’t possibly know that.”
“You’re gonna be alright, you got that?” Frank stated firmly. “We’re gonna take these assholes down. And at the end of it, you’ll be just fine, Spunky.”
A tear snuck its way out of the corner of your eye, slipping its way down your cheek. You wanted to believe him, you really did. But right now you felt like the odds were quickly stacking against you both.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you whispered back.
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