Wait For Me
Happy #KastleChristmas!
Yes, I did wait until the last possible second to post 🙃
And yes, I followed none of the prompt days (I think this falls under frosty friday, tradition thursday, and festive friday?? Maybe?)
Anyway here is a reunion fic, post TPS2. It’s the holidays, Karen is waiting for a package to arrive but Frank arrives instead, and it’s angsty cause of course it is.
Inspiration came from all over this time. It just might be a Christmas miracle that I didn’t find a scenario to rip off and make it Kastle for this fic. Huzzah!
A huge thank you to @evilbunnyking for being my beta reader. You are the best, your encouragement and enthusiasm made this fic happen.
Happy New Year Kastle fam! Here’s to 2022!
Enjoy!
“Karen Page, please stop refreshing the FedEx page. Now you’re giving me anxiety.”
Karen looks up from her phone and realizes that Ellison has strolled into her office, papers in one hand and the other hand in his pocket.
“How do you know I was checking for the package again? I could’ve been checking Twitter.” Karen fibs a little too quickly in an attempt to cover her stress.
“You and I both know you don’t do Twitter. Also this package has been the bane of both of our existences since Thanksgiving.” Ellison reminds her, which only adds to her irritation.
“If I knew ordering a case of wine and getting it shipped all the way across the country would be such a process, I think I would’ve just gotten Foggy and Marci literally anything else.”
“And remind me again, this is for their engagement party…?”
“Yes, their engagement party that they are hosting on New Year’s Eve.”
“I am sure it will get here before then.” Ellison assures her.
“It’s not just getting here before the party, Ellison, I have to sign for it - they’re not just going to leave a case of alcohol with my super. And FedEx will only make a certain number of attempts to get it delivered to me, and if I am not able to accept the delivery during any of their attempts they’re going to ship it back…”
Karen knows she is ranting at this point, so it’s a relief when Ellison raises his hand.
“It’ll be fine. And I think I can help you take your mind off of it.” He says as he shakes the papers in his hand. “Can you look at this last editorial piece? We have to finalize this holiday edition of The Bulletin…”
“Yes, of course.”
Karen gets out of her chair and puts her phone in her back pocket. She follows Ellison to his office but she still can’t take her mind off of that damn package. Nevertheless the rest of her Monday carries on with edits and meetings, and when Karen locks her office for the night, the package remains in transit from Chicago.
…
That night Karen lies in bed, continuously refreshing the tracking page on her phone. She knows better; nothing is going to change in the three seconds it takes for her to press the curved arrow next to the URL, and yet...
Karen groans in frustration. Snow has begun to fall outside the window. It glistens, each snowflake made of a thousand tiny diamonds illuminated by the street lights on her street. Something about the dim yellow light brings a memory, a flash of a man in black sitting across from her in a diner booth. He’s drinking coffee and giving advice about how to hold on to the people you love with two hands and to never let go of them.
She hasn’t seen Frank Castle since the hospital, when she offered him a way out. A way out of the war he refused to let go of. Why was she even thinking about him? He had made his decision and she was done standing by. He made it clear that there was no after for him and that he would not fight for one. When she walked away, she felt a chapter close.
Or so she thought. Another memory. She came home from work one random day and saw a pot of white roses on her kitchen island. She found a card with a phone number scribbled on it. She knows she should’ve been concerned that he managed to break into her apartment, but then again he did break into her car once so it honestly didn’t phase her.
She added the phone number to her phone under the initials F.C. and ripped up the card. She had thought about reaching out to him on numerous occasions but chickened out every time.
Maybe it is loneliness. Maybe it is curiosity. Maybe she genuinely just wants to know if he is okay and still alive. It really doesn’t matter in the end. Karen calls the number and is greeted to an automated voice saying to leave a message after the tone.
She doesn’t remember what she says. It was something along the lines of that she hopes that he has found peace and that he is happy.
She goes to bed after that, thoughts of Frank dominating her mind rather than the case of wine and where it may be on its journey.
…
The rest of the week passes in a blur of twinkling lights, red and green swirls, and winter snow constantly in Karen’s peripheral vision. It’s the week before Christmas and there were deadlines to meet for the holiday edition of The Bulletin. It’s ready to go on Friday afternoon, just in time for the office party. Baked goods dominate the kitchen area as cheap wine fills everyone’s plastic cups. Karen dodges away from the festivities in her office and checks the Fedex tracking page for the first time all day.
The package has finally arrived in New York but it is taking its sweet time getting to Queens. The estimated delivery times have come and gone and now this time it is supposedly going to arrive between 4:00 PM and 8:00 PM.
“You can go Page.”
Karen jumps. Ellison has once again gotten the drop on her. He’s leaning against the door frame, shaking his head as he bites into a chocolate chip cookie. She almost wants this package to go missing just so she can get her heightened sensitivity back to normal.
“I’m so sorry, Mitchell. I honestly have not checked all day, I set up notifications to be sent when there were updates, at your suggestion. Which apparently don’t work, because I didn't even see that they have given me a new arrival time frame.”
“It’s okay. I get it. Foggy and Marci are your friends and you want to make sure that they get their gift. Just wanted to say that you did a great job this week. Now go.”
“Thank you - happy holidays!” Karen says as she grabs her purse and her coat. Ellison gets out of her way and then she’s out the door.
“Make sure you text me when the package does arrive, the suspense is killing me,” Ellison shouts to her over a Mariah Carey song. Karen gives a hasty thumbs up and laughs while descending the stairs.
…
Karen is back home in an hour and there is no sign of a FedEx delivery truck anywhere on her street. It is only after 6:00 PM though, so she still has two hours for this package to arrive.
She tries to keep herself occupied. She puts on pajamas, makes herself dinner, puts on a holiday movie with that actress from that popular teen movie, and pours herself a glass of wine. Only fifteen minutes have passed and no ring from her buzzer. She shuts the movie off and refreshes the tracking page on her phone again. Nothing has changed.
“Ugh! Come on!” Karen fumes.
Just then her buzzer goes off. Karen flies off her couch and runs to press the door button. Normally she would have asked who it was but all she could feel was elation that this package had finally arrived.
“Oh shit.” Karen pats her pajama pants pockets and realizes that she doesn’t have her drivers license. She rushes back to the couch to grab her purse, runs back to the door, and rips it open.
It is not the wine delivery.
“Frank?”
He takes a step back but doesn’t say anything in response. In that moment all Karen does is process the fact that Frank Castle is standing outside her apartment door. His hands are in his pocket and he has grown a beard. He doesn’t look like he’s been in a gun fight and he wears a black coat. It’s a stark contrast to the last time she saw him lying in a hospital bed, handcuffed and still haunted by the loss of his entire world.
“Frank, what are you doing here?” Karen asks, realizing that he still hasn’t said anything.The prolonged pause between them has gone past the point of awkwardness.
“Hi, Karen. Did you, uh, order in?” he finally says.
“No, I am expecting a delivery. I’ve actually been waiting on this delivery for… it feels like forever. I thought you were… a case of wine.”
“Oh. Well, I’m not.”
“No, you’re not.” Karen confirms.
“May I come in?” he asks hesitantly.
Karen involuntarily tilts her head to the side and lets out a sigh.
“I wouldn’t blame you if you said no. But you did call.”
“Yes, I called and left a message. I just wanted to see…” she starts to confess.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to get here, I was in Louisiana…” Frank interjects, and Karen would swear that he sounds ashamed.
“Oh God, Frank, I didn’t expect you to come in person. I just thought you would call me back. You didn’t have to come here.”
“Yeah, I did.” he says after a moment.
Karen opens her mouth and then closes it. She steps to the side and opens her door wider. Frank walks in tentatively. After Karen closes the door and locks it, she approaches Frank.
“Seriously Frank, why did you come here?”
“I had to see you,” he admits quietly. “And ask you in person…”
“Ask me what?”
“Why did you call me?”
The silence hangs between them and Karen struggles to find the words. It was impulsive to call him but she doesn’t regret it. Okay, maybe she does a little bit, given how he is asking her why. Karen then realizes that she’s been here before with him. Last time she was barefoot and he was wearing a hospital gown. His I don’t want to lingers in the back of her mind and every instinct in her wants to shut down.
“I honestly don’t know.” She says eventually. ”The way we left things…”
“I know. I didn’t expect to hear from you ever again.”
“Is that what you wanted?”
“I thought it was for the best.”
How does he do that? Continue to put her in a new hell every time they’re together? She knows he feels the same way she does and yet he continues to break her in the name of honesty over and over again.
“For the best? To push away the one person that still cares about you?”
“I did it for you, Karen.”
“Frank do not…” She seethes.
“I had to do it,” he says with a confidence that doesn’t meet his eyes.
Karen rolls her eyes, tucks her hair behind her ears and starts to walk toward the couch. She thinks he’s going to follow but when he doesn’t, she has half a mind to kick him out. She honestly should. Instead she turns around to face him.
“No you didn’t. I said we could figure it out together. I gave you that choice.”
“Why did you? Why did you offer that choice at all?”
“You’re seriously asking me why?” Karen asks incredulously.
Frank scratches his beard and looks away. Karen braces herself, ready for him to walk away again. It’s what he does, nothing is going to…
“I need to hear you say it.”
Karen’s eyes widen and for a split second, she thinks she can’t do it. She’s still so angry but now he’s looking at her like she is holding his life in her hands. And they both know it, one word from her and she will never see him again.
Many nights have passed where she would stay up and think about what she would say to Frank. It was a moment she thought would never come. But here he is and he’s looking at her, agonized but hopeful. And suddenly, it comes to her.
“Frank… I still feel the same way I did back in that hospital. Back in that elevator. Back by the waterfront. Back in the diner. I really can’t put it into words… the moment I met you I just knew. I knew you were going to be important to me. I didn’t know how and I didn’t know in what way. I love you. It’s that simple. And also difficult. But I want to try. And I think we can make it. So if you came all this way to tell me that you don’t want to for the second time then…”
In two steps Frank closes the distance between them and then his mouth is on hers. He’s cradling her face gently, brushing her cheeks with his thumbs. He pulls back, that soul searing stare of his boring into her.
“Does that… clear some things up for you?”
Karen doesn’t answer right away. Her chest is tight and yet she feels like she’s flying.
“Yes. However I think I still need some further clarification…”
She reaches for him and crashes her mouth against his. He responds and grips her waist and back fiercely to him. When he pulls back again, out of breath, he rests his forehead against hers. There’s no blood, panic, or a gun in their space this time. Just their warm breath, the hardwood floor beneath their feet, and an ease that Karen has not felt in a long time.
“Frank, what do you want?”
“You. Just you.”
It’s everything Karen wanted to hear. She feels his heart racing beneath her palms and she wants to believe he’s feeling happy but she knows him. Frank is a man who will look for danger first, and he will throw himself in the line of fire if he thinks it will protect the people that he loves.
“I want to believe you, I just…”
She looks at him. Frank brushes her hair back and kisses her forehead. His gaze has softened but when he takes her hand in his, he is holding it like she’ll disappear if he lets go.
“I know. I pushed you away. I was trying so hard to run away from this, and it was because I was scared. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, too. But I’d rather spend whatever time I have left with you, then never see you again. I hope you’ll let me stay by your side. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
He kisses her again and she burns, he burns, they burn.
…
They’re drinking their morning coffee on the couch. Frank only had the clothes on his back but Karen managed to find an old pair of oversize sweatpants for him.
“Are you sure you’re not cold?” She asks for the fifth time since they woke up.
“No. In fact your apartment is hot, you got the heat on full blast or something?” He asks in a half serious, half joking tone.
“I don’t know, you’ll have to talk to my super. I don’t pay for heat here…”
Just then the buzzer goes off.
“Is that the case of wine?”
“Oh my God. I think it is.”
Karen gets up from the couch and presses the door button. A few moments later a FedEx delivery man is in the doorway with a case of wine from a winery in California Marci visited on her 30th birthday. She pushes the delivery aside, breathes a sigh of relief.
“Was it worth the wait?” Frank asks, emphasizing the wait. He meets her in the kitchen, sets their mugs down on the kitchen island.
“Yeah.”
“Really?” He is in complete disbelief.
“Really.” she echoes, strong and steady.
She grabs the mugs and rinses the remnants of the coffee in the kitchen sink. Frank walks over and wraps his arms around her waist, kissing the crown of her head.
“So… got any plans for New Year's Eve?” Karen inquires, hoping the question lands lightly.
“What did you have in mind?”
Karen smiles, and proceeds to tell Frank about a certain engagement party. Hopefully Foggy and Marci won’t mind that she is bringing a plus one now.