When he first hears that Frank Castle is alive, all that Foggy can think is not again. It's not that he doesn't like the man; he doesn't, but there are plenty of people whom he dislikes but whose presence he tolerates. He is a lawyer, after all. No, the problem is that, after everything that has happened, he's sick of vigilantes and their twisted sense of justice. All they do is bring death and pain to those around them. No matter what else he might have been, Matt was a good person, yet his decisions frequently put Foggy and Karen in danger physically, economically, and even legally. How much worse must it be for Castle, someone who was – is – so ruthless and single-minded?
He understands where they're coming from; he really does. The legal system is far from perfect, and Foggy knows that better than most, having seen innocents die and criminals walk free on the basis of who could afford the better lawyer. Still, at the end of the day, its important to have something. If people start to see it as normal to dress up in a costume and run around in search of retribution, then it's going to have consequences. After all, without a social contract, community itself will start to crumble.
Deep down, he knows that his problem with Frank Castle coming back isn't just that he's a vigilante, but that he's the wrong vigilante. If it were Matthew Murdock's face plastered all over the news, he knows he would be having an entirely different reaction. But it isn't, and Foggy maintains that Frank Castle's crusade is doing more harm than good.
However, for reasons that Foggy doesn't understand and, frankly, never wants to, it's clear that Karen thinks differently. He calls her after he sees Castle on TV; while they may not be as close as they once were, he still cares about her deeply and knows that the man's return will throw her. But while she puts on a good show of acting surprised, he knows her. If she was really just hearing about it for the first time, she would be speaking a mile a minute, torn between a dozen different emotions. Yet while she says the right words and even nails the tone, there's an underlying sense of calmness that makes it clear that something is amiss.
She isn't panicking.
She already knew.
She protected a fugitive.
He isn't prepared for this.
"You would tell me if you needed me, wouldn't you?" he asks as Karen pauses for breath. She's midway through complaining about how Castle let them all believe he was dead, but since Foggy's almost positive she's lying, he doesn't feel guilty about interrupting her. "For anything."
"I always need you," she replies, her voice as light as a cloud and twice as fluffy. He can almost hear the smile in her words as she teases him.
Usually, he would make a joke about how it's nice for someone to finally recognise his sheer awesomeness and endless charm. But this is far too important for that. He needs straight answers, not quick repartees. "Karen. I'm a lawyer; I've been trained to recognise non-answers."
He can almost picture her looking away and shaking her head like she always does when she's frustrated. "You know I'm an adult, right? I'm tired of people assuming I can't take care of myself."
"What about Castle? Does he assume you can take care of yourself?"
"He did," she answers, her voice clipped. "Back when I saw him last. At least, he recognised that my life is ultimately my choice."
To her, that's a good thing, but to him, it's yet another example of vigilantes making messes and leaving them for other people to clean up. Karen may be volunteering, but Castle should never have put her in that position to begin with. Foggy doubts that he will be able to change her mind, though, so instead, he says, "I know that, too, Karen, but everyone needs help sometimes. I need to know you'll tell me if you ever need mine."
She sighs. "Of course I will. I'm not totally reckless."
Foggy isn't entirely sure about that last part, but he lets it be. "Promise?"
She swears at him but, nevertheless, almost immediately follows it up with, "Yes, I promise, okay?"
"Good." He lets the word rest between them for a moment before adding, "Are you busy next week? It's been a while since we've caught up."
"I'm always busy, but I'm sure I can take a night off. What were you thinking?"
It isn't until a few hours later, after they've hung up with the agreement to meet for dinner at a local bar after work on Tuesday, that he realises that their definitions of need might be different. But there's no way to make her accept help if she doesn't want it; the best that he can hope for is that she'll keep his offer in mind just in case.
For the first time, Foggy is sort of glad that Castle is, presumably, still in her life. With or without him, she's going to keep throwing herself into dangerous situations in pursuit of justice. He's beginning to think that Karen Page might be just as much of a vigilante as Daredevil and the Punisher, just with words and articles instead of fists and guns. And that terrifies him. After all, there has yet to be a fight – legal or literary – that he hasn't seen her rush headfirst into with the self-preservation instincts of a toddler, even when it would make more sense to hand the situation over to the police. If she isn't going to ask Foggy for help, then maybe she'll ask Castle. Someone is better than no one, after all.
He's already lost one friend to vigilantism. If Karen isn't careful, then one day, it's going to get her killed, just like it did to Matt.
Foggy doesn't want to lose her, too.
A/N: Kastle: the unexpected dark horse of OTPs.