I rewatched punisher and I am once again in love with Frank, this is an au story. Rated m for violence, language, death and smut. Hope you enjoy it, rate and review please. 3

A frown that hadn't moved still took up residence on franks sculpted face as he watched Curtis work on the half conscious girl. The flash of red hair and snow coloured skin that had jumped in front of him and taken the two bullets meant for him. He'd arrived to the mob sight to find almost all of them choking on their own blood, begging and crying their moms. He had tread lightly around each body as though they were booby traps on the ground, highly trained ears tuning in for any out of place sound. It had been too fast the barrel opening and the bullets hitting. He'd rushed from the sight, the girls small frame slung over his shoulder as he'd ran though the well trodden back streets. Almost kicking in Curtis's door and dropping the girl's body on the bed. He couldn't believe she'd done that, taken a bullet for him as if she owed him something. Who was this girl writhing around in pain as bullets were plucked from her body as wounds were cauterized, the smell of burning flesh charring the inside of his nostrils as he held her down by her shoulders. Christ for someone so slight she was furiously strong, and he had to use his whole weight to keep her still and stop any further damage being done. As the bullets were removed emerald green eyes fluttered open momentarily, "Why the fuck would you do that for me?" Franks words were huskier and more strained than usual, almost as though he was on the brink of tears. The redhead glanced up an almost smile appearing on her pretty face and two words were slurred as they escaped though pants of blood. "Semper Fidelis" before the beauty finally succumbed to the exhausting of her healing body.

Frank ran a large hand over tired features, as he sat next to the bed that contained the slumbering princess currently. When they were sure the women was out of the woods, they had returned to Franks squat and Curtis had left, to share his talent of helping people, the passion that drove him in life. At times he wished he could have been the same, his passion his drive to fix others. Unlike his own drive and desire for revenge. Thoughts were cut short by a small cough and rasped words from her pink lips. "Water?" The male stood at this request and left the room finding a glass and filling it before returning. Pressing the glass into her waiting open hand his breath caught momentary in his thoart as their fingers grazed the other. And emerald eyes hit dark brown ones momentarily. Before the whole glass was downed and handed back to him. "More," she let out hoarsely. "No, you drink too much you'll be sick, and I am not cleaning that up m'am." His voice steady but firm. "M'am, Christ nobody has called me m'am in a long time." She let out a laugh but hissed when she felt a shot of pain pass though her. "I'm Carla." She admitted plainly, "Frank." The male shot back. "I know who you are Frank, the big scary punchier." She said dramatically even the smile on her pretty face portrayed how much she was joking.

The brown haired male refused to humour that sentence instead focusing on earlier words. "How long did you serve?" he questioned. Carla's wide eyes focused on him, "Three tours, two in Afghanistan and one in Iraq." Carla said. Sitting up straight, she winced as she felt a sharp pain, before glancing down realising the sheet was covering just her bra, as he tight tank had been cut off to expose the wounds. "Can I borrow a top?" she questioned, indicating to herself. Frank grabbed her plain black one and chucked it towards her, pulling it on she nodded a thanks. Standing up, she tucked the two long top into the front of her jeans. Frank hadn't managed to see her body yet, but standing in front of him now all he could focus on was her beauty. Legs that went on forever, flat and toned body from years of training, medium sized breasts. That fitted her frame perfectly, the t shirt flattering her small waist now it was tucked in. Face scattered with freckles, and plump lips, cheekbones and jaw line that could cut glass. Large green eyes completed her, surrounded by long lashes, and red hair that shone in the sunlight and feathered just under her shoulders, natural waves currently knotted from the days in bed and the writhing in pain. He was transfixed with her beauty until he could finally tear his eyes away and repent asked the question he had asked once before. "Why did you take those bullets for me?"

The redhead stepped forward, almost into his personal space, but distance still between them. "Because you never let another solider die." The words came out strong with power behind them. "I would have done it for any solider, I've done it before. I stand with my brothers and my sisters and that will never change." The firmness continued. Before a smile finally broke on her freckled face. "Plus I see something in you Frank and I haven't decided yet whether I like it or not." He loved the way his name rolled of her tongue, husky and soft, her voice was enough to weaken a man to his knees. Stepping forward she placed a soft hand on his arm and gave it a pat. "Thanks for saving me Frank, and for the shirt, think I'll keep it, and see you around." And like that the redhead was gone, out the door before even Frank was able to say a word. The whirlwind that had entered his life had disappeared leaving a glass and memories of her voice with him,