(This was a prompt in my ask box, but it's a little bit detailed and I don't want to spoil the story, so the prompt is at the end)
Matt sniffed him out before he heard him. Normally that would have been some kind of indictment against a person's hygiene, but Frank always smelled like coffee and gunpowder and something undefinable that Matt had long ago labeled murderous intent. And while it was a bit of a unique combination, (not as unique as Matt would have liked, in a city fully of supposedly unarmed civilians) Matt was only certain it was Frank when the incredibly familiar notes of Karen's floral shampoo peeked through the scentscape. Matt set his jaw, ready for an argument. It was Frank alright.
Stopping next to a softly buzzing street lamp, Matt waited. If the hulking asshole wanted to talk to him, he'd have to come out of the shadows. They weren't on the best of terms, especially not after tonight. His bruises and cuts had just begun to really hurt, his adrenaline finally fading away and leaving him with the real pain, and all he wanted to do was go home and soak in a hot bath.
But Frank wasn't ignorant of Matt's abilities, and instead of coming out in the open to talk to him, he whispered from the shadows. "Red, what the hell happened back there? Where's Karen?"
Sighing, Matt turned on his heel and stomped into the alley. "What do you think happened Frank? She got hurt, and she's where she needs to be. At the fucking hospital. What did you expect?"
They stood squared off now, feet planted in wide stances, standing like two roosters ready to fight in the dark alley. Matt tensed, preparing for Frank's unusually fast reflexes. He really didn't feel like adding any more bruises to his collection tonight.
But suddenly Frank's shoulders dropped, aggression draining out of him, and he turned away from Matt to contemplate the cracks in the wall beside them. "She's okay though?"
"She's alive." Matt's answer was flat, intentionally devoid of emotion, but Frank flinched at the implication that while Karen was alive, she clearly wasn't okay. Matt reluctantly let go of the animosity fueling him. Seeing Frank's humanity was quickly becoming something that he hated. It made all of this so much harder. He softened his voice to say, "She's not really hurt badly, just a few bruises and scrapes, but there's something else…"
Frank's head snapped around, and Matt could hear his heart thundering in his chest, the blood whooshing through his veins, the near inaudible sound of Frank swallowing before he asked, "Something else?"
"I honestly don't know, Frank. They wouldn't let her leave, and she seems to know why, but she wouldn't tell me. They have to do some apparently run-of-the-mill procedure, but… She's very close-mouthed about it all. She wouldn't even talk to me when I went to visit. Claire told me that much, and I basically had to drag it out of her."
"The nurse?"
"Yeah…" Matt could already sense it, the question that was about to spill from Frank's lips, and he ground his teeth in frustration. Karen insisted on throwing her lot in with the punisher. It pained him, but there didn't seem to be any way for him to keep her from self-destruction. "I'll call her, and see if she can sneak you in later. You'll have to get yourself to the rooftop."
Frank nodded, and without a word took off jogging into the night. Matt snorted bitterly, "Yeah, sure buddy, just nod. Don't bother saying thank you to the blind guy that just did you a favor… asshole."
Frank could still see it, the way she crumpled into the fetal position, a strangled cry of pain. His blood had run cold, like ice slogging through his heart, and he'd been frozen, wondering why the hell he hadn't heard the shot, sick with the feeling he'd failed again.
They'd been running, lungs burning from the exertion as their feet pounded the pavement. It was an ambush, one of Karen's leads going sour. Long ago, she'd agreed to take him along on her investigative forays, as long as he provided leads and kept a steady hand on the handle of his gun.
He'd gone three huge strides before he heard her fall, and she was a good ten feet behind him, just long enough for a masked asshole to descend upon her. The man had dragged her up off the ground, one arm around the smooth column of her throat, his other hand fisting the hair behind her head. There was no blood, no bloom of crimson agains the silk of her blouse, and the sight of her face, twisted in pain but clearly alive, had rocketed him out of his inaction.
But it hadn't been Frank that saved her. The rest of the group had descended upon him in a swarm. He'd shot and shot, one asshole after another dropping like flies on the dark dirty pavement, all the while her captor was dragging her further and further away.
Then the street lamps all shut off at once, a line cut, a breaker thrown, Frank had no idea, but he was grateful because when the lights had come back up, there were a dozen masked thugs laying on the ground, groaning in pain.
He'd watched the devil take his angel, and quickly dispatched the men on the ground, one bullet each. No muss, no fuss. Chasing after the stragglers and executing them, he set off to find Matt, his heart in his throat.
Claire told Matt "no," then she told him "no way" and finally she said "absolutely not." Sometimes she wondered if maybe he was deaf too, or maybe it was just the wind whistling between his ears where his brain should have been.
"I'm on thin ice here already, and you want me to invite a murderer into the hospital so he can see his sweetheart?"
Matt bristled at her wording, but made an effort to push past it. "Listen Claire… It's sick and twisted, sure, but you know Frank. If you don't let him in, you'll find a guard tied up naked in a stairwell somewhere, and he'll get in anyway." He ran his hands through his hair in frustration, moving down to wipe the exhaustion off his face. He sighed, "He cares about her, whatever that means for him, and she asked me to find him."
The last part was true. He wished it wasn't, but the only thing that Karen had said to Matt in the hospital was, "Is he okay? Make sure he's okay." He'd nodded grimly in response, no intention whatsoever of going after the prick. He didn't like lying to Karen, but Frank was bad news, and he knew that even if Karen didn't.
Something had snapped though, talking to Frank in the alley. Matt was so tired, so fucking tired, of trying to protect someone who didn't want it, of trying to be the voice of reason when she was so blindingly passionate about the wrong things. And she was wrong… Frank might have been a good man once, but he was something else entirely now.
Claire looked at him in that all too familiar way, like she wanted wring his neck and kiss him at the same time. He was making her life… complicated again, and she was simultaneously angry and intrigued. She didn't deserve this push and pull. He tried so hard to stay away, but everything in the world seemed to be conspiring against him. He waited. "Claire?"
"Oh, damn it, fine, fine." She threw her hands up in defeat. "When?"
"Uh… right now? He's probably already waiting on the roof."
She shook her head. "You vigilantes, playing by your own rules. You don't care who gets caught in the crossfire of your bullshit." She didn't sound mad, just resigned.
He took a step toward her, hand out in supplication. "Claire–"
"Go home, Matt, get some rest. Ice that shoulder you're holding so gently. I'll play matchmaker for the murderer."
The quiet was strange to Karen, interrupted only by the consistent beep of her roommate's heart monitor and the soft hiss of his life support. Mr. Patel was in a coma, a long term patient waiting to be moved to a care facility. She hated how it was never truly dark in hospitals, the bright white light from the hallway forcing it's way under the door, making the room glow, all the little lights on the machines blinking silently even when she closed her eyes.
The cramping hadn't stopped, for a while it had even gotten worse, but then Claire, blessed Claire, had brought her pain medication, a little white pill that made her feel like she was wrapped in gauze, everything far away, the cramps a just a nuisance.
She shouldn't be here really. She could have come back tomorrow, gotten the procedure done then, and went back home and curled up with a hot water bottle and a handful of pain meds. But Claire had insisted, silently rolling her into this room, into an unused corner everyone had forgotten about. They'd get to her first thing in the morning, and then she'd have the rest of the day to contemplate the bizarre reality she's found herself in.
The light at the bottom of the door flickered, catching Karen's wandering attention. When the handle began to move, Karen felt her heartbeat pickup, fear slithering through her unexpectedly.
He slipped through the door silently. Karen relaxed her grip on the sheets, sigh of relief passing through her lips, turning into an unexpected giggle.
She'd never seen him dressed so strangely, mint green scrubs and white sneakers, a doctor's mask covering his face conveniently. She swallowed the laughter, he heart doing strange little flips in her chest.
He stepped toward the bed, unsure of what he wanted to say. "Karen—"
She shook her head, instead beckoning him. "Come here. Please, Frank. I just… Will you hold me?"
Softly, he slipped under the thin hospital blanket, leaving his borrowed shoes lying on the floor. She felt small, unusually fragile in his arms. Unused to her this way, he skimmed his fingers along the trembling lines of her back, wishing he could cut through the tension and ask what was wrong. He was too afraid of the answer.
Normally when they were in bed together it was a tangle of sweaty limbs and eager lips, or they were both sprawled and unconsciously fighting for the covers. This fragility was new, and she wasn't the only one who felt like spun glass. One word, that was all it would take, and he'd shatter into a million pieces.
"Frank, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen."
Confused, he held her closer, breathing in the scent of her hair before asking, "Karen, what's wrong?" Fear clutched at him, trapping the air in his lungs.
"They're going to do a D&C tomorrow."
He quietly waited for her to elaborate. Her words were strangely familiar, but felt too far away from him to catch hold, something long forgotten, something from his previous life.
"I didn't know I was pregnant, i—" She caught herself. "Well, I suppose I still am… There's no… I mean, my body just isn't cooperating. I'm stuck in limbo."
"You had a miscarriage?" He knew this was all somehow familiar, the pieces clicking into place as she shuddered against him, crying. "Shhh, shhh."
He kissed her gently, resting for a second at her hair line, the smooth skin of her forehead cool against his lips. He could feel her hurt, her confusion at the unexpected emotions, it seeped through her limbs and into him. She whimpered an apology again.
"Don't say you're sorry. It's not…" He wanted to tell her it wasn't her fault, and that's when it hit him, just who was responsible for her pain. Matt was right, Frank didn't deserve the affection that Karen poured down over him. He'd done it again, failed to protect the person who held a piece of his soul… failed to protect… He consciously pulled back from the thought. Thinking that way would send him spiraling.
His hand crept down between them, palm resting flat against her stomach. "Is it still…" He couldn't ask. "Does it hurt?"
She nodded. "I don't know why… I don't understand why I feel like I've lost something. I didn't even know I had it. I should be relieved, right? But I'm not, at all. I didn't know I wanted this…" She trailed off, leaving unspoken the knowledge that it doesn't matter if she wants it, this is not a reality she can have with him.
Frank swallowed, a sick feeling of fear shooting through him. She deserved more than this, more than constant fear and longing for things she'd never get. He held her tighter, running his hands in soothing circles on her lower back, hoping to ease the pain she was still in. He would stay the night, catch her tears on his shoulder, let her hold him to her in the darkness. But in the morning he had to let her go, let her find this life she deserves, craves, needs... with someone who can really give it to her.
He couldn't help but think, In another life…. No, that was stupid. In another life his family would have been alive. In another life, he'd never have met Karen. He's only got the one life. He'd be gone in the morning.
Anon Prompt: Angsty/Sad Kastle prompt because apparently I like to torture myself: Karen gets hurt somehow, while in the hospital she finds out she lost their baby, but she had no idea she was even pregnant, she has to also break the news to Frank.