Frank watched, his eyes barely open as he heard her whimper, she was crying. He wondered what was going on in that poor head of her's to create such a response. He sat at the edge of the bed and looked down on her, his eyes were crystal clear, the colour of a blue sky on a clear day, as they took in her sleeping visage. His hand moved from resting on his thigh to brush her cheek as he looked at her prone body.
"Frank, please..." she said and he looked at her, raising an eyebrow. A smile played on his lips as the hard exterior of Frank Castle cracked. He wasn't the Punisher right now, and she wasn't Vendetta, but he had no idea what he'd call her other than Ven, she had never actually told him her real name.
"Sh..." he whispered to her as he brushed her cheek with a warm hand, looking down into her eyes as the lids fluttered open and close. "Ven, it's okay, I'm right here..." he said, as if trying to calm a child. He watched her eyes as they opened and looked back at him, their jade surface reflective and receptive, not cold or unwelcoming.
"You're alive," she said, her breath soft, her words softer. How could this be? She thought to herself as she blinked, watching him. He wasn't dead, which meant it was just a dream. The Punisher was still alive, and the pair of them, and their rivalry, could live as well.
She wanted to hug him; wrap her arms around his body and burry her face against his shoulder, but she knew better than to try that. What had gone on to this point was enough to put a stress on the professional side of what ever most people would call their relationship, but if she were to show actual emotion for him, that would add a whole new dimension to it.
"Yeah, I am," he said, smirking a little as he looked down at her nearly naked form. "And you're in my boxers." He watched her body, the magnificent body. It screamed "touch me" to him, her curves, the smooth skin, every thing; but he resisted. He couldn't let himself slip into that, fall into that trap. He was stronger than that.
Vendetta shook her head. "I thought... I thought you were dead," she said, still in shock from his return. "I guess you want to lay down... I'll go..." she spoke in broken words, knowing that he'd probably want to sleep in his own bed, after all, this was his place.
She slid over to the other side, preparing to crawl out from the bed. She would get herself redressed and then find a cheap motel for the night, preferably a place that accepted cash with out question. She felt his warm hand slip from her face, moving to rest on her wrist.
"You don't have to leave," he said, slipping into the other side of the bed. "We're grown adults, I'm sure we can get along long enough to share a bed." Frank smiled at her, and surprisingly enough, she smiled back. Something had changed, for both of them, and maybe it was for the better.
Vendetta settled into her side of the bed as she sighed, slipping easily back into her sleep, this time, a dreamless sleep as Frank laid on his back, staring up at the ceiling, wondering what would happen next. It seemed that the dynamic between the two Punishers was always changing, some days they would be close, almost to the point of making Frank think he could just lean in and kiss her, other days... Well, other days Frank was closer to shooting her and leaving the young woman for dead. He was sure she had the same feelings, but then again, he was also sure that she would be happy to think of him as dead, which has proven to be a false thought.
Soon enough, sleep claimed Castle as well, and as the sun rose above the city, the two vigilantes slept, as the city that they so jealously protected awoken to find itself once again with two Punishers, ready to punish the guilty, and carry out a vendetta on those who have done wrong.