While Billy Russo began crossing half the country, Andy and his friends were still gathering evidence to prove Frank's innocence, while Nica left for some private business.

"Let's start with the truth Frank." Matt declared, looking at the Punisher. "Did you kill Russo's mother?"

"I didn't." Frank muttered. As Matt cocked his head to the side, Frank continued, "You know that."

"Okay. You're telling the truth." Matt decided.

"How do you know?" Alice asked.

"His enhanced hearing allows him to hear someone's heartbeat." Karen explained. "He can tell if someone is lying if their heart rate increases."

"Shouldn't this shit be easy?" Castle grumbled. "How'd you do this last time?"

"Last time, Karen dug up your history." Murdock reminded Frank.

"Great, so we can just use that again, right?" Alice suggested.

"That helps, but we'll still need solid proof Castle didn't kill Russo's mother." Andy said. Just then, Chucky materialized next to Andy, grinning like a madman.

"Maybe I can help." Chucky smirked. "Who do you know could figure out if there was footage at that nursing home?"

"Cameras." Andy blurted out. "Frank, think you can call up David?"

"I'll try it in the morning." Castle mumbled. As Frank finished speaking, Nica walked back inside.

"Hey, I brought one of our new friends." Nica casually announced. Andy looked behind his wife, seeing Jessica Jones had joined their little party.

"Got any whiskey, Barclay-" Jessica stopped mid sentence, dropping her camera. Everyone followed her gaze, which had apparently landed on Matt.

"Hi, Jessica." Murdock said quietly. Instead of saying anything back, Jessica stormed over and pushed Matt into a wall.

"You son of a bitch." Jessica spat, grabbing Matt by the shoulders and shaking him. "You asshole. Why didn't you tell us?"

"I don't know." Matt whispered, but Jones didn't take that as a good enough answer.

"We all thought you were dead!" Jessica yelled, punching the wall right next to Matt. "Do you even know what's been going on since Midland Circle?"

"Jones, stop!" Frank commanded. "I pulled Red out of the building. I dropped him off at a convent so some nuns could care for him without asking questions. I didn't tell anyone because it wasn't my secret to tell."

"But ever since Matt 'died', New York has gone to Hell!" Jessica shouted. "My mother came back, Luke's taken over Mariah's old territory, and Rand is running around acting like the new Devil of Hell's Kitchen!"

"Jessica, listen." Matt finally spoke. "I'm sorry. I really am. I wish I visited you all sooner, but I didn't. That's on me. But right now, we need to focus on a bigger issue."

"Yeah, I heard. Castle's on trial, again." Jessica shrugged and sat on the couch next to Karen. "But what do you need me for?"

"Now that you mention it, we could use you to see what Russo is up to." Andy suggested. "I have a feeling killing his mother was more than just framing Frank."

"I'll see what I can do." Jessica promised, and as she got up, she glared at Matt. "I won't tell Luke or Danny. I'll leave that for you." With that, Jones left, slamming the door behind her.

"Shit, we'll have to fix that wall now." Alice complained, staring at the hole next to Matt's head.

"Another day." Nica replied. "Right now, we gotta think of what else we can do to help Frank. Right Andy?" If Andy heard her, he didn't answer. Instead, he was just staring at the wall.

"Andy?" Alice called out. Still, nothing.

"Andy!" Nica shouted, causing Barclay to jump. "Are you still seeing Chucky?"

"Yep." Andy sighed. "Look, I just need to get outside for a minute, okay?" Andy stood up and left, with Frank silently following him out the apartment and into the street.

"One of these days, you're gonna sneak up on the wrong guy and they'll shoot you." Andy muttered, somehow knowing Frank was behind him.

"Well, they'd better not miss." Castle chuckled. "Look, I don't think I can understand how deep your trauma goes-"

"No, you can't." Andy snapped, refusing to face Castle. "I know what happened to your family, Frank. I know that you, me, and Russo had to go through the same shit in Kandahar. But you don't know how far this goes. That fucking doll was in my head for almost thirty years. Thirty fucking years! That's almost as old as I've lived! I had my childhood ripped from me, Frank! Do you have any idea what that's like, to be just a kid, and to get shoved head first in this shit?"

"No, I don't-" Frank was trying to say, but Andy wasn't done.

"Exactly." Barclay interrupted. "I finally killed that piece of shit earlier this year. I thought I'd be done with it. I moved here, to get away from Chicago, and I have a wife, a decent home, a job that I like, and great friends. But now, Chucky's in my head again, even after death." Frank grimaced, taking in everything his old friend just said.

"I was going to say that I don't know how that is, but I know a few who do- oof!" Andy finally turned around, seeing a man in a green hoodie and yellow cloth over his mouth appear out of nowhere and attack Frank.

"What the f-" Frank tried to say, but the man did a somersault in the air and kicked him down.

"Hey!" Andy ran over and grabbed the man's arm before he could punch Frank, giving Castle enough time to get back up and deliver a right hook at the masked man's jaw. The man in the mask responded by headbutting Barclay and uppercutting Frank, and as the two were about to get up, they noticed the man's right hand began to glow.

"Shit." Frank muttered. "That can't be good." Thinking quickly, Andy rolled as the man brought his fist down, causing the ground to shake, but otherwise, not harming him. Barclay jumped back up and tackled the man, causing his fist to stop glowing, and ripped off the mask and hood, mildly surprised with what he saw.

"I'll be damned." Andy mumbled. "Danny Rand."

"You know me?" Rand asked, getting up.

"Who doesn't, billionaire boy?" Frank muttered, picking himself up off the ground. "Now we know what Jessica meant by you playing Devil."

"You've met Jessica?" Danny frowned.

"Yeah, we both have." Andy answered. "She gave me about the same warm welcome as you have. What the Hell are you doing here?"

"I heard that Frank Castle is back to killing people as the Punisher." Rand pointed accusingly at Frank.

"Oh, Jesus." Castle exasperatedly threw his hands in the air. "Does everyone think I killed Billy Russo's mother?"

"I guess so." Danny replied. "Sorry."

"What was that thing with the glowing hand?" Andy asked.

"I'm the immortal Iron Fist." Rand said, without missing a beat.

"Sounds like a sex toy." Andy chuckled.

"Didn't you see my hand?" Danny asked.

"Hey, never said I didn't believe you." Andy quickly replied.

"He'd probably believe you anyway." Frank shrugged. "He's had trouble with mystical shit before."

"Voodoo, to be exact." Andy told Castle.

"Whatever. I'm just trying to prove that you're not the only one who's had shit thrown your way." Frank continued. "Take Rand, for instance. His family died in a plane crash when he was ten, and he was stranded in the mountains."

"Yeah, and if his story is right, he also got visit a magical place that gave him that glowing hand." Andy pointed out.

"That's not fair." Danny complained. "It's not like becoming the Iron Fist brought my parents back."

"Either way…" Andy trailed off, and Frank continued speaking.

"Or Red." Frank added. "From what I read about him, he was blinded when he was nine. Then, sometime later, his father got killed for doing the right thing."

"Or Jessica." Rand spoke up. "I looked up everyone else, and she got in a car crash when she was fourteen. Her parents died, while she survived."

"What's the point in all this?" Andy asked.

"The point is that you shouldn't be a mopy dick." Frank said harshly. "So your favorite toy turned out to be a monster. Boo hoo. Doesn't mean you have to cling to that shit your whole life."

"I'm not trying to." Andy insisted. "I just don't know how to let go."

"Ever tried meditating?" Danny suggested.

"Never done that shit." Frank informed. "But Andy could use it…"

"Worth a shot." Andy reasoned. "C'mon, there's someone you should see back at my place anyway…"

Chicago

Billy Russo walked down the streets of Chicago, eventually finding the right apartment building. Sighing in anticipation, Russo rang the bell, hearing someone on the other end.

"What the fuck do you want?" a grouchy voice asked, cracking the door open a bit.

"I'm looking for a place to stay." Billy lied. The man stared at Russo, more specifically, at his scars.

"We don't have a vacancy." the old man claimed, but as he was about to shut the door, Billy wedged his foot in the crack.

"Listen, I need to speak with one of your tenants." Russo cut to the point. "Mark Ellis. He still lives here, right?"

"Yeah, what's it to you?" the old man asked.

"I just need to speak to him. It's urgent." Billy pretended to beg. The old man looked at him closely, before shaking his head.

"Fine. Ya got fifteen minutes, then you're out." the old man led Billy to one of the apartments, labeled with the number three.

"Thanks, I really appreciate it." Billy knocked on the door three times, until a man looking ten years older and having a blonde buzz cut opened the door.

"Who the fuck is it?" the man growled, cautiously pulling a bowie knife out of his back pocket.

"My name is Billy Russo." Billy introduced himself. "I knew one of your classmates at Kent Academy. Andy Barclay, wasn't it?"

"If you're a friend of his, get the fuck out." The man groused, sitting in a chair and began drinking a beer.

"Don't worry, I'm not a friend." Billy reassured. "I assure you, Mister Ellis, I am trying to help you avenge the death of your friend, Brett Shelton."

"How do you know about that?" Ellis demanded, drawing a pistol.

"I'll explain everything to you, if you come with me to New York." Billy promised, holding out his hand. Ellis thought over his options, and eventually, he made the decision to take his chances.

"Deal." Ellis smirked, shaking Russo's hand.

"Terrific." Billy smiled, and pulled out his phone. "Fisk, Ellis agreed. We're on our way back now."

"Good work, Russo." Wilson Fisk said on the other end. "I contacted my assassin just as you left. He should be here by the time you arrive."

Denver

Three Hours Ago

"Hey Lester, bar's closing!" the bartender yelled. The older man was clearly sleep deprived, and was showing a beer gut. "Get your ass out!"

"My name-" Lester spoke in a thick english accent, turning around sharply. All he had wanted to do was play darts while he was drunk, and the bartender wouldn't leave him alone. Without even looking, Lester threw the dart behind him, hitting the dart board at the center, with deadly accuracy. "-is Bullseye."

"I don't give a shit what you call yourself!" the bartender shouted. "Get the Hell out!" Without saying a word, Lester walked over to the dart board and pulled out the dart, turning around and throwing the projectile at the bartender. Shocked, the older man didn't have the time to register what was happening, as the tiny dart lodged itself in his left eye and puncturing his skull, killing him without so much a scream.

"Asshole." Lester muttered, and suddenly pulled out his phone, feeling the vibration in his pocket. "Who is it?"

"An old friend of yours, Bullseye." Wilson Fisk's commanding voice was heard on the other end. "I have a new… job for you."

"Last I checked, you got your ass handed to you by the Devil of Hell's Kitchen." Bullseye chuckled.

"Not to worry, I'll be out of Ryker's soon enough." Fisk promised. "But I need you to go to New York. An associate of mine, Billy Russo, will come looking for you." The phone was hung up from Fisk's end, and Bullseye grinned.

"Guess I'm back in business." Bullseye took of the black ski cap he was wearing, revealing a target shaped circle on his forehead, with a single dot in the center.

Hours later, Bullseye exited the JFK International Airport, seeing two men walk towards him. One had blonde hair, with a military buzzcut, and the other had scars all along his face.

"Bullseye?" the scarred man ask.

"That's my name." Bullseye smirked with pride. "I'm presuming you're Fisk's associate?"

"Something like that." Billy Russo smiled, offering his hand in a gesture of a partnership. "Let's talk business." Gingerly, Bullseye reached his arm out and grabbed Russo's hand.

"Let's."