Chapter 7
The last time Frank Castle was in her apartment he was a fugitive with his hands above his head. It's important to note that Karen was also pointing a gun at him.
Now, fast forward: different apartment, different scenario. He carefully shuts the door to her bedroom leaving Sky to rest in silence. He's gentle and careful not to let the door crash. Sky still hasn't woken up from her ordeal and Karen is starting to worry. Frank still hasn't told her anything and she's starting to pick nervously at everything. When was the last time she ate? Slept?
She pulls her hair back into a low bun just to avoid having to deal with it. When Frank enters her small, white tiled and dark kitchen she is eating peanut butter on crackers. The kitchen itself is so painfully generic in its grimy white cupboards and greasy oven that the only thing that makes it look like it's lived in are the bananas on the countertop and Karen Page, in all her disheveled and yet beautiful glory. Suddenly awkward, mostly because she was eating nervously, she looks at him. "Do you want anything to eat?"
He just shakes his head and sits at her small kitchen table from the 70s. "No thank you Ma'am."
Getting a glass of water she sits down across from him, the painted wood hard on her back. "Why do you always call me Ma'am?"
Looking at him over the brim of her glass she watches his response. In return he studies her like she asked the most absurd question ever. "Ma'am is just respectful. It's what we say in the Corps."
She can't help but smile, the dim light making it look especially bright. "I think we're past the formal titles."
Only after the words exit her mouth does she realize how weighted that sentence was. Frank picks up on it, running a hand through his short hair. He sits back in his chair. "Not since you said you didn't want anything to do with me."
And there it was.
Karen puts down her glass, too afraid to meet his exposed gaze. She feels suddenly naked, although she has nothing to apologize for. Yet, there is no one that can look at her and see straight to her core...and not judge her. She feels like a monster wearing the skin of a cheerleader. When he looks at her, it's not that he doesn't see the monster; he just cares about her in spite of it. Maybe even because of it, because who else would understand the same darkness that lives beneath his own beating heart?
"That was a different time." Indeed it seemed like ages ago. A lifetime ago. She picks at the worn tablecloth with daisies embroidered around the edges.
He stares out the window to the small courtyard beneath her apartment. His strong jaw works as his sharp eyes scan the world beyond. "Maybe." He says. Finally, after a moment of silence, he looks back at her, "I thought I'd never see you again."
She fights the heat that creeps up her neck. "I didn't expect to end up here, that's for sure." She laughs softly.
His examining gaze is almost unbearable before he speaks again. "You and that lawyer ever get together?"
His voice is casual and deep but Karen knows what he's really thinking about. Her eyebrow arches. She could play this one of a few ways, but it must have been the lack of sleep that made her blurt out the first thing that came to mind. "I remember that night, you know? When you insisted on taking me to that diner as bait and then gave me a lengthy speech. Then you beat the guy to death and continued on reaping justice. It was pretty unforgettable." The silence is heavy for a moment. "And no, I don't really see him as much anymore." Not after he pulled that damned mask out of that damned bag. Karen had tried to reconcile so much, but had found too much comfort in her job at the Bulletin to go back to that.
The light of the orange streetlights below steeps into the room, cut into ribbons by the blinds, and plays tricks with Frank's face. It makes his shoulders look bigger, his eyes darker. Karen admires him, at how handsome he is, especially now that the swelling is down and the bruises are gone. The eyes are deep without their usual ornaments of bruising in shades between black, yellow and green. Those cheekbones and sharp jaw, the heavy brows and the lips that rarely curve a smile, but when they do they can really take your breath away.
She can't help but stare a little too long.
"I burned it to the ground," he says suddenly, "After you left."
Karen runs a hand down her face and pushes a fist into her lips to keep from saying anything too rash. Although he doesn't say it, she knows what he is talking about. His family's home, the one Karen broke into to find a photo of his family. The photo she then tortured him with on their first meeting. "I'm sorry."
"I needed to move on," his voice is tight and monotone.
"I hope you found peace," she says, emotion thick in the air.
Their eyes meet across the table. They both know there is no peace for people like them.
He takes a deep breath, fortifying himself. "You brought me back to the light. I had almost lost my mind, think I did for a little while," he shakes his head and looks down, "Then you showed me that picture, and you knew. You knew you were poking the bear in the ass but you didn't care." He meets her gaze again. "Fearless."
There was no denying that there was something else in the room besides just the two of them. What was left unsaid almost spoke louder than what was said. Like a third person looming over them, the humidity of the evening became unbearable. Frank still wore his leather jacket but he took off his punisher vest and so was only Frank in that moment, not the Punisher.
Karen almost can't believe that they are the same person; no matter how she's seen him beat a man to death or clear a rooftop from a hundred yards away. He's too gentle to be the hardened killer, too caring and too deeply emotional. Dammit, he basically adopted a young teen because she was in trouble.
Although Karen also kind of adopted Sky, she took her in when Sky needed it. She and Frank Castle were never really that different, despite what Karen had come to believe.
She stands abruptly and goes to the sink. She runs the cold water for a moment, her pinky finger testing the water before she fills her glass again and drinks. After that she doesn't turn around, even when she hears the scrap of his chair on the linoleum. "Would you like coffee? Or do you want to go, because I can take care of Sky until the morning-"
When she turns around he is only a foot away. He moved so quickly, so quietly. This must be the closest they've ever been to each other without some kind of life-threatening thing forcing them together. She looks up into his eyes and carefully puts the glass down.
We're at war and all I can think of is him.
Warmth radiates off of him. He seems so unassuming, which is hilarious considering how much taller and bigger his is, not to mention his status as the Punisher. However, Karen realizes how foolish it was to ever worry that he would hurt her.
You were never in danger, you were safe.
His own words echo through her mind as he gazes at her.
"If I wasn't so afraid of offending you, I'd kiss you right now." His voice is as raw and rough as his gaze.
His words make her heart beat frantically. She bites her lip. You could cut the desire in the room with a butter knife. "I thought you'd never ask."
She grabs him by the lapels of his jacket and brings him down to her anxious lips. When they meet, its months of desire and restraint, and fever like nothing Karen had ever felt.
His lips are surprisingly soft as they meet Karen's. He bends down to compensate for the height difference, enveloping her. She barely registers that he tastes like gunpowder and burnt sugar.
She feels his strong arms wrap around her waist and pull her close as he tilts his head and kisses her back, fever taking him too. It's like nothing ever before, dangerous and sweet, gentle but passionate.
His lips find hers again as he lifts her onto the counter and she wraps her hands around the back of his neck pulling her to him, trying to get closer, always closer, until they merge into a singular person. If it was possible she would have devoured him then and there, and happily have died in the ecstasy.
Hooking her legs around him, she pulls him ever closer, her skirt hiking up. He gently unleashes her hair as it tumbles down her back and he plays with those sensitive hairs at the back of her neck. She comes up for air and finds herself breathing heavily as he plants soft kisses down her neck. She runs her hands through his hair as she kisses her way down to his lips.
The fever was all consuming, she thought she may burn alive as his big hands trail her body, making her back arch in pleasure. She runs her hands over him, letting all those stolen thoughts and heavy looks devour her. The time he saved her, shielding her with his own body. She says all this with her touch as her soft hands trace his jaw and touch the rough stubble of his cheeks.
When he kisses her; he knows it is more than just that fire and desire. She feels it too, that deeper meaning as he presses his lips to hers again, and again, making her toes curl. Their lips part and the kiss deepens until there is nothing but the smell of him and the taste of him surrounding her.
She moans softly as he kisses her neck, and his hands drift lower down her back. He runs his fingers through her hair, soft as silk, and finds her lips again. It's urgent and passionate, like he had only just come awake with life and had been lost so long before it. To him, she tastes like flowers and a little like peanuts, only making him burn like fire.
She drinks him in like a dying woman. Nothing else exists, only the burning in her veins and him.
In the moment of fever she almost doesn't hear it, and he nearly misses it himself.
Panting she pulls away, "Frank," but his name on her lips just pulls them back into the fire, how lusty and breathless she sounds, Frank could barely contain himself. She has to break away and hold his face, their eyes meeting for him to finally hear it too.
He looks at the door and quickly drops Karen behind him. He soon realizes his vest is off but there isn't time to put it back on. So, he quickly grabs his shotgun, and checks that it's loaded.
Just in time.
The door is kicked down a second later and guys in ski masks enter her apartment, the still space suddenly erupting in noise. Frank fires off two shots in quick succession, dropping two. Karen has a moment of clarity and bolts for the kitchen table. She has seconds to get to the kitchen chair where her purse and gun await. She turns just in time to get off a shot into the third guy and drop him as Frank reloads.
No one else comes through the door, though.
Immediately Karen looks around at the carnage, fear and a need for action making her anxious (not the least of which is fueled by her adrenaline and the burning feeling still left behind where Frank kissed her). In a high voice she stutters, "They know you're here, we need to get you out." The gun shots still ring in her ears.
Karen's bedroom door opens and out comes a drowsy Sky in some of Karen's borrowed clothes. After Karen had cleaned some of the blood off of her she put her in an old grey t-shirt and sleep-pants with bright yellow hearts on them...which now look completely out of place next to the massacre in her living room. She surveys the dead bodies slowly, and then looks up at Karen and Frank. Both of them are disheveled but Karen especially so, with her blouse open, skirt hiked up and hair askew. Finally meeting their eyes, a frown creases her brow. "What did I miss?"
