Alison's POV
(bellamysgirl)

I inhaled the smell of vanilla scented candles as I readjusted my position on the wooden pew. Father Lantom was giving a speech about something but I wasn't paying attention. My eyes were stuck on the silver canister holding Grotto's ashes while I zoned out a little. I replayed what happened that night at the warehouse. All the things that went wrong. I could've acted sooner. But what would that have done? What could I have done, honestly?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. So why do I feel so guilty? A squeeze of my hand caught my attention and I snapped back to reality, turning my head to look at Matt. He was sitting directly to my right. The whole service, he held my hand for support and I practically clung to his arm for stability. "Service is over," he said, causing me to look up. Father Lantom seemed to have just finished. I nodded and Matt sighed. "You okay?"

"How would I be okay with any of this?" I ask, rhetorically.

He nodded in understanding and I dropped his hand to stand. Karen stood from the other side of Matt and walked over to me. She held out her arms and I walked into them, returning her hug. "Hang in there, okay?" she said, quietly. "If you wanna talk…if you need someone, I'm here."

I stepped back and gave the biggest smile I could manage—and it was pretty small. "Thank you, Karen. Same here." She nodded once and started making her way to the exit. Foggy stood and I turned back to Matt. He stood and turned to face me. "Can I ask you something?" he asked, lightly.

I nodded once. "Sure."

"On the roof, when we fought the Dogs of Hell…Dani said you wanted her not to hurt The Punisher," he recalled. I quickly twisted to see behind me. Foggy had moved toward the front of the church and was now talking to Karen by the door. I turned back to Matt just as he continued. "I know Dani wasn't lying. Knowing firsthand what we're dealing with, why would you ask her not to do that?"

He didn't sound angry or anything—and for that I was thankful—he just seemed genuinely curious. Either way I play this he'll be suspicious. So I'll just tell the truth. Well, most of it. "The man is obviously troubled. After what happened to him, he needs more help than just a boot to the face," I explained, calmly. "What kind of people would we be if we just threw him in jail and ignored that?"

"But you disagree with his methods, don't you?" he asked, obviously seeking reaffirmation.

I sighed, nodding. "The killing, I could do without, yeah."

"I thought so. I just…this whole thing's got me rethinking what side we're all on, you know?" he vented, exhaling, like it'd been a weight lifted from his shoulders. He paused a moment, thinking. Then he looked up at me with a closed-mouthed smile and held out his elbow. "Walk you out?"

"Alright, I guess I can let it slide this once," I nodded, hooking my arm with his.

Even in the dreary mood of the morning he still managed to crack a bit of a chuckle. We went outside along with Foggy and Karen. I had to lie and say I was going to get things for the Café and I wouldn't be able to take passengers, just to make sure no one could carpool. In all honesty, I wasn't going too incredibly far. But the others decided to take a cab to the office anyway so I was in the clear.

I got in my car and drove straight to an address written on a small piece of torn, folded paper in my jacket pocket. I'd never been to this particular part of Hell's Kitchen. But it wasn't that hard to find. I pulled up next to a large open alley area and cut the engine. I glanced around. I briefly wondered if this was the right place, but then I noticed that a van was parked parallel to me several yards to my right. Yep, this was the right place.

I unclipped my seatbelt and slid out, shutting my door behind me. The heat was enough already this morning to cause me not to really need to close my jacket, so I decided to leave it unzipped and just slide my hands in my pockets. I stepped around the front of the car and leaned my butt into the passenger side, near the door. Now I just wait. He said to meet him here at x time and I'm here at x time. It didn't take long for Frank to climb out of the back of the van.

He shut up the doors and turned, starting my way. "Am I late? You said nine," I called, recalling our phone conversation last night. I was able to convince Frank to at least have a burner phone so that, if need be, we could communicate without my vigilante partners finding out. He stopped a foot in front of me with an expression that was a mixture of amused and serious, his eyebrows lowered a fraction of an inch.

"You're not late," he tilted his head, suddenly a little more serious than amused. "Why the black outfit?"

I glanced down at myself. It was just a plain black shirt with a matching pleated skirt and tights. This funeral service was really just an excuse to wear my black ankle boots. My Angel jacket was the only thing not black. I looked back up at Frank, squinting a little in the sunlight. "Grotto's funeral service was this morning," I answered, lightly.

"And you went?"

"Yes, I did. Is that a problem?" I loosely crossed my arms, cocking an eyebrow. He looked like he wanted to say more. Like there were a million things he could've said, swirling around his head, but he chose not to. He gave a shake of his head, "No."

I pushed off the car. "Good. Because I don't think I could stomach getting my head bitten off a second time." I tried for a small smile, trying to make myself seem okay after this morning. Okay hasn't been in my vocabulary since James died. It wasn't even okay before that. Frank was watching me closely, reading me.

It was a bit unnerving just how observant he was. I cracked a fake and somewhat nervous sounding chuckle and gestured toward the car—mostly just to get the attention off of me. "Enough about me. You have somewhere to be," I waved it away, and immediately walked around the front of the car. "Get in, loser, we're going shopping." I pulled open my door and paused, seeing the confused look in his face.

I sighed. "It's a line from Mean Girls, it was a movie…? Look, just, never mind."

I slid into the seat, behind the wheel, and shut the door behind me. This was not going well. Get it together, Alison. Grotto's dead and it's upsetting—but this is no time to get emotional over something that could be easily categorized as ridiculous. Turning the key in the ignition I simultaneously clipped on my seatbelt. As I did, Frank slid in and shut his door. I pulled out of the decrepit alley area and started driving.

Once again, the car was silent. I couldn't tell if the silence was really welcomed. Even if I did want to talk I wouldn't know what to say. So I just kept driving and didn't bother trying. There would be plenty of talking to do once we got to our destination, anyway. Little did he know, it wasn't his apartment. "Where are we going?" Frank asked, eyes moving quickly as he looked out his window.

Inhaling, I tried not to smile. "You'll see." It was quiet a second and I took a quick glance his direction. He was eyeing me, a thoughtful expression ever present. "What are you doing, Alison?" he asked, calmly, almost not even sounding like a question.

I settled my eyes back on the road. "I told you—you'll see." He sighed through his nose in an almost annoyed way, but settled on looking back out his window, keeping it to himself. One or two more turns and we were pulling up outside of Dani's building. I knew for a fact that Dani wasn't going to be here. And, sure enough, her car was nowhere in sight. I unclipped my seatbelt and propped open my door.

"We're here—come on." Stealing his line, I slid out of the car and shut my door, then dug in my pocket for the key. I knew it was in there somewhere. Now not only was my purse a black hole where things go in but never come out, but my Angel jacket pockets are as well. Lovely. Frank got out of the car and joined me on the sidewalk. He looked at me funny and I gave an apologetic looked. "One sec," I held up a finger.

It took one more minute, but I finally managed to dig out the key to the apartment. I hummed and started to the door to the building. "Don't worry—it's safe in here," I promised, tossing the words over my shoulder. Just as I neared the door, Frank was suddenly at my side, grabbing the door handle before I could. I paused as he pulled it open, a bit taken aback. "Thank you," I smiled a little, almost in shock.

He nodded once as I passed through and followed right behind me. It was amazing to me—and a bit perplexing—that a guy who barely sleeps, is stuck on the loss of his family, and murders people would open the door for a woman. Or anyone, really. But I shook it off as we got to the stairs. Dani never really uses the third floor of the building so that's exactly where we're going. Part of me was still wondering if this was a lucrative plan.

Dani could randomly check in on the level at any time and spoil everything in the most horrendous way. But there was no way he was going to spend another night at that ratty building with the Irish gunning for him. No, this idea was much better. And for now it's free. I'll find a way to pay Dani back later. Finally, after climbing the stairs for what felt like forever and a day, we made it to the third floor.

How tall were these stupid ceilings? It was only three floors! I sighed and started down the hall. "And…" I found the door marked B9 and stopped. "Here we are." I flashed a closed-mouthed smile over my shoulder at Frank before shoving the key in the lock. With a little jerking it opened right up. I pushed through the door and flipped on the lights. All the apartments in Dani's building were fully furnished.

They were just waiting for some poor sap to want a place to rent. "Casa de Punisher," I lightly joked, turning around mid living room. I paused. Frank stood just outside with a curious look on his face. His eyes were narrowed just slightly as an eyebrow moved up. "Who owns this place?" he asked, gesturing a little with his hand.

"A friend of mine. I used to live in the dump right across the street," I answered.

"This friend…he have a name?"

Now I was narrowing my eyes suspiciously. "Dani Dylan—she's a Private Investigator." He stared at me for a long moment. Then he huffed a chuckle, looking away. "This place is owned by a Private Investigator and you want me to stay here?" he asked, rhetorically. "You think that's a good idea?" I knew how it sounded. It sounded so stupid. Yeah, sure, bring a wanted criminal to a PI building and see how long that lasts. But this was safer than he thought.

I exhaled and held up the key. "Dani's sister-in-law gave me this, okay? The Private Investigator doesn't even know you're here, and she never will—not if I have anything to say about it, anyway," I slid the key away with a grumbled sound of annoyance at the thought. "It's in a safer location that's Irish free, it has easy roof access so you don't have to use the front door, it's fully furnished, and it's closer to the Café. It's better all around."

He finally walked inside and stopped just a foot or two from me. His eyes shifted around the room a moment before darting back to mine. "It's closer to the Café, huh?"

"By a couple blocks." I nodded once, the corners of my lips threatening to tug up. I thought I was doing my best to hide it. But, if I had a mirror, I would be able to see that I probably was doing the exact opposite of a good job. I slid my hands in my pockets to keep them from doing anything stupid. Yes, last time I was alone with him we kissed. But I don't know if I should even be taking this down that road.

So I'm staying right here for as long as I can stand it. "Alright," he finally agreed. "I'll stay here."

"It's a good thing you said that, because I actually wasn't asking." This time I actually smiled. I held the key out to him and he took it. His fingers just barely brushed across my palm, and an electric feeling I can only describe as fire ants spread up my arm. I swallowed hard and put my hand right back into my pocket, regretting even taking it out. He huffed a small chuckle and shook his head, "I didn't think you were."

Dani's POV
(Nightwing27th)

"He's lucky to be alive." Karen was telling us about everything she had discovered about The Punisher, while he was trying to kill us. She was acting like she'd discovered something amazing, something no one's laid eyes on in thousands of years. While some of her info was new to me, most wasn't. But she had an x-ray for someone named Frank Castle. I guess the ADA gave her this stuff.

But, the x-ray was puzzling. It was of a skull with a bullet hole near the right temple. Now the question is how it got there and why. And why is he still alive. Of course, if this is the same Frank, that would explain his mental state. Getting shot in the head is very confusing, I'm sure. "This is all of the stuff the DA's collecting for her case," she continued.

Foggy was to my right, eyeing the x-ray. He's been giving me the cold shoulder since I arrived. I was busy with work this morning or else I would've gone to the funeral. Mainly for Matt's sake. I didn't know Grotto very much, but I know how he died. Story of my life. "And most of it's about The Punisher's victims. The Dogs of Hell, the cartel…but this was in the middle of it. Not someone he shot, him."

"He's insane," Foggy said, lowering the x-ray. "Maybe he shot himself."

"I thought about that. But, at that close of a range…"

"Yeah," I said. "If he tried to kill himself once and it failed…why didn't he try again? Plus, he seems like the guy to do, not try."

She seemed to ignore me, moving on. "Tower obviously slipped this to me for a reason." Great. Now she thinks she has to find Frank. Does she not remember what happened the last time she tried to play hero detective? A man died because she was set on putting her nose way to far up where it didn't belong. "What if The Punisher isn't the worst of it? What if Reyes is trying to cover something up?"

"You think that murderous psychopath isn't the worst of it?" Foggy asked.

"No. And, I think our best shot at protecting Nelson and Murdock, is to find him."

"It's our best shot at career suicide…" Foggy stood as the phone rang in his office. "Or just getting shot." He walked into his office and answered the phone. I glanced around. Matt didn't seem too happy with this. Not the info. No, we can use the info. He just doesn't want Karen getting too close and getting hurt. And, as much as she annoys me, I don't want her becoming a casualty of war.

"Well…" Karen said. "What do you think, Dani? Can you maybe…dig a little deeper, find something else, a part of the story that's missing?" I was slightly shocked. Mainly 'cause I'm not sure what to say. Truth be told, if I tried hard enough, I could find him. I might've even found him before he attacked the hospital, if he hadn't have found me first. Speaking of which, he knows who I am. I wonder what he'll do with that…

I shook my head and uncrossed my arms. "I'm not sure. I mean, we only have this because the ADA leaked it," I said. "But I do think there's more to this than a crazy guy running around town killing. It's obviously not random. We just have to find the pattern. But, you shouldn't get close to this, Karen. Let me look into it. It's my job to get caught in the crossfire."

"Which seems to happen a lot," she commented, looking down at the desk. I smiled, because it was nicer than slapping her. "I have," I continued, "a few friends that can help. One's a good PI, not far from here. The other works for the government. They have a lot of strings to pull, and I have a few favors to cash in on. Let me talk to them before you stick your neck out any farther."

She nodded, seeming to like the idea. "Okay," she said, running a hand through her hair. I nodded.

Alison's POV
(bellamysgirl)

With Chase and a take-out bag in hand, it was back up the three flights of stairs in Dani's building. About half way there was when Chase started talking again. He'd stopped in the car. But, I guess it was coming sooner or later. "Why are we here again?" he questioned, curiously.

"We're having dinner with a friend," I reiterated, as we reached the top of the stairs. Chase let go of my hand as we did, walking a little bit ahead of me. He was only eager to come because the take-out was from his favorite Chinese place. Last time we were there, Chase tore through at least five pairs of chopsticks trying to get it right. Let's just say he still hasn't mastered it. My stomach was in knots. I wasn't even sure if I'd be able to eat.

This could go really well or really, really bad. I was leaning more toward bad—hence the out of control nerves. I swallowed it down as best I could as we reached the right door. Mary had given me two keys when she initially told me about this place. I tried to give both to Frank earlier but he told me to keep one in case I needed in. So I dug out the spare key and shoved it in the lock. "Remember what we talked about," I said, directing it over my shoulder to Chase.

He sighed heavily, tiredly. "I know, I know. Be on my best behavior."

"And don't do anything stupid, right?"

"Right," he bobbed his head. I nodded once in response and pushed open the door to the apartment. The key was a little hard to get back out of the knob. I struggled with it a minute, but was able to pull it loose, and then slid it back into my pocket. Chase stepped in and I closed the door behind us. "Frank?" I glanced around. "You in here somewhere?" He wasn't anywhere in the main room. While I waited for a response, I took the take-out to the dining table.

It plopped onto the wood and Chase blew air through his lips in a bored way. "Stay here, alright?" I instructed, pointing at Chase as I walked past him. He nodded with a tired expression and I made my way back to the bedroom area, down a short hallway. The door was cracked by about five or six inches, so I rapped my knuckles on it twice before slowly easing it open enough for me to slip through if needed.

I took one step inside and paused. "Frank?" He suddenly stepped out of the already opened door bathroom, startling me a little. Everything would have been fine. Great, even. But he wasn't wearing a shirt—just pants, shoes, and silver dog tags—making me wish I'd stayed in the living room. My cheeks felt warm. I pointed to the dog tags as he walked toward me. "Those yours?"

He nodded once, stopping a foot from me. "Yeah. US Marine Corp."

"Nice," I nodded slowly, trying to keep my eyes above chest level—and failing. "My dad was Air Force."

"Where is he now?" he asked, curious.

"Somewhere pleasant I hope. I don't really know—he died when I was fifteen."

His features softened a bit. "Sorry to hear that."

"It was a long time ago," I waved it away, loosely folding my arms. "Anyways, diner is in the living room—waiting with Chase." He walked over to the bed a few feet my left and grabbed a wadded up shirt. "You still sure this is a good idea?" he asked, sounding mostly rhetoric. He pulled the shirt over his head and tugged the dog tags out before turning back to me with a questioning stare.

I inhaled, nodding. "If he freaks out, I'll just explain to him all the things you told me." He walked back over to his original position—a few inches closer this time—standing in front of me with a sigh. I nodded my head toward the door in a follow me gesture and started back out to the living room. When we arrived, Chase was draped across the couch, looking extremely bored. Frank stopped near the entrance to the living room but I continued around the front of the couch.

"Chase?" Chase instantly perked up, sitting up to look at me. "There's someone I want you to meet." I gestured over his shoulder and he slid off the couch before turning around. Everything in Chase seemed to go rigid in an almost deer-in-headlights state. This is not good. "MMMOOOMMMRUNNNNNN!" Chase's words slurred together in one long battle cry as he bolted for the door.

I sighed heavily and hurried after him. I wrapped my arms around his torso before he could reach the door and he swatted at me. "Chase, stop it, you're being ridiculous!" I said, pulling him back toward the couch. Ha, more like dragged. He tried grabbing at furniture to stop his backward movement, but it was to no avail. "MOMHE'SGOINGTOKILLUS!" he thrashed against me, hard.

This is just great. I huffed in frustration and set his feet on the floor. I knelt in front of him, grabbing his upper arms to make him look at me. "Cha- Chase! Stop it." He fidgeted, but I quickly got his attention, making him hold still a moment. "We're perfectly safe, okay? He won't hurt you, I promise."

"But he's the guy that shot Dani!" he pointed out, sounding angered.

I nodded. "I know. Listen to me. He didn't mean to hurt Dani that night, alright? He's not the bad guy. Just give him a chance." His bottom lip was pushed out in a lightly pouty expression with his eyebrows furrowed tightly. I could tell he was trying his hardest not to say yes. I stood and turned him to face Frank by his shoulders. "Chase, this is Frank Castle. Frank, this is my son Chase." Frank's expression was unreadable.

I couldn't quite tell what was going on in his mind. Usually it's really easy. He nodded to Chase. "It's nice to meet you. Your mom's told me a lot about you."

"She never mentioned you," Chase replied, miffed.

I sighed as my shoulder dropped, and I looked up at Frank. "He really likes Dani," I reasoned, apologetically. "Let's just sit down and see where it goes." He nodded once, then glanced down at Chase. He eyed him a minute before heading to the dining area. I nudged Chase forward and he begrudgingly came with me to the table. This was off to a rocky start but I was determined to make it work.

Chase was being downright awful, and seating arrangements were a little awkward because of it. I sat at the head whilst Frank sat just to my right and Chase to my left. It provided a whole foot and a half of space between them, but it was close enough that things could still progress. Chase ate quietly for a while. I sighed through my nose and glanced at Frank while stirring my rice. He was staring hard at Chase and Chase was staring right back defiantly.

The first fifteen minutes of dinner was pretty much just that—and only that. Finally, I decided that was enough. I sat up in my chair. "Chase-"

"Are you two dating?" Chase questioned, looking appalled, beating me to words. I inhaled sharply and, once again, my cheeks were my own personal ovens. I gave Chase a stern look. "Chase Mathew Fletcher, I will not hesitate to take you outside so we can have a really intense discussion. Is that what you want?" I asked, coolly, ignoring his question. "Because that's what's coming."

"Alison, it's fine," Frank waved it away, giving a shake of his head. I exhaled and turned to him. He looked like he expected exactly what was going on, like he'd prepared for this and therefore nothing Chase could say or do would surprise him. I expected a bad turnout as well. But a part of me was hoping that Chase would come around. "How many people have you killed? Do you keep track?" Chase asked, suddenly.

My eyes rounded and I instantly turned on him. "That is enough. You've lost your free speech privileges," I told him, sternly. "No more comments that you wouldn't say to me, understand?" He sighed and nodded, leaning back in his chair, mopey. I heard a light chuckle and looked at Frank. He looked between Chase and I. "You two are like an old married couple," he commented, obviously amused by it.

I tilted my head in an expression. "Well, usually I don't have to get mean. He's had a bad week."

"I can see that," Frank nodded, glancing at Chase.

"Why am I here?" Chase questioned, to no one in particular.

Frank inhaled. "Well, your mom wanted us to meet and smooth things over. Given how we last met, it wouldn't surprise me if you hated me for the rest of your life. For the record, though, I had no idea you or your babysitter were going to be there that night, alright? What happened, happened, and there's no changing it. But your mom wanted this, so I agreed to it. That's all that's happening here."

Chase eyed him quietly a moment. His features were slightly more relaxed, but he still looked ready to run. He raised an eyebrow curiously. "So you're just doing this because of her?" He jabbed his thumb in my direction.

Frank nodded once. "Yeah."

"Are you in love with her, or something?" I nearly spewed water across the table, as I was taking a drink when Chase said the most embarrassing thing he could have possibly dreamt up. But I quickly recovered—almost able to act like that didn't just happen. Frank chuckled. "Uh, I'm not sure I know that yet, kid," he answered.

"Well, don't get any ideas," Chase crossed his arms firmly. "I still have the final word before you get married."

"Okay, okay—time out," I held up my hands, ready for it to end. I took a deep breath. "Let's stay in the shallow end, yeah? Chase, nobody's getting married."

"Then why the formal sit down?" he threw his arms out.

"I'm not trying to get your blessing! I want you to move on after what happened," I explained, inwardly calming myself the best I could manage.

"Well that's less interesting." With that, Chase went back to eating, as if that whole conversation hadn't just happened. At least now he seemed a little more at ease. I exhaled and tried to relax in my chair. But after what Chase said I couldn't help but feel a little weird. My cheeks were still feeling kind of warm. Thankfully my stomach knot had untied itself a little bit earlier. Unfortunately now it's back.