"Does Matt Murdock know you're here?"
Fuck. Why the fuck did Frank have to mention him right away?
Matthew Murdock had absolutely nothing to do with it.
They're friends.
Friends. Good old friends, with established boundaries of never again trying something stupid like a few years ago.
Right?
Frustrated, Karen put her face in her hands, confused about her own feelings. Every 'conversation' she had with Frank was exactly like this, him always reminding her of the existence of the very devil himself, Matt Murdock. The great irony of it all is that in truth, Frank hadn't even dreamed that Matt was actually Daredevil. But still...
Fuck! Why did her love life have to be so difficult? Maybe if she were a normal person, she could get involved with normal men too and not the ones with savior syndrome in their blood or whatever the fuck that was.
"Maybe therapy would solve that." she laughed weakly the same moment the thought came to her mind. Because, to be quite honest with herself, who was she to say that? A lonely woman, lost, with a past that she was desperately trying to escape, pretending to be normal. Maybe the only difference was that she tried to believe it, tried to hold on to this other reality where the past didn't exist and she was just another dreamy girl trying to make a life in New York. But she was a magnet for trouble, as her own father said.
"That's what you do, Karen."
The memory of the cold, cutting voice still echoing in her mind.
That was it.
Her life was a tangle of problems that she created or got herself into, when in reality she was just trying to do the right thing.
Just like Matt. Just like Frank.
But in the end, no matter how hard she tried to do the right thing, to help people, to give meaning to her miserable life, she always ended up exactly as she had started. Picking up the pieces of the dignity she still thought she had.
She had tried to love Matt, to be with him at all times and support him, but in the end... he chose Elektra and even with her dead, continued acting like a stubborn asshole pretending he didn't need her, much less Foggy.
And now... Frank was also telling her to go away, asking her to stay away, for whatever fucking altruistic reasons he thought he had as justification.
Everything was leading up to this very moment, rejected by the men she loved, feeling nothing but the emptiness of the cold office.
"You're a shame, Karen Page," she said to herself before leaving the office bathroom, fixing her crumpled white blouse, still smelling of hospital, preparing for another day in which she had, as always, to pretend that everything was fine.
Matt arrived at the office a little later than agreed. The three of them had agreed to arrive a little later so that they could work together on a complicated new case that they had accepted, it was a large case full of missing pieces that would require their full attention, especially Matt's. On the way to work, he smelled a delicious macchiato from a coffee shop that had just opened around the corner and decided he would take some to his work friends. He chuckled to himself at the irony of the formality of his own thought, because they were so much more than just that. Foggy was practically a sibling and Karen... Karen was a friend he couldn't imagine outside of his life anymore.
During the short ride to the office, he reflected on his own feelings, something he regularly caught himself doing when it came to defining his own feelings for Karen. They had forgiven each other, been honest, told each other's dark past, and without a doubt, he felt a lightness and openness between the two of them, but he couldn't define exactly why he couldn't always come to a concrete conclusion about the way he felt about her. It was as if sometimes it seemed that trying to define her as a friend was too strange, but at the same time, if he thought of her as something other than a good friend, he would cross an invisible boundary, wrong and forbidden.
So he pretended too. He pretended he didn't feel anything, he pushed aside any feeling beyond friendship that might submerge, trying to put aside the inevitable attraction he constantly felt for her, especially on the days when she was determined to get some clue, some information that might help the cases they were working on. Those days were a real torture for him, hearing her heartbeat elevated by her euphoria, feeling her warm skin, excited to do one of her favorite things, investigate and solve problems.
It was obvious that she didn't do it on purpose, but still, that didn't change the fact that somehow it still affected him.
And it was disconcerting for him not to know how to deal with it, especially since he thought he had experienced it all with Elektra.
What else could be worse than a relantionship full of ups and downs and wildness with Elektra?
With her he knew exactly what to expect. Provocations, challenges, actions calculated down to the last detail to get him off his feet... and for a while it worked. The adrenaline made him interested. Her rough sex and impulsive behavior were some of her appeals, living without limitations, doing whatever she wanted, with whomever she wanted, whenever she wanted. Including killing whoever she thought deserved it, occasionally.
Thinking about all this today, he knows it wouldn't last. Exactly as it happened. Even if she were alive, they would go on separate ways, because they were different.
He laughed faintly as he thought that maybe she and Frank Castle could have gotten along if they had met. Impulsive with a thirst for revenge, running over whoever was in their way without looking back. And preferably leaving a trail of bodies and blood, so everyone would know it was them.
How ironic isn't it?
No... the greater irony was that it took a building falling on him for him to realize that maybe his faith in Elektra was wrong and he had chosen wrong.
That he was a stubborn asshole who now looked like a confused teenager about his own feelings because he didn't want to admit that actually Karen's mysterious and unpredictable way of protecting the one she loved was what was keeping him from not being able to stop thinking of her as someone other than a friend.
Knowing that she was not so fragile, but actually brave and fearless when she told him about what she had tried to do with Fisk and what she had done with Wesley, had greatly changed the way he felt about her.
And well... here he was, walking into the office, ready to once again feel her feminine scent taking
over the room like a poison.
"Hey Karen." he smiled politely.
But to his surprise, the smell he smelled as he entered was not exactly hers, but a familiar masculine scent mixed with hospital smell.
"Hi Matt." she promptly replied. One hand massaged the back of her neck, in a clear sign of fatigue.
He raised his eyebrow in confusion for a moment. He knew that smell, but couldn't remember whose it was, the feeling of jealousy making it impossible for him to think rationally.
"Is everything all right?"
She bit her lips, pondering before answering. He would know if she lied, but she didn't want to tell the details of where she had been and who she had been with, already knowing what would come next the moment she told.
"Frank Castle is a killer."
She still remembered the last conversation she had had with Matt about Frank.
She definitely wasn't in the spirit for that right now. She had only gone to the office because she didn't want to be alone in the apartment after yet another disappointment.
"Uh, yeah...I'm...just tired...too many personal problems, I guess. But don't worry, it won't get in the way of work today." she forced a smile.
His expression changed from concern to compassion.
"You know that's not what I meant Karen... I care about you. We can do this another day if you want. Go home, get some rest. I'll be fine."
The fact that he was being understanding and caring at such a vulnerable time for her only made her angry. It was as if he pitied her, and she definitely didn't want him to feel that way about her. She didn't need another person feeling sorry for her and pushing her away.
No.
"Matt, I don't need you to feel sorry for me, okay? I'm perfectly fine. Let's just get this over with? Foggy called earlier to say he couldn't make it, had a problem with Marci or something. So..." she made a motion with her hands gesturing them to enter his office.
"Karen, I didn't mean to..."
"Matt, please... " she interrupted him, the pleading in her voice being enough to keep him from continuing that conversation, still intrigued by the familiar smell coming from her.
He nodded silently, entering the office and preparing to spend hours and hours analyzing documents and statements beside her.
Hours later, they were exhausted and tired from having spent the entire afternoon and evening gathering information to solidify the case. The atmosphere between them had changed, but she was still much quieter than usual, which only made him more curious and worried. Maybe if he was subtle, he could get her to talk. It wouldn't hurt to try.
"So, Foggy's wedding is coming up. Do you think he will invite those super rich clients he used to serve when he worked at Hogarth? It looks like it's going to be pretty fancy."
"If it's up to Marci, yes. Have you seen the menu? Champagne. Caviar..." she laughed.
It seemed to have worked, because she seemed more relaxed when answering.
"Wow. Everything I like the most. Stinking rich people and expensive food. Very classy."
They began to laugh together, genuine smiles this time, and he couldn't help but remember that it had been a long time since they had laughed like that, in a relaxed way.
When they stopped laughing, he put his hand on hers in a gentle gesture, attracting her sudden attention, as she stared at him, tense and surprised. Her heartbeat was racing from the proximity, which was humiliating to her, not being able to hide it.
"You know you can count on me, don't you? If you need to talk... anything." his serious voice and steady gaze suddenly made her feel warm.
No.
She wasn't going to fall for it again, let herself be taken in by his charm only to be left alone in the end.
No.
No more of this gallant charm and worried gaze, she was tired of it.
She suddenly took her hand away, surprising him.
"I told you I'm fine, didn't I? Why does everyone treat me like this? As if I'm fragile and they feel sorry for me! Well, guess what, Matt, I'm fine! I'm great! There's no reason for you to worry about me." she stood up, spitting the words angrily, leaving him shocked.
He stood up too.
"I'm not feeling sorry for you, Karen. I just want to make sure that you're all right. You've been acting strange all day ... I just ... hoped you'd trust me to tell me." the voice deep of concern.
"I appreciate that Matt, but I don't have to tell you everything, okay?" she crossed her arms, looking away from him.
If he hadn't been angry before, he definitely was now.
"Well, when your co-worker comes into the office smelling like hospital and another man all over her, acting weird all day, I'd say yes, it is my business." he was definitly angry, trying to hide the jealousy.
Goddamit.
He'd been trying to pretend everything was fine all day, but the fucking smell and her acting defensive with him was enough to drive him off his mind.
She blinked in surprise, disbelief, and annoyance at the fact that he was using 'his senses' or whatever he called them against her.
How dare he play the alpha male with her?
"This is none of your bus-"
"Damn it, Karen, cut it out. What really happened?" he put his hand on his waist in a clear sign of impatience.
"I-I... I just went to help a friend, that's all." she gathered her arms, taking a step back, feeling vulnerable like a little girl.
Damn you. Damn it!
She didn't want to talk about it with him.
"Friend? But what-"
He stopped talking abruptly, when hearing the sound of breaking news coming from the TV downstairs.
"And it seems that the Punisher struck again late this morning. Witnesses said they saw Frank Castle leaving Sacred Saints Hospital after a false fire alarm went off. The FBI said they're investigating what happened, but assured that the Punisher was killed after a car crash followed by an explosion."
Of course, that fucking smell. How could he have forgotten?
It's Frank Castle fucking smell.
Unbelievable. She had once again gone after Frank Castle.