Three uneventful days had past since Frank and Cordelia collided. Three quiet days, they hadn't talked much to one another, short of greetings in the hallway, Max had spent more time with the two girls than Frank had, which had much to do with Dahlia's pleadings. You would think a murder would have either brought them closer together or pushed them completely apart, but in reality nothing much had changed, except the knocking, the knocking was new.

As Frank took a reprieve from the slaughter, he made has was back to his apartment. He knocked twice on his shared wall with Cordelia. "We're alive!" She shouted back in response.
"Twenty." And that's all that had to be said for mutual gain. For Frank he knew that the secondary mission of keeping Cordelia and Dahlia alive was going without a hitch. For Cordelia it meant she could catch a twenty minute nap, knowing if any threats to her or Dahlia were headed her way Frank would shoot it down without hesitation. It was an agreement that had happened organically over those three days, no planning, no words, it just seemed like the way it should be. They could keep their distance that they both loved so much yet still get what they needed from one another. It was effortless, it was comforting and it was tactical. Sure enough twenty minutes passed and Frank knocked on the wall again. "Cord?!" He waited patiently, listening carefully for her yawn.
"I'll feed Max if you don't come back." To anyone else that statement would have seemed exceptionally morbid, to them it made sense, it even felt good, they had each other's back. With the exchange over, Frank iced over, preparing for battle and left.

It was lining up to be a fourth quiet day in a row as Cordelia mindlessly watched another consecutive hour of some generic cooking contest when the mundane was shattered, along with Frank's door. That crash caused Cordelia to shriek like a school girl as she contemplated who it could be. In her mind this had to be about Rocky it was no coincidence. Which meant it was either the Police or The Dogs, though she found the second fairly unlikely. 'He wasn't low on the totem pole, Rocky was under it.' So that meant it must be the police, which brought her to her second question. What to do? Shit was hitting the fan.

'Mind your business right? That's what Frank would want right?' Her argument would have been convincing enough for her if another sound hadn't bled through the walls: booming aggressive barking

'God Dammit that fucking horse will be the death of me!' Cordelia stood with annoyance. She could have in theory let them burn Frank at the steak but she had promised to look after Max, she owed Frank that much. Frank aside Dahlia would lose the will to live without her beastly best friend. "God dammit." Cordelia muttered aloud as she made her way to the door, cracking it open slightly. The barking had stopped.

"Ma'am get back in your apartment." A voice farther from Frank's than conceivably possible addressed her. How he had noticed her went over Cordelia's head.
"I . . . don't take the hor . . . dog it's kind of half mine." It seemed so silly she knew the dog was the least of concerns for whoever had just made that ballsy decision to break into Frank's apartment.
"I need you to tell me everything you know about your neighbor. Then stay far away from him, he's a dangerous man, he will hurt you." The shadows of the poorly lit hallway finally gave way to a hoodie clad man, who was approaching her door. Which she promptly slammed in his face, chain locking it.
"You're not the police, you can't just be breaking in to people's homes." She spoke through the crack in the door.

"I'm not the bad guy here." There was a light almost jovial tone to the man Cordelia was staring at through her peephole. "I don't know what he told you but-"
"You know all my years I haven't met a single bad guy? Everyone's a hero and saint, makes you wonder who they're all fighting." Cordelia was so confused. 'If he isn't a cop, and he's too . . . mild mannered to be a gang member then who the fuck is he? What does he want with Frank?'
"I'm no saint, I'm just a man trying to . . . trying to stop this guy from hurting more people. You know it's just a matter of time before an innocent person gets hurt, that person could be you . . . someone you care about." This speech was dragging on but it did cast doubt in Cordelia's mind, her thoughts shot to Dahlia for just a second. Then there was silence a long contemplative silence.

"Ma'am I need-"
" I'm coming out don't try anything" The chain shifted to an unlocked setting.
"I won't hurt you." Matt waited patiently as the door slowly opened. "Is the knife really necessary?" Cordelia was brandishing the biggest kitchen knife she could find, hoping this stranger wasn't as armed to the teeth as Frank.
"I don't know a lot about the guy . . . he keeps to himself. He's about yay tall." Her arm strained as she exaggerated her estimation of Frank's intimidating hight, taking note when the mystery man's eyes did not follow her. 'Tell me he's fucking blind' She let out a sigh before continuing as if she didn't notice. "Dark hair, dark eyes you know just . . . dark in general." She shrugged as she described the boogeyman.
"His name, what is his name?" At this desperate plea Cordelia paused again, was she going to betray Frank's trust? It was her and Dahlia versus the world, it always had been, nothing had changed right? 'That's just fine? Hell that's living?' Frank's taunt burned her ear drums.

"Why does it have to be you huh? Why don't you let the police go after him?" She was stalling but his lack of quality answer gave Cordelia the tell she didn't know she was searching for. "Let me guess, you do what the police can't right? Can I tell you how tired I am of hearing that shit?" Sometimes her people reading skills impressed even herself. 'Another vigilante, Frank's on his turf, this is all one big dick measuring contest. These fuckers are multiplying like gremlins.' She had won this chess game, she couldn't help but smile. "Look I make sure his dog is ok when he's out I don't have his social security number. He-"
"Fine if you don't trust me call the police. Ask for Mahoney, tell him you have information on the Punisher." Matt would cut his loses, if she told the police he would pick up the information soon enough.
"Punisher?" The monicker shook Cordelia to her core. It's not that it surprised her, or even that she thought it was too much, but it made everything that had transpired all the more real, it let her know it was only going to get more real, Frank was only going to get darker and she was being dragged into the darkness along side him, more startling, that seemed alright, she was oddly at peace with it. 'I'm no pixie either.'
"He's dangerous Ma'am. Stay away from him, that knife wouldn't protect you from me, and it sure as hell won't protect you from him. Don't tell him I was here that's all I ask."

"How very hero . . .y of you." Cordelia replied flatly, returning to the safety of her apartment, slamming it behind her. She stared out the peephole making sure he left then threw her obsolete knife on her floor. "Fuck!" This reality check had made Cordelia feel useless, confused even a bit scared, for her, for Dahlia, for Frank. That flood of worry was making her feel sick to her stomach.
Cordelia only had about half an hour to try and calm her nerves, it was wasted effort though. They were about to be shot all over again.

Frank was making his rounds about the city, spending most of these long hours doing reconnaissance, even Frank's day was going quietly. When driving by his apartment building something caught his eye. 'Cops.' He saw two cars out front. 'Guess it was trash day.' He pulled into the lot, under the pretense he was unsure if Cordelia would crack under scrutiny. His timing was impressive reaching his hallway as her interview began.
"Miss Bell we're sorry to bother you but were you aware-"
"Cord what's going on?" Frank had stopped dead in his tracks, seeing his door was tampered with.
"Frank!" She could see he felt trapped, he was looking for an exit strategy. "They're not here about your door Frank I told you no one took anything, just some punk getting his kicks breaking shit." She tried to fill him in best she could, letting out a sigh of relief when it appeared he caught the hint, resuming his approach.

"And you are?" One of the cops turned to meet Frank.
"I live here." He pointed over at his apartment, keeping as much personal information to himself.
"Then we can get both of you out of the way. Do either of you know a Sylvester 'Rocky' Angelucci?"
"Yeah that's the biker downstairs, always hasslin Cordelia, I had to walk her upstairs just to get him to leave her alone." Frank was surprisingly upfront with the officers.
"Well he was murdered the other day and we were wondering if anyone had any idea who would have done it?"
"Pick a number." Frank snorted a reply.
"Tragic but this city it's easy to make enemies . . . could have been anyone. Rocky was in a gang and-" Cordelia tried to be slightly more diplomatic.
"Being a gang member seems to be a death sentence as of late." An officer cut Cordelia off, his voice seemed exhausted.
"That's true I'm sorry we can't be of more help, we weren't exactly on friendly terms with Mr Angelucci. Are there many more questions? I have a piano lesson to give to and Frank is my ride so-"
"Just asking around Ma'am. Call us if you think of anything alright?"
"Sure" Cordelia nodded.
"Will do." Frank agreed, appeasing the officers who moved on down the hall.

"Get in here!" Cordelia yanked Frank into her apartment.
"Piano lessons miss Bell?" Frank seemed skeptical.
"It's not a lie, I do them on the side for some of the kids on the block. A prostitute playing piano say that five times fast." She let out a nervous chuckle.
"Your name ain't Bell. That's the old lady's name and she ain't your mother so-" He was a bit offended she thought that would slip by him.
"I don't want them looking into me Frank. I can't let anyone take Dahlia away from me, I promised I wouldn't let anyone take her let anyone hurt her." Another thing that hadn't slipped past Frank was how intensely Cordelia's eyes lingered on him as she said those words, like she was trying to solve a Rubik cube.

"I wouldn't hurt that kid, you know that." Frank went from offended to his mainstay outraged.
"You will." Cordelia stated with a defeated sigh, rubbing tense temples.
"You think . . . you really think I'd hurt a hair on that kid's head?"
"You're a killing machine, a death dealer . . . you're the Punisher-" Frank's eyes opened wide at the mention of his new title. His jaw clenched, someone had gotten to her while he was out, likely the same person who broke into his apartment, likely the same person Cordelia held the knife on the floor for protection from. His mission was faltering, he needed it back on track.
"Cord who-"
"And one day you'll die." Cordelia's mouth felt dry and numb uttering that sentence. "You won't ever raise a hand to Dahlia, but one day you will die and that hurt will be worse than anything she's ever felt, and I can't protect her from that." That looming sense of helplessness crept over Cordelia again.

"Did someone threaten me?" Frank was taken a back by how solemn Cordelia was acting, as if she was already burying him.
"The whole city is threatening you Frank! You just haven't noticed because that's exactly what you want."
"You don't know what I want." She was doing it again, she was probing his brain digging around in thoughts Frank didn't have time nor need to sort through himself.
"Rule one of being a successful prostitute, everything goes easier if you know what the customer really wants. I always know what people want."

"That right? You know me so well? What I want? What I want is-"
"To paint the roses red." Cordelia gave a defeated smirk, her head was hanging low.
"What?" Frank's hands clenched in fists, his feet planted firmly as if they were about to square off. He detested how off guard she could put him with just a few words.
"You want the world to see what you see, to hurt like you hurt."
"Just the ones who deserve it, the ones at fault. My family deserves justice."
"You're not dumb Frank. So you either know it and are ignoring it, or you simply won't allow yourself to see it. It effects everyone, what your doing, not just the bad guys, everyone. People are scared, or rallying behind you, even criminals have families the whole city is holding their breath because of you."
"And what? You want me to stop? What do you want Cord?" He'd do anything to have those sad pond colored eyes to stop drowning him, almost anything. "Well let me tell you something I ain't stopping till god strikes me down himself. I got one foot in the fucking grave and I'm dragging as many of em down to hell with me before-"
"Rule number two of being a good prostitute: It never matters what you want." Cordelia shook her head. "Go out in a blaze of glory Frank, if that's what makes you happy." She had a smile, disingenuous as it was it somehow dialed back Franks rage slightly.
"This ain't glory, and I ain't happy. You done now? Get it all out, session over Doc? Now who broke into my place? Was it the dogs?" After such a serious soliloquy Frank was almost bowled over by the sound of Cordelia's hearty laughter, her eyes went from weighted to the floor to brimming with light as her sad frown turned to a Cheshire grin.

"You really do have a one track mind." She tapped a bewildered Frank between the eyes with her index finger.
"Cord?!" He was not in a joking mood, he never was, but she did manage to get a flicker of a grin out of him.
"You got competition Frank. Someone else is trying to clean up Hell's kitchen. Can't say I saw a blind vigilante coming . . . was that in poor taste?" She wanted to keep him here, in the world of the living, not chasing demons and ghosts, but as she previously stated, it mattered little what she wanted.
"Red." Frank was out the door, he was done with this meddling do gooder.

"Frank?! What? You're not seriously going to shoot a blind guy in the face are you?" Cordelia followed Frank into his apartment, seeing it for the first time in it's disturbing militia glory. "Frank I think you messed up I see a futon which is clearly a missed opportunity for more guns, seriously some guns could really brighten up the place."
"Can't ignore it anymore can you? This is a lot for you to take." Frank could tell Cordelia was nervous, she was deflecting with sarcasm, this was grizzly and macabre, she was out of her element.
"It's nothing special." Cordelia's arm's crossed over her chest trying to hold onto her warmth in such a cold lifeless place.
"You don't know me as well as you thought do you Cord?" Frank wanted this to sink in, wanted Cordelia to take in the gravity and finality of it all. She could analyze him all she like, no one knew Frank Castle.

"That so?" She could feel Frank pushing her away. She would not be dismissed so easily, she would not continue feeling helpless, she stood her ground.
"If you did, you'd know I've already done that, already shot Red once." He raised a hand in the motion of a shooting gun.
"Because of course you did." Cordelia rolled her eyes with a chuckle, he was betraying himself, push as he did, a small part of him was still pulling her in, didn't want to be in this completely alone. "Don't brag OK? It doesn't suit you. So tell me, how does a blind man dodge a sniper's bullet?"
"Lapse in judgement." Frank's teeth were grinding.
"Won't miss this time? It doesn't matter that you're on the same side? Because he broke your door?" Cordelia bombarded him with questions, trying to pry at his conscience.
"What have I told you huh? About staying out of my head?" He turned away from her, as if her eyes were literally piercing through his skull. Frank grabbed his duffle bag shoving one weapon after another into it's abyss. "We ain't on the same side. I'm not on a side Cord. Good, Bad don't mean shit to me, there's just me and people in my way."
"OK." Cordelia knew she was dangerously close to digging too deep, to releasing the animal inside of Frank, allowing it to devour him whole. "I'll get out of your way." She stepped away from him, giving him room to breath. "I'd love to stay and brood with you, but it's my night out. Dahlia's at Mrs. Bell's for the day and you're killing a buzz I don't even have yet."

"Cord?" Frank's voice was surprisingly not heated and venomous, just generally curious.
"Yeah Frank?"
"In that uh . . . Prostitute play book of yours yeah? Where does piano fit into that?"
"It doesn't, there's no practical purpose for a piano playing prostitute." She lightened the mood, cut the tension by adding to her alliteration.
"Then why?" It was Frank's turn, to take control of the conversation, make her feel uncomfortable. She could clearly see what he was doing, and felt it only fair, to let him pry where she hadn't given permission.
"For fun, My . . . My Mom taught me how to play." She would allow it, but another of her rules, never give up complete control, so she kept her answers tight and to her chest.
"You got parents." He wasn't getting pleasure in watching her squirm, but it did feel better, more even that they both had their walls being chipped at.
"Yeah Frank I wasn't hatched from an egg. I have a mom, a dad . . . I had a family once." Her crossed arms hugged herself closer, the cold was attacking her from every corner.
"What happened then? What put you out on the streets?" He dropped his bag, he unsquared his shoulder best he could, trying to portray he was listening, he was taking this seriously. For reasons he didn't evaluate he wanted to know more about her.
"Life." Cordelia shrugged, her face souring at memories she had shelved with good reason. '100, 99, 98, 97-'

"I'll give you a tip Frank." She tucked those memories neatly away again and looked up at Frank, guard reestablished.
"What's that?" Frank grumbled, displeased that he couldn't match her at verbal disarming.
"You gotta have a soul . . . to dip into other people's"
"Saying I got no soul Ma'am?" Frank took that as more of a compliment than he should have.
"No you got one, it's under all this chiseled marble." Cordelia bridged the glaring gap between them, playfully knocking a fist against Frank's chest. "Anyone home?" She pressed her ear over Frank's heart listening to a cool steady heart beat pick up slightly. For another hiccup of a second Frank felt compelled to to something distinctly out of character, his body urged him to raise his arm, to hold her there, close to him. Frank follows no will other than his own, not even his muscles and bones, he fought against that urge and pushed her away.
"Stop it!" His body did gain a small victory, his face wasn't angry or dismissive, he was smiling.
"You're no fun." Cordelia smirked, she no longer felt the sucking cold, Frank had given her what little warmth he had.
"Yeah, it's kinda my thing Ma'am" Frank lifted his bag, eyeing the door, hinting it was time for them to part ways. Cordelia nodded and left the den of death.
"I'll feed Max if you don't come back Frank." She gave her goodbye.

"I'll come back." Frank might have been right in his earlier assumption, that Maria had placed Cordelia and Dahlia in his sights, and perhaps he was right in the purpose, that his wife was so intrinsically good that she wanted to save all the women and children in the world, but maybe there was more to it, that Frank's pessimism would not allow him to see. Perhaps she had dropped Cordelia in front of him, to be his anchor to hold onto that very small scarp that was more man than machine, perhaps Maria knew what he didn't. Hell's kitchen might need the Punisher, but there were people who needed Frank Castle, he needed to live not only for vengeance, but to live, he deserved to live, to hope.

He would hate that word by the end of the night, he could barely tolerate Cordelia questioning his moves and motives, Red's holier than though shtick boiled his blood. Frank and Dare Devil clashed again, both adamant that their way was the only way. The battle of brawn, will, hope and steel ended in a frustrating stalemate. Frank was livid by the time he got home, he had finally gotten Grotto but being knocked out by Dudly do right, sent home to lick his wounds hurt his pride more than anything else. 'Hope? What's hope get you?' Frank was pacing his floor, a slight limp to his gait. 'A hole in the head.' He lobbed his knuckles where the bullet had struck him the night that he lost all hope. 'Not again. I won't let him get in my way again. I'll get em, I'll get every last son of a bitch. Jail is for jay walkers I'll feed em to the worms' He punched his wall, cracking the ugly beige paint. His stewing stopped abruptly as his ears perked up to the sound of running water and counting.

"76, 75, 74-" Cordelia's shaky voice could only barely be heard over her shower.
"Cordelia?" Frank boomed demanding her attention, but she didn't acknowledge him just counted on
"73, 72, 71, 70-"
"Cord if you don't answer I'll break down your door." Frank pounded his fist against the wall again, one could sense a twinge of panic in his demand.
"We're alive." Cordelia strained out the correct response, her throat was tight, it was obvious she had been crying.
"What's going on Super Girl?" Frank didn't know what to do, so he just continued to talk to a wall like a crazy person. He knew what he wanted to do, he wanted Cordelia to give him a target to strike down, he wanted a battle to win, he had gotten the short end of the stick earlier and he could use a punching bag, anything would do.
"Will . . . will you come over?" The water had stopped, Cordelia's voice had calmed slightly. Frank didn't waste time with words, by the time she asked he was already at her door, dense fist threatening to break through by force.

After a few minutes of incessant knocking and floor pacing the door opened slowly. "Frank?"
"Cord what's wrong?" Once the door was completely opened that question was irrelevant, replaced quickly with another. "Who?" Frank growled, a hand reach out tracing bruises circling Cordelia's neck, the hand pulled back incapable of remaining gentle, balling back into a fist.
"Frank I don't need-"
"Who?!" It seemed the two of them only knew a handful of words in this moment of blind rage and pain. Frank would not waste time, he went to get suited for battle, but as he turned to leave his wrist was grabbed by a shaking Cordelia.
"Don't leave . . . please don't leave! You asked what I wanted? I want you to just stay . . . for a little bit?" Cordelia was pleading with Frank to go against every fiber of his being, all his lust for revenge and carnage. His breath labored, every muscle tense Frank glared at Cordelia, so much resentment at what she was asking of him.
"Fine." Frank nodded with visible disdain, slowly following Cordelia into her apartment. He seemed cold and callous but he had to be, to really get through to Cordelia, to get out of her whatever she was scared to say. "Don't be an idiot Cord, just tell me what happened. I'm not playing twenty questions." Frank would stay long enough to find out who was putting his mission in peril, who was dumb enough to hurt Cordelia, who would die before the day was over. It was no longer enough to keep Cordelia and Dahlia alive, it was more than that. It was Cordelia Dahlia and Frank versus the world.