Alison's POV
(bellamysgirl)

The police kept me for most of what was left of the night. I only got out just after daybreak. News of Luke Cage escaping police custody spread like wildfire throughout Harlem. So I'd guessed that he was out there somewhere, looking for Diamondback. But he obviously didn't want to include me seeing as I was on my way back to the last place I remember leaving my car, instead of helping him right now.

I sighed, fishing for my car keys in my pocket. Inconsequently, never look down when you're walking in New York City, because I've learned you only end up getting literally yanked into doing something you thought you'd never do. Like me, right now. A grip on my arm suddenly jerked me to the left, pulling me into a side street alleyway. My instinct was to slap whoever it was, and I did.

But when I was finally spun around—after slapping him of course—I found it was Luke that snatched me from the street. I tilted my head a 'really?' expression and he looked extremely guilty, but a small smile pulled at his lips. "Sorry, I don't have your phone number," he apologized. Then he paused, thinking. "Or a phone…"

I sighed, smiling a little. "Okay, I get it. What's the sitch?"

"I need to find Diamondback, but I'm just hitting dead ends," he explained, before twisting to check the street. Then he turned back to me with a heavy sigh. "And I was hoping you might have some street rats with their ears to the ground?"

"You think I know someone evil enough—or stupid enough—to be working with a monster like Diamondback?" I folded my arms, raising my eyebrow sternly. Luke paused and his expression dropped just slightly, eyeing me. He was obviously trying to figure out if I was joking, but leaning towards me being serious. Then I dropped my arms and nodded, smiling again. "Yeah, I know a guy."

"Know where he is?" he asked, a full smile creeping onto his face.

"He should be around here somewhere. Last time I saw him wasn't that great, so he might not want to talk to me, but he's just enough weasel to turn on Diamondback," I nodded.

He nodded in return, checking the street again. "Good. Let's get moving. Cops are crawling all over the streets." Right, police patrols. I grabbed his wrist and started further into the alley, and he followed behind, pulling his hand up further to slide into mine fully. I may not have been to Harlem many times over my lifetime. But there are certain places all criminals will be.

Luke helped navigate, and together we found the snitch.

He was trying to sell guns out of his trunk again, in some shady-looking lot of junker cars and junk heaps. "Turk," I called, strolling up. He turned around and paused, his face dropping almost instantly upon seeing me. I walked to him and stood a foot in front of him, Luke coming to stand just behind me and to the left. "Well, if it isn't New York's own Angela Lansbury," Turk quipped, his shoulders dropping.

I smirked at the comment. "We need to have a chat."

"So what can I do for the infamous Mrs. Punisher?" Turk asked, sarcastically, holding out his arms in a gesture. Then he looked at Luke, his face scrunching up. "And you're new boyfriend?"

"Diamondback. Where is he?" Luke asked, as I slid my hands in my pockets. Turk chuckled humorlessly, shaking his head, like he couldn't possibly know anything about it—when actually he could probably give me the guy's social security number if I pushed him for it. "Man, I don't know-"

Luke took a step forward, and Turk visibly swallowed. "Where?" Luke pressed. Turk's eyes shifted to me and my eyebrows rose expectantly. He sighed heavily. "Fine…alright, he's in a warehouse, okay?" he confessed. Luke grabbed Turk's jacket collar and Turk squirmed. "What- hey- Alison, come on. You're not gonna let him treat your boy like that, are ya?"

I shook my head. "Uh-uh, don't look at me. You got yourself into this. We need an address, Turk."

"Alright, fine- fine! I'll write it down. Sheesh." Luke let go of Turk and took a step back, and Turk shook his head, mumbling something under his breath I couldn't quite make out. I rolled my eyes. He acts like he's a normal dude that's just like everybody else. That he doesn't sell illegal weapons to criminals. That he doesn't help terrorists, mobs, and mafias get street intel to further their evil plots.

That he's the hero of not only this story, but every story. Turk wrote the address on a note in my cell phone and I showed it to Luke. "Is that a real place?" I asked him. Turk tilted his head in a 'really?' way, just like I'd done to Luke not a half an hour earlier. "Seriously?" he all but scoffed.

"Like I'm gonna trust you on this," I shot back.

"It's real," Luke confirmed, with a sigh.

"Great, let's go." Luke started walking and I followed a few steps behind. But I stopped just a few yards away at the sound of my name. I turned, raising an eyebrow. I thrusted my arms out at my sides to urge him to talk fast. Turk visibly sighed heavily. "Be safe while you're runnin' around saving the world, alright?" he said, his expression tired.

"I will." I held up my thumb a second then turned and hurried after Luke. He didn't get too far, but I did have to jog for a few long strides to catch up. Seeing as I had no real idea where I was going in this joint, Luke lead the way to the warehouse Turk directed us to in the note. It wasn't too far, though, thankfully. I was not in mood to trapes half way across Harlem. Luke easily broke whatever lock was on the door and rolled it open.

I stayed beside the doorway, waiting for Luke to give the go-ahead for going in, too. He glanced around through the now open doorway and paused. "You're good," he signaled. I slid along the building and stepped into the doorway, unearthing my gun from my belt. I finally got the thing back from the cops. This is my third gun, and this time I got papers, so they couldn't exactly charge me for having it.

I kept it ready, my finger just waiting to slide into the trigger guard, as I took slow steps inside. My eyes scanned the wide and open space, Luke a few feet to my left doing the same. It appeared empty at first glance. But a few more steps in, and I could see bodies strewn about the floor of the warehouse. "Uh…Luke?" I glanced left.

He suddenly paused looking straight forward, going rigid. Then he sprung into action. "Get out, now!" He grabbed my arm, but I didn't need much prodding to start running. We made it to just less than a foot outside the building before a wave of heat erupted behind me and something hard slammed into my side, tackling me to the ground. Arms encircled me just before heat did the same. I could see flames through the corners of my eyes and I squeezed them shut, turning into Luke's chest.

It lasted for maybe two minutes before it faded enough for me to look around. The adrenaline was causing my chest to heave for a breath, and I twisted to look over Luke's shoulder. He twisted to see as well. The whole warehouse was burning, in pieces. I looked up at Luke and he turned back to me, his eyes meeting mine. I quickly started nodding, "That was good thinking." His eyes shifted down and slightly to the right.

Then I felt a stinging on my left arm as his hand touched the area and my eyes shot down. There was a strip of seared flesh along my left upper arm, right through my jacket—that was still smoldering. That thought caught my attention and I turned back to Luke, my eyes scanning his hoodie. I could see just enough to tell that the better part of the back of it was toast. "Remind me never to take you to a warehouse," Luke joked, lightly.

"Bad timing?" I squinted with a half-smile, sarcastically, and he laughed.

"Come on. We need to move." He stood and offered me his hand, and I took it, him pulling me to my feet with ease. I hissed and looked at my burned arm once more. It really wasn't good but it wasn't too bad considering. I just wondered how on earth I was supposed to explain this to Matt when I got back to Hell's Kitchen. Ugh.

I turned back to Luke and my eyes rounded. "Um, Luke, your jacket's on fire."

"What-?" He twisted, then tore off what was left of his hoodie and tossed it on the ground. Small flames were burning up the remnants where he dropped it. He sighed heavily, mildly annoyed, and I nudged his arm. "Eh, don't worry. I'll get you another one," I promised. "This one won't burn so easily."

He eyed me a second, curiously. "Yeah? How are you gonna do that?"

I shrugged lightly, with a closed-mouthed smile. "I know a guy," I said, just as Luke nodded, saying you know a guy in unison.

Luke and I headed back to where I thought I'd left my car. It took a while to get there. Not because of distance, but because he couldn't really show his face too much on the streets, so we took the alleys. And that was quite a bit longer than it should've been. But it was nice. The conversation was easy, light. Mostly about what life is like in Hell's Kitchen. We'd joked about a comparison, trying to figure out which one was worse, Hell or Harlem.

We settled on Harlem—at least for the time being. Until Diamondback and all the psychos like him are off the streets, it's a pretty crummy place around here. No one is safe anymore. No one. I guess that's why I'm here, helping people like Luke. "So, if Diamondback ditched his base of ops," I said, walking an extra stride to keep up with Luke on the sidewalk. "He must be pretty close to his endgame."

"He's gotta have somethin' up his sleeve," Luke agreed, visibly thinking. We walked for a few paces before he continued, sighing. "I don't know…maybe you should get outta here? You know, while you still can? I got this feeling things are gonna get bad real fast. You've got a boy at home, remember?"

I inhaled. "I remember. I also remember that if you have no one in your corner, you're gonna get nowhere. I can still help."

"You just don't give up, do you?" He chuckled, shaking his head.

"Not on you," I agreed, shaking my head.

He glanced at me, exhaling. "Alright, fine. Stay in harm's way and be stubborn. But you gotta promise me something. If it looks like I'm gonna lose this…you get your boy, get your things, and get out of New York. Diamondback's not gonna stop with me—or with Harlem. He'll take the whole city if he can. And you don't deserve to get caught up in that."

"Is this your way of flirting with me?" We ducked into an alley as I said the words, giving Luke the perfect opportunity to look back at me, giving me an expression I couldn't quite pin down to one emotion. I smiled, stepping off the sidewalk, and fell back into step with him. "And if it was?" he questioned, the corners of his lips curving up.

I looked up at him. It was hard to do sometimes, given how tall that man was. Like, seriously, I was some kind of elf standing next to him. I focused my eyes back on the alleyway in front of us, humming a little. "Then…I'd have to say I promise," I reasoned, lightly. "But, Luke…there are a lot of things you don't know about me-"

"Come on, Alison. You're an open book."

I smirked, looking up at him again. "Oh, really? What's my favorite thing in the whole world?"

"Vanilla Chai Lattes—but if we were talking about people it'd be your son," he answered, easily.

"Favorite color? Birthplace?"

"Brown and Rochester." I sighed heavily, trying to think of something I probably hadn't already spewed. But he beat me to words, surprising me with his next ones. "Look…I get it. You poured your heart into somebody and it almost worked out, but it didn't. I read the papers. Specifically, I read the Bulletin articles with your byline. I know what happened."

"No," I shook my head. "You really don't."

"So tell me." He stopped, causing me to stop, and turned to face me. I sighed, but he didn't seem to waver. I rolled my eyes, sliding my hands into my pockets, only reminding myself of the singed skin on my upper arm. "It's not that simple. It didn't just…notwork out. He died," I explained, swallowing hard. "In my arms. I don't want you to be the rebound guy—you deserve better than that."

He was quiet a moment, looking left, out at the street. Then his eyes shifted back to mine, "What if I want that, as long I have you?" My eyes softened, my head tilting a little. And it hit me hard. He was serious. The determination in his eyes, in his voice—there was no denying that. I opened my mouth to speak. "Luke…I-"

My cell phone cut me off, ringing in my pocket. I sighed heavily and dug the stupid thing out, holding it up to my ear, giving a frustrated, "Hello?"

"It's Detective Knight, you got a minute?"

My fingers pinched the bridge of my nose. Luke sighed and walked away a few steps, turning his back to me, and I inwardly cursed out Misty for having the worst timing on this whole stupid planet. I inhaled deeply, through my nose. "Sure, why not?" I threw the words at the phone but she didn't seem to notice.

"Look, I just wanted to…thank you for saving my life last night. After all I did I figured you'd be the last person to help me. But you came through," she said, her tone sincere—as far as I could tell. "I want you to know I owe you. Anytime you need a favor, just call me. Got it, Fletcher?"

"Yeah…I got it," I nodded, though she couldn't see it.

"Good. And don't you forget it."

"Trust me, I won't. How's your arm?"

"Great, thanks to you."

"Keep it that way."

I hung up the phone and slid it back into my pocket, exhaling. Something in my arm twinged and I looked down. The charred flesh was like chapped lips. It was starting to split in a thin line where a blister used to be, just thicker than a paper cut, causing it to bleed lightly. The pain was only worsening by the second. I'd never had too much experience with burns—especially on myself—but I knew I had stuff for it in my med bag, in my car.

Getting there was the only problem. Because, before that unnecessary phone call from Misty, I was in a highly undesirable position. I glanced up. Luke was walking back toward me from the street as I did. I inhaled sharply. Come on, Alison. Don't do this to yourself. He was basically in tatters from the waste up after the explosion fried most of his clothing. Focus, you idiot.

I swallowed. "Apparently I'm bleeding."

"Your car's just a couple blocks up. Shouldn't take long to get there," he assured, stopping a foot or two from me. I nodded slowly, my eyes scrutinizing his face. Trying to gauge what kind of mood he was in or even what he was thinking after our interrupted discussion was next to impossible. Finally, I sighed, dropping my shoulders, "Luke, I don't wanna do this. I just…I need time to think about it."

"Take all the time you need for that," he agreed, evenly, like he had no problems with it to begin with—which I inwardly cursed myself for not seeing. Then he pointed in a gesture toward my arm. "But, right now I think that needs more attention."

I nodded once. "Right. To the car."

"This way."

It's not something that's been much on my mind, love. I lost that along with Frank. Something deep inside me supposed that maybe there was a glimmer of a chance that my hallucination was real and he was alive out there somewhere, doing what Punishers do. And maybe he's thinking about me because I was thinking about him. The ointment I had in my med bag stung as I gently spread it across the burn.

It was a really nice thought. But the passing empty days were only proving that's all it was—a thought. I stifled an audible wince and grabbed a gauze pad from my kit. To the best of my abilities, I peeled open the package around it and placed the pad atop the burn, then reached for the wrap. As I unraveled a few inches to start, my mind wandered suddenly, without my consent. My eyes were stuck on a spot as I zoned out for a moment.

"Honestly, Frank, I can do it myself," I almost huffed, frustrated with my trembling hands. The needle aimed for my skin but teetered and shook, always veering off course. Frank exhaled through his nose with a small scoffing sound that passed through his lips. "Right. Look, just- put that down before you hurt yourself, alright?" he said, easing the needle and thread from my fingers.

I sighed heavily in annoyance, sitting back an inch. After what happened, after…after Karen, I just couldn't make any part of my body move right. And this stupid gash on my leg was only bleeding further without any hint of stopping sometime soon. So Frank sat on the edge of the couch beside me, lifting the injured leg I had propped up there to be placed across his lap once he was down.

He exhaled. "You don't always have to fix yourself, you know."

"I know. I just…prefer it."

The needle pricked through my skin and I hissed, gripping the armrest of the torn up couch. I tried to relax my shoulders as the thread pulled through. This sensation was nothing new to me, thanks to the events of late. But it still hurt way more than it should. I inhaled, "Does this mean I have to start calling you Doctor Castle? Because I think that name's already taken."

"Frank is fine."

"I'm being sarcastic."

"I know."

I sighed heavily, tipping my head back to look at the ceiling. Another prickle of the needle burned my skin and I gritted my teeth, holding—almost—perfectly still this time. "Do you wanna talk about it?" I was a bit surprised by his words, given the mood I'd thrown us into clear back at the shed in the woods. It had tainted the drive back to the Café, as well.

My first thought was no. No, I don't want to talk about how one of the only people that was left that supported pretty much all my decisions thus far is now dead. The first one was Mary. And now it was Karen. Both supported me, both helped me, both were my friends—and both are dead. And I couldn't save either of them. I exhaled through my nose. "What is there to talk about?" I asked, tiredly.

"She was your friend and she died right in front of you. I know you, Alison. You're either being quiet right now because you need to talk about it—but don't want to—or you're about to start crying," he answered, calmly, starting another stitch. I lifted my head to look at him. Yeah, that was pretty much spot on. But I couldn't even tell which one I was leaning toward. Probably the second option.

After a moment of me not answering, he added, "So which is it?" I bit my lower lip to keep myself from speaking. Okay, yeah, definitely the second option. The lump in my throat never really went away. It was just buried from the spite I threw in Frank's face earlier. And now it was starting to bubble back up. But I inhaled a deep breath to hold it in before answering. "Um…do I have to pick one?"

"Yes."

I groaned. "Number two, then."

Frank had put gauze and wrapping on the now completely sewn shut gash. I hadn't even noticed when he'd stopped sewing. He'd just clipped off the wrapping when I'd finally picked an option. Once he did, I slid my leg back and let it rest on the floor rather than his lap, sitting up as I did. "Alison," he sighed. "Look at me."

"Don't," I shook my head, keeping my eyes on my knees.

"Look at me, Alison."

I squeezed my eyes shut. A sliver of water slipped from my right eye, trailing heat down my cheek and off my chin as I did. I forced my eyes to reopen and I shifted them up to meet Frank's. Everything about his features was softened. I almost startled from my jitters as his hand slid onto my cheek, his thumb swiping the trail of water from my skin. "It's okay," his voice was just above a whisper.

"Please…please don't say that- don't give me that face," I gave a half-hearted shake of my head. "Because I'm just gonna start…crying even worse and- great, it's working, are you happy now?"

Tears had forced their way up and out mid-sentence, not even giving me a chance to tell them no before they assaulted my cheeks. Frank slid his arms around me. "Come here," he said, and I leaned into his chest without a fight.

A foreign voice brought a steering wheel into view. And suddenly I remembered I was doing something, something important. I just couldn't remember what exactly was important. I glanced down at a stinging in my arm. Right. I was burned. "You okay?" Luke's voice startled me. I'd forgotten he was even in the passenger seat. I quickly looked up, nodding, trying to wave it off.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I lied. "I just remembered I was supposed to do something. Nothing important." Not as important as the pain it left in my chest.

Dani's POV
(Nightwing27th)

I sighed, knocking on the door to the old farm house. I never really pictured Clint as a country guy. Until he moved to the country. Now it's just sad. The city boy trying to be country. I heard his kids behind the door and smiled. I turned to the side and looked and the hulking mass beside me. He looked unsure. This is the first time I'm bringing him here, and the first time he's meeting Clint.

I turned back to the door and smiled. It finally opened, Clint greeting us. He was holding Lizzie. I smiled and instantly took her from his arms. "Oh, I see how it is," he said as I propped her on my hip. "She was my best friend two minutes ago."

"Don't worry," I sighed. "You'll get over it." He smiled and I turned my attention to Lizzie. She wrapped her arms around my neck and I leaned into her hug. "Clint, this is-"

"Frank Castle," he finished. I saw Frank straighten out of the corner of my eye. "I watch the news."

"From New York?" I asked, unbelieving.

He shrugged. "Someone's got to watch out for you." He turned to Frank and offered his hand. Frank hesitantly took it. "Clint Barton."

"Frank."

I glanced at him before looking at Clint, "here, is Alison's boyfriend." I didn't even have to look, I could feel Frank glaring at me. Clint looked baffled, speechless. It's a good look on him. "Alison?" he asked. "Like, our Alison? Like," he held up his hand to show a measure of height, about equal with his shoulders, "Alison?"

I smiled. "Yes, Dork. Now, let us in, it's freezing."

"Oh, yeah." He swung the door open and we walked inside. "Make yourselves at home." He led the way into the house. "Try not to trip on the toys." He turned to face us as his kids ran past. "Hey, get back here a sec." They protested but walked over anyway. They came up to me and I gave them each side hugs with my free arm. "These are my kids- well, two of them: Cooper and Lila."

They both looked up at Frank expectantly, but he just gave them a cold stare. I rolled my eyes, sure to sigh loud enough for Frank to hear my annoyance. "Go on, you two," I said. They thanked me for relieving them and then ran off. I looked at Clint. "Where's Nate?"

He smiled. "You better not let Laura hear you call him that." He turned and headed for the kitchen.

"Ugh, you two," I sighed, following quickly. "What is wrong with nicknames?" It was rhetorical, which is good because no one was planning on answering me. I entered the kitchen and was greeted with Laura's smile. She was cooking something with Nate in a baby bouncer, sound asleep on the kitchen counter. He's still very much hot off the press. He's only roughly three months old.

"Dani!" Laura said, walking up to me arms stretched. "I didn't know you were coming!"

I wrapped my arms around her, embracing her hug. "Oh, really?" I glared at Clint deeper in the kitchen. "Clint's known for, like, five days now." She pulled away and turned to glare at Clint. He was stuffing his face with something he'd picked off of some dish.

"What?" he shrugged. We rolled our eyes and laughed. Laura's gaze shifted over my shoulder. I turned around and saw Frank walking in. He stopped not too far in the doorway, taking it all in. "Oh," Laura said. "I didn't know you'd have company, either. Which is fine-"

"Yeah, apparently there's a lot Clint DIDN'T tell you."

"Hey, I've been busy," he said.

"Doing what? You're retired," I said. He shrugged and smiled, putting something else in his mouth. Laura glanced at him before turning back to us. I bent down and put Lizzie on the ground. The weight was starting to get to me. I know It's not much, but technically I'm still supposed to be recovering.

"So," Laura said. "This your new boyfriend?" She had a look that told me she was joking.

"No, Alison's." I looked at Frank. "Maybe." I turned back. "Long story. But, this is Frank."

She instantly held her hand out to him. "Nice to meet you, I'm Laura."

Frank took her hand. He still seemed really unsure about all of this. Like when you bring a cat home for the first time. They'll enter the house and look around, but one wrong move and they're under the couch for a week. That's what this is like. And Frank's the cat. "Ma'am," he nodded. Laura slightly grinned at me before heading back over to the sink.

I tapped Frank's stomach with the back of my hand to get his attention. He looked down at me. "This," I pointed to the baby, "is Nate."

"Nathaniel," both Clint and Laura said at the same time.

"Oh, my gosh!" I rolled my eyes. "You two are crazy. I have rights."

"What rights?" Clint asked.

"The special auntie kind." I sat down at the island while Clint laughed. I pulled Lizzie up and sat her next to me. "Just like you have special rights with Lizzie."

"I'm the cousin."

"There, see? You have no rights." I shrugged a smirk. He laughed.

"So," Laura spoke up to break up the conversation and start a new one. She does it all the time. And I think you can see why. "Frank," she finished with the dishes and then dried her hands, turning to face him. "How do you know Dani?" I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. I looked that way and saw Clint. He was shaking his head and slightly waving his hands. I inwardly scoffed.

He didn't tell her about Frank. Like, anything. He told her nothing. "Work," I chimed in before he could answer, looking down at Lizzie. I kept my head down while looking up at Frank. He was looking between me and Clint. I think he got the idea.

"Oh, really? What do you do?" She was purposely asking Frank the question. Clint went frantic again, creating his own wind current. She glanced that way and he quickly stopped. He smiled innocently, and then she turned back to Frank. She was looking at him expectantly.

"He's an avid hunter," I said. She looked slightly confused. "And, he's worked with S.H.I.E.L.D." She nodded.

"Okay. I see," she said. "It's classified."

"Something like that," Frank said. She looked at him and then nodded.

"Actually," I said, looking at Frank, "we need to go unpack." I hopped off the chair, talking Lizzie with me. I swung her onto my hip, making a beeline past Frank and out of the kitchen.

"Dinner's in an hour," she called. Great. This will be fun.