A/N: Trigger warning!
"Train's coming but I'm stuck on this road
Moon's rising and my blood is growing cold
Preacher man can't save a soul like mine
Miracles are just too damn hard to find."
- Ain't Gonna Drown, Elle King
The neon sign above the diner flashed in bright lights, the bell above the door dinging as she entered. It was late, nearing two in the morning with only three customers inside. A couple sat in a corner booth, snuggled up and recovering from their night partying with a lone man sitting at a booth facing forwards. A porcelain white cup sat cradled in his hands as he brought the warm substance to his lips, enjoying the quiet of the diner. The sounds of pots and pans clanged in the back with the smell of bacon grease filling the air. The waitress sat behind the counter, calculating the day's profits. She looked up at the sound of the bell and nodded in greeting to the latest customer, silently telling her to take a seat.
The young woman gave a half smile in return and walked through the aisle, settling down across from the man with the baseball cap. He looked at her from above the edge of his cup, lifting his brow in question. She coughed, ignoring his stare and laid her purse down beside her on the booth.
The waitress walked over with a notepad in hand. Her pink apron wrapped around her waist was stained with ketchup and coffee. The name on the tag pinned to her shirt read "Elizabeth" and her curly hair trickled out of her bun. Her blue eyes were plagued with exhaustion and she offered a tired smile, probably working the graveyard shift for the second night in a row.
"What can I get you tonight, sweetheart?"
The young woman looked down at the menu before her, eyes scanning down the breakfast options.
"How's your French Toast?"
"Best one in the city."
The brunette smiled, already knowing that it's the response every diner within the city says about its food. A television played in the corner with the newscaster reporting on a pursuing car chase between the police and a driver in a black vehicle.
"I'll just have a cup of Earl Grey to start off with, please. Thank you." She said, handing over the menu back to the older woman. The woman nodded and left to the kitchen to put some water to boil.
Riley Cohen sat back against the cushion of the booth and crossed her arms, biting her lip. She could feel the intense stare of Frank Castle upon her, but she wasn't ready to fully look at him just yet. She taped her nails against the table, eyes wondering around the restaurant to find something to distract herself with. Her options were limited and she knew that she was taking the coward way out. She decided to focus her attention on the salt and pepper shakers on the edge of table until the waitress returned. The waitress obviously didn't pick up on the tension surrounding the table since she quickly came back, placing a cup full of boiling water in front of her. A bag of Earl Grey tea rested beside it on a small plate with a spoon and variety of sugar packets.
"Would you like a refill, sir?" she asked, holding a fresh pot of coffee in her other hand. He nodded at her, holding it in the air for her to refill before she went to check on the couple in the corner.
Riley took her time in opening the tea bag and placing it inside the cup, watching the water swirl into a murky brown. The same color matched the eyes of the one and only Frank Castle, whom was sitting across from her, trying to enjoy his own cup of coffee before she came and intruded on his privacy.
He was waiting for her to make the first move and placed his cup to the side, crossing his fingers on the table like an interrogator ready to interview its next suspect. A few bruises marked his face, shadowed over by the baseball cap that he wore.
"You're a hard man to find, Frank." She laughed, hoping he'd be receptive to a positive approach.
"That's the goal," he said, his gruff voice sending goose bumps down her arms.
Two weeks ago she never would have believed that she would be sharing a booth with Hell's Kitchen's latest vigilante, but she also had a tighter grip on her own sanity back then. She knew what he was capable of though, which is the reason why she was here, in need of his services. A small voice in the back of her head warned her to be cautious around him, but she quickly hushed it. He didn't have any reason to hurt her—it wasn't his style.
Still, it was probably best not to annoy him.
"Why are you here?"
"Can't a woman enjoy some company while drinking a late night tea?"
The look on his face told her otherwise. Shit (so much for not bothering him).
Riley lifted her cup and blew on the liquid, taking a light sip. The boiling tea burned her tongue and she quickly put it back down to cool. She should have planned this better or at least practiced her speech. Frank was growing inpatient.
"Can we cut the crap here, lady, and get to the point?"
She winced, already knowing that this wasn't going to a great start.
"I…I need you to get someone. To do—you know, what you do."
"I'm not a hit man."
Without thinking about it, a laugh bubbled up out of her throat. She lifted her tea again, giving her hands something to hold on to. "You sure about that? I don't mean to be rude, but your current record begs to differ."
"Yeah, well, I'm not going to just put a hit on someone because some broad with a pretty smile and a handful of cash brings up my 'history'."
Riley exhaled a deep breath out of her nose, understanding his point of view. She already knew coming into this that he may need some sort of persuasion; she just hoped that it wouldn't take much.
"Ok. First of all, I don't have that much saved in the bank so money isn't my greatest commodity. We'd have to find a way to work something else out. My point is, I know you're a man of morals—in your own sort of way. Please, I-I wouldn't be here if I didn't have anywhere else to go. You're my last hope."
Frank remained quiet, sitting back in his seat and glancing out the window of the diner. A few moments passed and he moved his hand, motioning for her to "go on". Riley took this as her opportunity so she quickly looked around to make sure no one was paying attention to their conversation before leaning forward and lowering her voice.
"His name is Sean O'Connell. We used to be…involved, but things changed. He started getting possessive, cutting me off from my friends, and refused to let me leave his sight. If he wasn't with me then he started sending one of his men to follow me, making sure I wasn't doing anything that they didn't like." Riley let out a bitter chuckle and tried taking another sip of her drink. "Turns out there are a lot of things that they weren't too happy about."
"O'Connell…he's one of the Irish. I took 'em out already." Frank commented, referencing back to the massacre two months ago.
The brunette nodded, verifying his story. Reports had been plastered all over the news but she also knew that it was only a matter of time before shit really hit the fan. She felt immense relief when she discovered Sean's family had been taken out, even if that made her question her own character. The Irish were loyal—incredibly so—and she received multiple bouquets of flowers per his request onto her doorstep one too many times. It unnerved her that they kept track of her for him, knowing where she lived even when switching apartments to a better part of the city.
"It was a gathering of them, but it wasn't the whole family. Sean and a few others have been in the big pin; you might have gotten more acquainted with them if you hadn't broken out so fast." She whispered the last part, sitting up and smiling at the waitress as she walked passed to deliver a plate of food to the couple in the corner.
"They-they've been in there for the last two years so I'm not surprised that they weren't on your radar. I guess I just expected everything to go away, to go back to normal when you got rid of the rest. Wishful thinking though," she scoffed, glaring down at the table. "They killed my brother. That's what landed them in there in the first place. I was tired of all his shit, especially when I found out who his family really was. I swear I didn't know until it was too late. Anyways, I finally called my brother one night at work and told him what was going on, asking him if he could come pick me up and take me back to our old parents' house. Jaxon, he…he showed up the next day. I knew Sean was having a family meeting that night so we had a small window. I had already packed my things in a bag and loaded everything into his truck, just about to take off when they showed up. One of them must have been watching the apartment because they…they shot him."
The television continued, the newscaster announcing that they had caught the black vehicle when it crashed into a fire hydrogen. Firefighters worked to shut the valve off and prevent more water from spilling into the streets as police arrested the man, dragging him out of the car when he refused to get out on his own. Riley glanced up at it, trying to push down the emotions plaguing down on her.
"The police told me that they would pay for their crimes when they took them all into custody. According to their testimonies, Sean wasn't the one to actually shoot him so he's been let out on parole for good behavior."
"You think he's coming back for you?" Frank asked, his face void of expression.
Riley ran a hand through her hair and slumped back in her seat. "I have a restraining order but we both know that those are shit. I've seen him in the crowd, watching me from afar. It's only a matter of time before he makes his move. I tried telling the cops but there's too many things happening in Hell's Kitchen than for them to take care of a 'paranoid girl and her ex-boyfriend.''
"Why not go to Red? Isn't this more up his alley?"
"Sure, then what? He gets his ass kicked and handed over to the police before being let out again? Daredevil believes in the law; that the justice system actually gives a damn about its civilians. I've tried it and it's failed. The law can't protect me anymore."
Frank sat in silence, studying the woman before him. Her eyes were swollen from lack of sleep and her foot continued taping on the floor, getting ready to sprint out if needed. He brought the cup to his lips, drinking the last drops of coffee left at the bottom. It soothed his dry throat and he beckoned to the waitress for his check.
"Sorry. I don't settle domestic disputes. Not my area."
"Domestic di—what the hell are you talking about? I just told you that he—"
"Have a good night, lady." He said, dropping cash down on the table for the waitress to pick up.
Riley watched in shock as he turned around and walked out of the diner, disappearing into the night. Her tea sat forgotten as she placed her head in her hands, hair fanning out across the table. Her heart beat fast against her chest and her breathing quickened, nearing hyperventilation. What was she supposed to do now? Going to the Punisher had been a desperate move—she knew that—but she didn't expect him to walk out on her. Maybe she had, but she really didn't know what to expect at all. His response, however, threw her for a whirlwind. The man splashed across news screens and online papers was depicted as one that vowed revenge on those that hurt his family and all others that committed foul crimes and got away with it; where was that man?
Rubbing her face, Riley eventually stood up and placed her own money on the table to pay for her tea. The waitress leaned against the counter with her head in the palm of her hand, drowsy eyes battling to shut. Riley hoped the woman would be relieved of her shift soon so she could go home and get some rest. Sleep was something that had evaded her lately, fearful that Sean would come in her apartment at the dead of night. She hated living in fear.
The drive back to her apartment in the center of Hell's Kitchen didn't take long, but each red light felt like a life sentence. Ordinary citizens of the city existed during the day, already tucked comfortably inside heir homes at this time of evening. The moon weighed heavily above the sky without a cloud in sight, shadowing over the crimes committed in the dark. There was no city curfew but Riley sometimes felt like there should be. Vigilantes like Daredevil and The Punisher existed to wipe out these criminals, to put them in the pin or the ground—for good. Some criminals were created in the dark, forced to resort into thieving to survive. She wasn't scared of them (those that fought to survive); she was worried of those that enjoyed the fear. The ones that thrived off the power of the night. She always used to think that she was one of them, allowing the moon to provide her solstice and peace. Back home she would take many drives throughout the back roads of her town without a care in the world, but not here. If you're driving through Hell's Kitchen then you're on your way to your destination or you're looking for trouble. There is no in between.
Riley turned up the volume to one of the mixed CDs shoved inside the player to keep her calm, but her mind continued to race. She was angry with Frank Castle for ignoring her like it was nothing, frustrated at herself for even thinking that he would care to listen, and becoming numb at the idea of truly being alone. It was something that she thought about a lot lately. She didn't mind spending time with herself, shutting herself up inside her house or taking walks through the day on her breaks off work. Her father always told her that she needed to enjoy her own company, independent of needing someone to hold her hand. She understood that, but he didn't know that he would be leaving her; that her whole family would be ripped away from her.
The garage dedicated to her apartment complex was packed with residents, each apartment only allowed to have one vehicle each. Luckily everyone knew to leave her spot available for her. Something about taking the parking away from a nurse at Metro General Hospital fought against their moral conduct. One of the teenage residents living inside the apartment on the second floor was having a party again. They went to the local community college and organized an event inside their small apartment at least once a week. The extra cars in the lot that blocked in the spots were further evidence that tonight was one of those nights.
It was Thursday, a common evening for them to throw one on. Riley had surprisingly been invited to a couple of them, but it was mostly due to the fact that she was normally walking up to her apartment at 3am after a late shift at work. The college guys got a kick out of knowing that she was a nurse, always asking if she would take care of them if they were to accidentally hurt themselves in their drunken states.
Riley climbed up the stairs towards her apartment on the fifth floor. The elevator in the building had been broken for almost a year now and the landlord had no intention of fixing it. Luckily the fifth floor wasn't as high up as some of the others, but it still gave her a bit of a workout. As expected, music thumped through the hallway when she rounded up the second floor. The door was closed however, muffling the sounds of the party ragers inside. Some of the older neighbors filed complaints about the noise when the students had first moved in, but they were nice enough. Riley once saw one of the boys help carry a bag of groceries up for the elderly couple that lived on the first floor.
She held her key firmly in her hand, cautiously stepping into her apartment when she reached her floor. It looked empty but it still didn't stop her from inspecting for intruders. The switchblade her brother gave her when she was seventeen dangled from her keychain as she peered around corners but no one was there. Releasing a sigh of relief, she placed her keys onto the kitchen counter and flicked on some lights. The windows were closed but her blinds were pulled up, exposing the lights of distant billboards and office buildings in some of the city's surrounding skyscrapers. Her apartment complex nestled comfortably within the urban jungle, lost amongst the rest of the concrete.
Pulling her jacket off and tossing it on the chair, Riley unhooked her bra and started sliding the straps down her shoulders. It had been a long, draining night. The idea of taking a hot shower and putting on some comfy clothes before crawling into bed sounded like utter bliss. She undid her jeans and threw them on her bed, grabbing a pair of fresh undergarments and pjs on her way to the bathroom.
Steam from the shower head quickly filled the room and she stepped in, allowing herself to decompress. The pressure of the water massaged her scalp and she closed her eyes, letting it cleanse her of her sins before washing up. The smells of her apple harvest body wash made her smile, its familiar scent reminding her of home. The days of walking through the apple orchards with her family were long over but they were memories that she would cherish forever. It felt strange, thinking back to old days full of laughter and jokes at the dinner table. She was the last remaining member of her family, the only one left to continue their family name. When she was younger she played with the idea of eventually marrying someone and having children of her own, but the thought of falling into the roles that she planned for herself were long gone. She couldn't see herself walking down the aisle like some of her friends from school had or getting pregnant and taking care of another life. Riley could hardly handle her own safety and well being, nonetheless having a child to protect as well.
Twenty minutes later, the young woman dried off and pulled on the black t-shirt and pair of red cotton shorts she brought with her. The mirror above the sink was fogged with steam and she didn't bother wiping it off, instead taking her finger and drawing a happy face. The small illustration stared back at her, willing her to accept its subliminal messaging. She needed to move past this and get on with her life, accepting it into her own hands.
Riley pulled her wet hair over to her left shoulder and began towel drying it, exiting the bathroom. It was dark, the room covered in its blanket of shadows with only the light from the distant lights flickering in. She looked around, wondering if the power had gone off as she remembered leaving the lights on. Cautiously, she took a step forward, walking towards the lamp near her couch.
A cold feeling seeped through her bones instinct telling her that something was off. Before she could react properly, two large arms encircled her around the waist and roughly pulled her back to her assailant's chest.
"God, I've missed that smell." He said, inhaling a large scent of her freshly washed hair.
Riley froze, recognizing the sound of his voice anywhere.
Sean continued planting kisses on her neck as tears began to pool in her eyes. She released a cry of pain when he hungrily bit her earlobe, swiftly turning her around to face him. The towel in her hands fell and she placed her hands on his shoulders, trying to push him away.
The dim light coming from the window produced little, but she was able to make out the features of his face. What she used to view as handsome and charming was now tainted with smugness and disgust. Stubble coated his jaw for going a few days without shaving and his hair had recently been cut. Through the thin surface of his shirt, she could feel the bulges of strong muscle that hadn't been there before. He had bulked up during his time in the pin and his harsh grip tightened around her, forcing their chests together. She started to shake, knowing that any possible noise she made would probably be drowned out with the sounds coming from the party downstairs.
Sean tsk-ed and lifted a gentle hand under her chin, nudging it up so she could look him in the eye. He shook his head in pity, resting their foreheads together like lovers that were reuniting after a long journey.
"Don't cry, love, you know how much it pains me to see you like that. Shhh, I'm here. There's no need to be sad now."
Lifting her head, she glared at him with as much hate as she could muster in one expression. "You killed my brother."
Sean's jaw hardened and she felt his fists clench before taking a few breaths, and retreating back to his previous composure. "He was trying to take you away from me. I had to get ride of him; you understand that, don't you? My sweet, sweet Riley."
The Irishman wrapped a hand in her damp hair, pulling her forward so her head rested against his chest. She could hear the steady beat of his heart as he placed his head on top of her own, swaying side to side. Sean began to hum quietly to himself and she wanted nothing else but to rip his beating heart out of his chest. Her eyes scanned the room, wondering what she could grab to use to get rid of him for good. The switchblade attached to her keychain still rested on the kitchen counter and she wondered if she could get him to move that way. Sean must have realized where her thoughts were going because he pulled back, bending down slightly to be eye level.
His green eyes drank her in. Sean reached a hand out, tucking her hair behind her ear when it fell in front of her eyes. Riley turned her face to the side when he leaned in, his lips hitting her cheek. They were chapped, she could tell, and the dry skin scraped against her like a blade.
"Go to hell."
Sean threw his head back and barked out a laugh. "Darling, this is Hell's Kitchen! We're already here. Now, c'mon, be a good girl and give me a kiss. I haven't tasted you in what—almost two years?"
She refused to budge and he rolled his eyes, annoyed at her behavior. His hand still gripped the back of her head and he turned her towards him, crashing his lips against hers. It ignited some weird spark within him because he slightly loosened his grip, cradling her face in the palms of his hands. Riley went along with it, feeling the bastard slip his tongue into her mouth. She bit down on it. Hard.
He quickly recoiled, raising a fist and knocking her in the jaw.
"How dare you, you bitch. I spent two years in the pin for you, two fucking years and how do you repay me? You get a restraining order. Ha! I had a real laugh at that one. Riley, Riley, Riley. You're not very smart are you? You're mine and always will be."
"I'd rather die than let you touch me."
Sean's eyes widened with excitement and dug his fingers into her hips, adding to her latest collection of bruises.
"Wanna bet?" he whispered, licking the side of her face.
The sick delight evident in his eyes sent a shiver down her spine. Sean slipped his hands underneath her shirt, peeling it off her skin and groping her chest. The other explored her stomach, dipping down toward her cotton shorts. Riley struggled against him, shaking her head like a wild woman whenever he moved in for a kiss. He was stronger though, stronger than he ever had been. Roughly he shoved her onto the floor, the impact immediately sending pain up her knees before face planting onto the floor. She hurriedly tried to crawl away toward the kitchen, yelling when he pulled back. Her nails dug in the floor in vain when she heard him undo his zipper and yank his pants to the ground.
"Do you know how long I've waited for this?" he taunted, leaning over her back. "I often dreamed of it when in my cell. Those late nights were always the hardest when I laid in bed and thought of feeling you, touching you."
"Get off me!" she cried, feeling him adjust himself against her. She was petrified, frantically withering on the floor. His heavy grip held her torso, anchoring her to the floor.
The front door of the apartment slammed open right when he about to take the plunge, a large mass of black ripping him away from her. Riley collapsed on the floor, pressing her face into the cool ground. Sean yelled a string of curses and let out multiple grunts of pain when the blunt of a gun collided with his face repeatedly, but she ignored them. The sound of something hitting flesh and the crunching of bone filled the air until the apartment was filled with a heavy silence.
Riley remained on the floor, holding her knees to her chest, and stared straight ahead until a pair of black boots stopped in front of her. They were worn and the soles were covered in blood and dirt. The laces had seen better days and needed to be replaced. She took note of everything, even the slight squeak they made when the owner crouched down.
"Hey."
His soft, yet hoarse voice broke her out of the trance that she was in. Sitting up, she stared at his bloodstained face. He was looking at her like a wounded animal—no doubt wondering if he should just shoot her dead to put her out of her misery—and it made something in her snap.
"Where were you?" she asked, not at all fazed by the fact that the blood on his face belonged to the man on the floor a few feet away. The dead man.
"Where were you?" she repeated, threatening on the edge of hysteria as she punched him in the chest. It felt good, taking out her anger and frustration on him. He didn't say a word as she began a whole new wave of punches, using the skull painted on his chest as her main target. Frank accepted her assault in continuous silence until her arms tired and dropped to her side.
The hollow feeling was beginning to fade and she struggled to catch her breath. Putting an arm on Frank's shoulder for support, she pulled herself up to a standing position and wobbled over to wear Sean lied in a puddle of his own blood. His face was unrecognizable with his cheeks sunken into his skull, the edges of his lips barely visible. Glaring at him, Riley leaned over and spat on his face. The saliva mixed in with his blood and she kicked him for good measure.
She should have been repulsed by the mutilated face and dead corpse leaking blood onto her living room floor, but she felt that justice had finally been served. The bastard murdered her brother and almost raped her. He dared to strike her with his fists and she knew that he wouldn't be allowed to hurt anyone else ever again. He deserved this.
"You're an asshole." She said, turning towards Frank Castle as he stood off to the side of the room. He moved to sit in her favorite armchair, sinking into the cushions and laying his head back so he faced the ceiling.
"So I've been told," he said, shutting his eyes and rubbing his sleeve across his red streaked face.
"You walked out of the diner and said you weren't going to help me."
"I was in the area."
Riley scoffed and walked towards him with her hands on her hips. This was all so surreal. She took a glance around the room, zoning in on the window and turning back towards the Punisher that rested on her armchair. His eyes were closed and she briefly wondered if he would fall asleep like that. Her gaze continued to flick back and forth while the wheels began to turn in her head, linking everything together.
He had been watching her.
"Fuck."