"Had me on both my knees,

Praying to whatever is in heaven, please send me a felon

And don't let the police know

Anything, anything."

-Female Robbery, The Neighbourhood

"You want to carry him out in a rug?"

"Do you have any better ideas?"

Riley scrunched her nose at the prospect of rolling Sean up in the rug and carrying him down five flights of stairs. They would be out in the open and she could list multiple ways in which their plan could go wrong, but she couldn't think of anything else. It's not like she could just toss his body out the window—that would be a disaster. Sadly, they had already discussed it, wondering if the hard impact of the cement could cause such damage to his face, but it had been ruled out. She didn't want anything linking back to her. She just wanted the damn Irishman to be out of her life; even in death he still caused her trouble.

Rest in peace her ass.

Frank knocked on her door at exactly five o'clock, leaving Riley about two hours to prepare herself. Once her shift at the hospital had ended, she bought a slice of pizza, and walked the rest of the way home to avoid the inevitable. Fortunately—or unfortunately since the place reeked—Sean's body was still resting beside her bed with the shades to the window pulled close. Immediately she went to open it, at least just a crack, so that some of the smell would air out. Apparently it wasn't a good idea leaving a decomposing body shut up in her apartment for over ten hours and she couldn't turn on the air conditioner in risk of the scent traveling down the air vents, so the window was the only option.

Riley changed out of her previous clothes and pulled on a pair of worn jeans with a fitted Pink Floyd t-shirt. She had stood in her closet temporarily, wondering what the protocol was to wear when disposing of a dead body, but dismissed the idea. This would have to do. Pulling her hair in a messy bun on top of her head, she left her leather jacket by the door so she could grab it on her way out. With the remaining time she had left, she walked aimlessly around her apartment and even tried flipping through the TV stations to distract herself. It was a blessing when Frank knocked on her door; she had expected him to be late but she supposed his years spent in the military engrained him with the importance of always arriving at the designated time. And she did mean "designated time"—it wasn't even 5:02 p.m.

Frank had changed out of his previous clothes too and she debated asking him where he purchased them and how he paid for it. As far as she knew, vigilantes weren't exactly on the city's pay raise.

"Look, the way I see it, we're killing two birds with one stone. You said you had to get rid of this shit anyways, right? Might as well just wrap him inside."

Frank's logic made sense and they needed to hurry. The longer they waited, the more time they were wasting, especially now that the cops would be patrolling the streets. Friday nights were always eventful in Hell's Kitchen and law enforcement knew to keep an extra eye out for trouble. This normally made Riley feel a little better when going out, but not tonight.

"Let's just do it and get this over with."

Twenty minutes later, Riley found herself lugging her dead ex-boyfriend down the hallway. They had wrapped him tightly inside of the rug and covered the outside with plastic in case they were to drop him so he wouldn't go rolling out on the floor. The plastic made her palms sweat as it slid against her skin and it made it harder to keep hold of him, but she understood why it was necessary.

They were barely starting down the first flight of stairs and she was already feeling out of breath. Luckily, the television inside of Betty's apartment was blasting some cooking show and she didn't ambush them like she did earlier. Frank held Sean's feet and went down the stairwell first while she remained a few steps above, holding onto the portion where his head rested inside. Her ragged breathing only added to her screaming muscles for hardly ever being in use. Why had she canceled that gym membership after refusing to go? Those arm machines would have done her wonders right about now.

Riley struggled to blow a stray hair out of her face while they continued taking each step one at a time.

"Nice and easy," Frank coached, finishing off the first stairwell and beginning the trek down the fourth floor so they could reach the next one. The halls, thankfully, were empty. Most of the people on this floor were already preparing dinner inside of their homes or still hadn't come back yet and were probably out grabbing a drink after work. Riley knew she could go for one when this was all over.

Similar to the previous set of stairs, Frank took a few steps backwards while she held onto the end. The stairwell, however, was littered with abandoned toys from the kids who lived on the floor. They had a bad habit of leaving their crap lying around and Riley looked down, sidestepping a ball. Frank lifted the rug higher above his head so he could skip a stair full of marbles and GI Joes, but Riley's arms shook at the extra strain. The plastic slipped through her fingers, forcing the body to go crashing against the metal stair. Frank hurriedly scrambled to catch it, but it was too much for him, and he let go as the body sailed the rest of the way down. They watched it plummet down the stairs, taking out a few GI Joes in its path, before finally stopping after hitting the nearby wall.

Frank sighed, tiredly running a hand down his face. Riley opened her mouth to apologize but decided against it. He didn't look like he'd fully appreciate hearing her voice right now. He just stared down at the limp rug at the bottom of the stairwell.

"If it's too heavy for you, tell me."

She nodded in understanding, respecting his strained patience. He could have yelled at her or abandoned her there on the stairwell, but he stayed. In fact for the last twenty four hours, Frank Castle could have walked out on her several times and yet continued to go along with her (nonexistent) plans. He may have bickered and complained a bit along the way, but she could deal with that. Despite what others might say, Frank Castle wasn't a monster. Sure he may have a bit of a Frankenstein-thing going on when he grunts and walks around in his combat boots, but if being a monster means helping a good-for-nothing nurse bury her ex-boyfriend then so be it.

She wanted to make him proud though, at least the slightest bit. He had stayed to help her and now it was her turn to fully commit. She would have to push past her non-athleticism and really try.

Climbing down the rest of the stairs, Riley kept her head up in determination, positioning herself between the wall and the rug so she could lift it up at a better angle. Frank moved to the opposite side, giving her a look that asked if she was ready.

The rolled up rug was a lot softer than before, making it more bendable. Riley frowned, holding it tighter to get a better grasp on it before realizing why this side was mushier. She leaned over, biting her tongue to hold back the sudden urge to vomit. Her fingers plunged further into the plastic and she knew Sean's head just became a whole lot more deformed.

"Just pretend it's a sack of potatoes."

"Fucking big sack of potatoes," she grumbled, suppressing the chills of disgust that ran up her spine. She felt woozy and tried to snap out of it, focusing on what Frank said. If she continued to visualize the mess underneath the plastic then she would vomit all over the floor.

Frank chuckled and they rounded the hallway successfully toward the next set of stairs leading to the second floor. She needed a distraction; the potato image was fading.

"How'd it go with Betty this morning?" she asked, curious as to what went on once the door closed and hoping it would keep her mind occupied. There hadn't been any police raiding her apartment and Frank seemed casual about the whole thing, but she wanted to know. Had Betty ever grown suspicious? Did she invite him over for dinner? What did they talk about?

"The packing nuts in the steam screw had loosened over time, so after a quick tightening, she's running like a beauty."

Riley rolled her eyes. "I didn't mean the faucet."

"I know," he said, throwing her a roughish grin.

"You're disgusting."

"Yeah, well, less chatting and more carrying. I'm holding up all the weight on this side so it's the least you can do to."

"This isn't exactly light, you know."

Frank abruptly stopped in front of the final stairwell that led to the first floor, almost making her loose her grip and drop the body again. She scowled, ready to throw a couple colorful phrases at him, when she caught sight of the person walking up the stairs.

It was Derek, one of the college guys that lived in Apartment 2B. His sluggish movements complimented the baggy gray sweatpants and black pullover sweatshirt that he was wearing. Frank shifted his weight to the other foot, annoyed at the twenty-something year old for taking his time and not glancing up from his mobile device.

"Sorry man, didn't see you there." Derek announced, looking up from his phone when he felt Frank's intense stare. Riley knew first hand how unnerving that could be and she watched as he gulped, slightly scurrying his movements before catching sight of her. His face lit up and he put his phone away into the oversized pocket of his sweatshirt, switching the grocery bag to his other arm. "Riley! Hey! How's it going?"

"I'm doing fine, thanks." She huffed, breathless from the strain on her muscles. Hair was spilling out of the bun on top of her head and stuck to her forehead unattractively. The water polo player immediately seemed to realize that she was carrying a heavy load and stepped in to help.

"Here, let me grab that for you."

"No, no! We've got it!"

The mention of the word "we" seemed to remind Derek of Frank because he looked back and forth between them with a frown. Riley noticed him even stand a little taller.

"We didn't see you at the party last night."

Riley struggled to hold onto her side of the rug, the material threatening to slip through her fingers. Her arms were weighing her down, but she couldn't risk dropping the rug again and having Sean's head splatter. They needed to leave.

"I was busy, sorry. It sounded like a ragger though. Maybe next time."

Derek glanced at Frank again, tightening his grip on the brown grocery bag in his arms. Frank licked his lips and met his stare head on. He was slightly shorter than Derek's full six-foot frame, but he was more imposing. The silent conversation continued for a few more moments until Derek broke away, glaring at the floor and pulling his keys out of his pants. Riley was relieved. Their alpha male status showdown (A.M.S.S. for short) was suffocating and her arms threatened to fall off if she held this rug any longer.

Suddenly Derek turned his nose up and sniffed the air, a sour expression contorting his face.

"Do you smell that?"

Riley forced a laugh. "Ms. Rodriguez must be testing her skills in the kitchen again. See ya around, Derek!"

The two quickly made their way down the stairs and carried the rug out of the building without any more interruptions. A black pickup truck sat parked in the loading zone, to which they lugged the body into the bed of it with Frank securing it down with a piece of rope.

"Whose car is this?" she asked, jumping off the bed so Frank could finish tying down the rug to prevent it from rolling all over.

"Ours for the next couple hours."

Riley looked at the bumper stickers that had women posed in their underwear and rolled her eyes, knowing that Frank probably stole the car from someone at a bar. If the driver drank enough then maybe they'd forget where they parked their car and possibly take a taxi home.

Climbing into the passenger seat, she waited for Frank to walk around to the driver's side.

"Your boyfriend's watching us."

Sure enough, when Riley twisted in her seat to look up at the apartment building, she spotted Derek watching them from his window. She raised her hand in a small wave before turning back around in her seat and facing forward.

"He's not my boyfriend."

"Glad to hear it. We might have to be doing this again if he was."

"Shut up," she growled, putting on her seatbelt as he started the ignition and pulled out of the parking space. To get him back for his comment, she plugged her phone into the truck and scrolled through one of her playlists. It didn't take long for her to find the song she was searching for and soon the opening intro of "Jailbreak" by ACDC blasted through the speakers.

Frank shook his head, an amused smirk threatening to cross his lips.

"You've got a fucked up sense of humor."

"I think it's fitting."

/

Frank and Riley drove to the docks, pulling up to an area with abandoned storage units. There was a gate blocking the area so Frank cut the chain down with a pair of bolt cutters. Riley looked around in worry, making sure that there weren't any security guards on watch but Frank didn't look too concerned. He must have checked out the area ahead of time. She had thought that they were going to dump Sean's body in an abandoned grave or something like she saw on so many television shows, but Frank said it was too risky. Instead, he decided on the Hudson. The goal, obviously, was that Sean would never be seen again. For the far chance that he was though, it would hopefully look like someone had just mugged him and tossed his body into the river.

It sounded kind of sloppy to her, if she's being honest, but that was the point.

Grabbing a backpack out from behind his seat, Frank exited the car and hoped into the truck bed. Riley followed and they dragged the rug to the edge before sliding Sean off to land on the floor. It was getting easier lifting him around and whatnot, so they placed him on the gravel near the edge and rolled him out. His face really had taken a toll during his plummet down the stairs and Frank curled his lips up in contempt. She should have been upset by the sight of it, but staring at it felt different than holding it in her hands. The earlier urge to vomit disappeared and she was somehow desensitized at the sight of it, no doubt due to her watching of all those slasher films with her brother on Halloween.

"Hold him by the shoulders while I grab his legs," He told her, lifting him off the rug and kicking the fabric to the side. Placing him on the gravel, Frank opened the black bag and took out a handful of weights. He expertly placed them within the pockets of Sean's clothes and then stepped back, motioning Riley forward.

"Do you want to do the honors?"

Riley looked down at Sean's body and shook her head.

"Together."

Frank nodded and the pair lifted him up one more time, swinging him into the river. The splash upon impact sent a wave of water sailing after them, but at least he made it a couple feet.

"Have a nice trip." Frank commented, watching as the murky water swallowed Sean into its depths.

Riley looked around the harbor with her arms hugging her body. Manhattan's buildings sparkled in the distance, their lights reflecting off the buoy in the water that shifted with the tide. Their bells dinged with the current of the waves and she stepped forward, the breeze ruffling her hair. It was over. She didn't know how deep the river was, but she imagined it to go on for miles. The further Sean's body drifted below, the more the weight began to rise off her chest. Deep beneath the black water hid her darkest secret and now—finally—it all came to an end.

She wouldn't have to fight the courts for justice anymore or constantly walk with her head overlooking her shoulder. Sean's family was either dead or locked in the pin and none of them would come looking for her. Sean couldn't touch her and now, for the first time in a long time, she felt free.

Frank moved behind her and laid out the bloodied rug that was spotted with dirt and grim from being tossed around. She took a step back, watching as he bent down with a box cutter and began tearing the material into thick strips. Riley crouched down next to him and he handed her an extra cutter, allowing her to begin on the other side. The strips curled backwards and looked like miniature scrolls, matted with blood and pebbles.

"We'll drive a few blocks before dumping these into the bins." Frank said, standing up and dropping a few of them into the back of the truck.

Riley stared at Frank, thankful that he was there with her. She couldn't have done this on her own. Pretty soon they climbed back into the truck and left the harbor behind. They drove a couple miles away from the river toward a particularly sketchy side of Brooklyn. It was known for being responsible of a good portion of the overall city's crime rate. They quietly pulled into an alley behind a run down apartment complex. A homeless man down the way looked at the truck curiously and eventually moved on, retreating back into the shadows of the alley. Frank clamored out, tossing the strips of rug inside, before sparking a match and dropping it inside. The strips of rug caught on fire, burning away any potential evidence.

Riley watched the flames grow bigger until Frank shut the lid, containing it.

/

The drive back towards the center of the city was a slow one with the traffic of Friday night beginning to pick up. An expanse of brake lights flashed back at them while they stopped at a red light. Riley pressed her forehead against the cool glass window, observing those on the sidewalk. A group of girls out for a night in the town sauntered past with two of them stumbling over a pothole, laughing as their friends caught them and continued to stagger in their high heels. It was nearing ten o'clock and like many of Hell's Kitchen's population, the night was just beginning for them.

The red light switched and Frank eased on the gas, leaving the girls behind them as they continued down the street. Riley watched them fade away in the rearview mirror. She didn't have girlfriends to call up or family members to spend time with on nights like this. Hell, don't even get her started on her love life—she just dropped her ex-boyfriend at the bottom of the river. Still, she didn't feel self-pity. It was lonely sometimes, just being by herself, but it was also strangely reassuring.

Frank had a family once. He owned the white picket fenced house with a wife and kids. They probably even had a dog that would come barreling into the kitchen table while they all laughed and enjoyed each other's company. That small slice of heaven had all been ripped away from him though, just as hers had been shattered too. Were they destined to meet here? They were both alone in this world. No one to depend on. No one to worry about them. They had committed a crime together and they had no one to hurt, but themselves. It relieved her, knowing that her parents wouldn't be questioned or be asked what their baby girl's relations were with the man in the river or the one sitting beside her driving through the traffic of Hell's Kitchen.

It made sense to her now, the implied recklessness of Frank's actions. Why he didn't care about going to prison…there was no one waiting for him. If he were to spend the rest of his life in the king pin then who would mourn? Who would wait? Who would visit? The only people that would send letters were probably admirers of his work or women displaying explicit photos of themselves along with proposals of marriage for the man avenging his family.

"This isn't the first time we met, you know."

The thought had resurfaced a lot for her today, especially now that she felt comfortable in his presence. Frank peered over at her, waiting for her to continue. She watched as the dark clouds above opened, dropping a few sprinkles of rain against the window and blurring her vision of the outside.

"I worked that night when you came to the hospital. I had just finished checking on some of the patients, getting ready to call it in for the night when you rounded the corner. It-it's funny. I heard the screams and nearly fell over in the stamped of people rushing for the exits, but somehow I knew there wasn't a point in it. You were there for a reason; your steps too determined. I watched you fire the shots into the air, but you were there for one person. One target." Riley turned away from the rain to look at him, watching as he navigated through the next street. "Did you get 'em? The person you were looking for."

Frank licked his lips and met her gaze with a brief turn of the head. "Yeah. I did."

"One of your shots hit a woman in the stomach."

"I didn't mean for that."

Riley nodded. "I know. I just…I feel like it's a world away. Shit, the last 24 hours have been something. I can't even remember what I ate yesterday."

"Are you hungry?"

The sudden question seemed like an invitation and Riley let it linger in the air, leaning her head back against the seat. Frank continued looking ahead, changing the radio station to one that played a Led Zeppelin song. Did he want to spend more time with her or was he making conversation? Frank wasn't a man of many words though. She knew that he said each word with precision and meaning.

"I'm alright. I think I just need to crawl into bed and sleep for the next two weeks."

Frank chuckled and nodded his head in agreement. The sounds of "When the Levee Breaks" filled the space and Riley closed her eyes, slowly feeling herself drift off. All too soon, Frank pulled up in front of her apartment and cut the engine. The radio shut off when he pulled the keys out, the sounds of rain surrounding them. She opened her eyes, staring up at the massive building while he scanned the streets for any suspicious characters.

"You did good today."

Riley paused in unclicking her seatbelt and smirked. "Is that a compliment?"

"Don't count on it."

The rain continued to fall in a steady rhythm, pelting down on the roof of the car. She looked out, judging how far the door to the apartment building was, and if she would be drenched by the time she got there. Her hand rested on the handle of the door, but she stopped herself from getting out.

"Thank you, Frank. For everything. I really owe you for this."

The man made a grunting noise in recognition, taping his thumb on the steering wheel. She was probably more trouble than it was worth, but she truly was grateful. If Frank hadn't helped her then she might have been the body being dropped in the river. She glanced back at him, taking in his features for memory. Frank continued taping to an unknown beat and didn't make any references to her paying him back. This was it. He had helped her and now it was time to move on.

Why did she feel so disappointed?

Opening the car door, Riley stepped out into the rain.

"Good night, ma'am."

Goodbye Frank.

A/N: Fear not, this is only the beginning. ;)