Frank Castle / The Punisher
Frank Castle woke to a splitting headache, which was something of a surprise because he didn't expect to wake at all. When the kid had said the cryptic words of not being given a break, Frank hadn't caught on. It wasn't until they were in f*cking midair off the building and a series of explosions started, Frank realized what a fool he was to think Russo didn't have a backup plan in place.
While Russo appeared to be mentally unstable, the man was still the same person Frank worked with in the two tours in Afghanistan. A part of him considered the chance the man might have also been killed in his own blast, but for as long Frank knew Russo, he'd never be that stupid.
Russo was like a bug that you just couldn't kill. If there was ever a time that Frank regretted not ending the bastard's life when he had the chance, it was now. He had wasted it and gone the route of just bashing in the man's face a few times. Okay, maybe it was more than few times. If Frank knew the man was going to come out the f*cking coma with super goddamn powers, he would have made sure to put the man 6 feet under. Instead, the assh*le was running around town killing and hurting the people he cared about. Leo. Zack. Just so he could get back at Frank.
This is all my fault.
As the symphony of explosions timely went off one by one, Frank couldn't help but curse the man.
Such a f*cking artist, Russo.
Russo to add some fun shit to his homemade explosive device, had bounded metal shards to them, making them into shrapnel bombs. So when they exploded, fragments of metal also came along with the blast.
While Frank knew that Spider-Man was doing his best in saving his sorry ass, he knew he was a dead man when a cluster of shrapnel came his way. It was so close to him, that Frank could almost taste the metal. This changed when the kid suddenly changed in trajectory. Like an Olympic athlete, the Spider-Man twisted in mid-air and tossed Frank way from the danger. The move saved Frank's life, because if the kid had missed the beat by a second, he was pretty sure his face would have matched that of Darkman; minus the breathing part.
Kid's a freakin' psychic.
The fall lasted about a second or two - not that Frank was counting - before Spider-Man dove down and caught him. He gripped onto the kid's neck, feeling guilty as hell when he felt the dampness on his forearm. The shoulder wound, it was still bleeding and very badly too. Not only that, but Frank saw that Spider-Man hadn't been able to avoid getting hit by the cluster of scrap metal. The kid's back, from Frank's angle, looked like a bloody mess of metal meeting flesh.
Frank could feel the strain the kid was under, trying desperately to hold on to the webbing that was keeping both of them from falling to their deaths. But the blood loss and the injuries sustained pre and post explosion, it had taken a toll. Frank was pretty sure if it was just the kid himself, he could have handled it. But he, Frank Castle, was weighing the kid down, like a f*cking anchor.
"Kid, let me go," he said.
"No," it was a strained, but damn firm. "No one... no one's dying tonight. I'm not going to let anyone else die, not on my watch."
Frank knew he was referring to the Iron Fist whom Russo had tossed over the side of the building like yesterday's trash.
"Kid-," he started to say when suddenly Frank felt the drop as the Spider-Man lost his grip. It was a second or two before the kid tried again to grip something to slow their fall. He did, but it didn't last long, though this time it was no fault of the kid's at all; the anchor he used broke off. The Spider-Man tried again, but his webshooters were jammed, and suddenly they were falling, at full velocity. The Spider-Man, however, held onto him, making sure that he stayed between the ground and Frank.
Shit.
If Frank didn't know that Spider-Man was a good guy, he wouldn't have cared. If he didn't know that he was also a kid - how old, he couldn't tell from the dim lighting - Frank wouldn't have felt the guilt gutting him as the ground rushed to meet them.
But knowing any of this, it didn't help the situation. They were falling, and falling fast.
And that had been his last memory before he woke with a splitting headache and an audience of three faces - The Iron Fist and two others - peering over him.
"I'll let Claire know he's awake," said one of them, a slender faced Asian woman. The Iron fist nodded, and she disappeared from Frank's view.
"How are you feeling?" Asked the Iron Fist.
"Like I've fallen from a f*cking building, what does it look like?" Then he paused and stared at the Iron Fist, "I guess you are really immortal since you're still standing."
"He used his chi to heal himself," said the other man in the room before he introduced himself.
Healing powers, now that's something pretty useful, mused Frank.
"Hi, I'm Luke Cage. This is Danny, which you probably met already."
"I did," confirmed Frank, "Thanks for your attempt in saving my life," nodding to Danny, "but you need some lessons in aiming. You shot the wrong f*cking guy."
"The other Spider-Man, he just threw him in my line of fire," said Danny indignantly and rather annoyed.
For Frank, however, he didn't really care about hurting the man's feelings. He had had other worries.
"Where's the Spider-Man?"
"The guy's in the other room. He's in pretty bad shape."
"Take me to him," said Frank as he tried to get up. As he did that, Frank felt a wave of nausea overwhelm him.
"Ah, you're not going anywhere, Mr. Castle," said a woman as she entered the room.
Frank stared at her and deduced this must have been the Claire the Asian woman had mentioned. The woman's clothing was covered in blood, and considering she didn't look like she was wounded at all, Frank could only guess whose blood that was.
The kid's.
"Take me to the Spider-Man," he repeated, despite feeling sick to his stomach. Frank wasn't sure if it was because of the concussion he had or if it was thought that the kid he'd been hunting all night could be dead because of him.
Maybe it was both.
Either way, Frank needed to see the kid.
"Look, it's not a good idea -,"
Frank, however, didn't give a crap to what she had to say next, because he'd ripped out the IV and began to move.
He, however, didn't get far. An iron grip landed on his shoulder, one so strong that Frank was pretty sure if any more pressure was applied, his bones would have cracked. The hand belonged to Luke Cage.
Immediately, Frank clued in; vigilantes liked to team up. Just like those damn Avengers. Though nowadays they weren't much of a team at all, given that more than half of them were branded as war criminals. Fun times to be a superhero.
"Just take me to the kid."
There was a moment of startledness in Claire before she responded, "You know his identity?"
Frank nodded and noticed he wasn't the only one surprised in the room. Luke and Danny both had the same questioning look, kid?
"Yeah. The other assh*le, he unmasked the kid. Just... let me see if he's alright," said Frank in a more calmer tone. He noticed that Luke's grip had eased and then eventually, his hand released his shoulder completely.
"Kid saved my life. I just want to make sure he's okay. Please. I don't have any weapons or anything. And if I try anything, I'm sure Luke here can crack me in half."
At that, Claire grinned slightly.
God, these guys have darker humour than me.
"Fine. We'll bring you to him. But in turn, you tell us what happened in that building."
Frank nodded. "Lady, I'll tell you every f*cking detail you wanna know."
Once they entered into the main dojo room, Frank saw the kid's back, where the bandages that Claire had put on him, had soaked through with fresh blood.
F*ck. Russo, when I get my chance to kill you, I'm not letting it go. You are a deadman.
Slowly, Frank approached the unconscious Spider-Man, wary of course of the slender darker haired woman who cradled the kid's head on her lap.
"Why the hell is that assh*le doing here?"
"Take it easy, Jessica, he just wants to see how the man that saved his life was doing," said Luke as he too approached the Spider-Man, no doubt curious of his identity.
With the poor lighting in the building site, and the fact that blood had obscured much of his vision, he had only been able to make out that the Spider-Man was a young. But never did he imagine the kid to be this young.
He's just a child. A goddamn child! Russo, you prick, you put a pipe through this kid?
The scream of agony from the kid when Russo had impaled him with the pipe still echoed in Frank's ears.
A voice spoke up in Frank though, countering his thoughts. Why would you expect him to be any different? You think he grew a soul after he killed your family? The bastard is a f*cking psycho. He'd eat a baby if it benefited him.
Frank slowly settled to the floor, knowing that if he didn't he'd likely fall over.
Russo hadn't lied. F*ck. And Frank himself, he'd been shooting at this kid with god knows how much ammo all night long. And still the boy had had not only taken a f*cking pipe through the shoulder to save Frank, but also a hit of shrapnel to the back and the burnt of a fall that any normal person would have died from.
Feeling his voice caught in his throat, it took him a minute to find it.
"Is he going to live?"
"Not sure yet. I've gotten most of the shrapnel out of him, given him antibiotics to fight off chance of infection... but it's the blood loss I'm worried about," said Claire, clear unease in her voice as she wrapped a fresh set of bandages around the boy.
She must be the resident person that these guys go to for patching up, Frank realized.
"So, Frank, what the hell happened up there?" Claire asked, though still focused on the task on hand.
Frank pursed his lips, still unable to look away from the kid in front of him. Seeing the Spider-Man unmasked with a face of a child underneath, it unsettled Frank more than he led on. Why was this kid out there, risking his life like that, knowing full well that half of New York City was out for his blood?
So what is the story, Frank? Where should you start? From when you started to sniper him down, or when you shocked him with the STARK weapon?
Just as Frank opened his mouth to tell his side of the story, the kid suddenly opened his eyes. Glassy as they were, there was an urgency in them. For some reason, Frank had a feeling it wasn't to greet or thank them. Two words, laced in pain, left the kid's lips that made Frank instantly tense up.
"He's here."
Ah Shit. Story time would have to wait.
