Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was an achingly beautiful spring morning, and Karen Page, Chief Editor of the Midtown High School News, was considering dropping out of school.

Karen had established herself as the greatest writer in Midtown, if not in all of Vermont. Last issue's State Basketball Championship story had been an absolute knockout. Karen perfectly balanced the staggering excitement and pride of the school with the sweet sentiment and mutual respect between the teammates.

Half the school forgot that the team lost. She'd even heard mention of a nomination for a statewide award, which would greatly improve her odds for winning scholarships.

Now that the bar was set high, Karen felt the noose begin to tighten. Only four more publications remained for the year. Each had to be stellar if she had any hope of paying for college.

And sadly, there was absolutely nothing for Karen to write about. Every topic was exhausted, from club events to biographies on new teachers. She could've written about caps and gowns finally coming in, but they had milked the sentimental senior angle all year with "Last Fall Formal" and "Last Taco Tuesday of the Winter" pieces. There just wasn't enough substance left in that category.

She took off her thick-framed glasses and rested her head in her hands a moment. The early morning sun was beating down on her through the window, leaving her warm, frustrated, sleepy.

"Working hard or hardly working, Page?" Mr. Ellison, English teacher and overseer of the newspaper, retreated from his office just to refill his coffee.

"I'm done," Karen answered in defeat, looking up from her hands.

He poured his cup, "Do you not have anything at all?"

"Not enough happens at this school," she grumbled, mashing the keyboard keys.

"You at least have the other content for this issue don't you?" he rubbed his forehead.

"It's all been turned in," she held up the other stories, "Just no headliner."

"You could always go for a fluff piece on the new leaves and flowers outside. Do some bullshit with metaphorical change or something. You'd make some seniors and their parents cry on that one," he recommended dully.

She groaned and looked over at the pictures on the wall of past student editors and settled her eyes on the newest portrait.

Ben Urich was all the way at Oxford now. He only ever flew home for the most important holidays, and even then he only spent time with his girlfriend, Dolores.

Ben passed the torch on to her, and Karen spent every waking moment trying to make him proud. It was at times like these she wished she could talk to him face to face again, not just in a hurried exchange over the phone.

"I need something good, Mr. Ellison," she finally responded to him.

"I need something by tomorrow, so you better start."

Karen spent her morning classes ignoring her lectures on History and Chemistry in favor of scratching new article ideas in her notepad.

"New Locker Rumors: Fact or Fiction?" was too loosely based, and just generally boring.

"Why Are Foggy and Marci Still Together?" was completely inappropriate and unprofessional.

"Does Matt Like Me Or Just Feel Bad For Me?" was too personal and would never be solved.

She was resolved to just go for the springtime piece when she sat down for lunch.

The cafeteria was abuzz with calzones, and the accompanying chorus of "oooohs" and "ahhhhs" that came almost solely from Foggy.

Claire sat next to her, picking at the meal and muttering about all the grease and health concerns.

"Have you seen the new kid?" Marci set her tray down on the table loudly.

"New kid? What's that?" Foggy asked sarcastically.

"He's transferred from out of state."

"How cool, other states," Foggy mocked.

"I bet he's handsome," Marci sighed, looking pointedly at Foggy.

"Why is this kid so interesting to everyone?" Foggy sounded jealous.

"People want to hear about each other, it's exciting."

Karen dropped her pen.

This was it.

"Where is this kid?" Karen asked Marci immediately.

"Wow, you guys, don't be so eager," Foggy laughed nervously.

"No, I need to know, this would be perfect for the paper," Karen frantically closed her notebook and clutched it to her chest.

"He just left my physics class, so you better hurry," Claire answered with a mouth full of food.

"Great," she snatched her pen and ran down the hallway, deftly dodging underclassmen.

One of the main advantages Karen had found to almost being 6 feet tall was the ability to see over everyone's heads. She scanned the faces of everyone she passed and frantically looked for someone new. In a moment of clarity she found him, the only unfamiliar face in the hall.

He met eyes with her and she started to wave frantically. He was tall too, with cropped dark hair and angular features. His expression was tense and decidedly unwelcoming. She ignored this easily.

In a few strides, she was face to face with him, hardly believing her luck.

"Hi," she greeted him, slightly out of breath. "I'm Karen."

"Yeah," he looked her up and down, his expression unchanging. "Hi." He kept walking.

She was caught off guard a little by his coolness. "Today's your first day, right?" she asked, walking next to him.

"Obviously," he answered, keeping his head facing forward.

"I'm the Editor for the school paper, and I thought maybe I could do a welcome piece, just get a little blurb about you," she asked quickly, not stopping to take breaths.

"What?" he squinted at her.

"You're the first new student we've had this year. People are interested," she explained.

"Why are they interested?" he shook his head.

"We don't get many new kids, I mean, this is a tiny school," she laughed lightly, hoping he'd at least crack a smile.

"So they want to gawk at me?" his jaw clenched.

"No, God, that's not what I was trying to do-," she defended herself.

"What were you trying to do then?" he stopped and turned towards her.

"I was just-," she was at a loss for words. She mumbled incoherently.

"Yeah, exactly," he rolled his eyes.

"Wait-," she reached out a little.

"Look," he swung around to face her, "I only have two months of school left. I just want to get in and get out. I don't need to feel 'welcomed'' by anyone." He scowled at her before turning. "Just leave me alone."

"Fine then," she called after him, embarrassment turning to anger and frustration.

He kept walking down the hallway, roughly bumping into the other kids.

She left in defeat, cursing her own lack of social skills.

The headliner would have to be about the daffodils.

Goodbye, scholarships.

Goodbye, the thought of ever leaving Vermont.

She slumped back into her seat at the lunch table.

"How was that?" Claire asked, not looking at Karen directly.

"He's an asshole," she crossed her arms and laid her head on the table. "I'm gonna be stuck here forever."

Claire tried her best to comfort her. "At least you're not pregnant."

"Could you steal me all the student medical records so I can write my article on them?" Karen mumbled.

"Yeah, sure, I don't value my internship at all," she replied sarcastically.

"Uh oh," Foggy coughed.

"What?"

"I think I just got marinara in your hair, Karen."

After blotting sauce out of her hair and almost smacking Foggy in the face, Karen's waking nightmare continued with her least favorite class, Calculus 1 with Mrs. Reyes.

Foggy, sitting right behind her, had to wait for the meat of the lecture before he talked to her.

"Karen, are you still free tonight?" Foggy leaned forward and asked.

"Yeah, 7 o'clock right?" she confirmed.

"Right, I didn't want to say it in front of Claire, but Matt's bringing a 'friend'," he added suggestively.

"What?" Karen felt her stomach drop just a little.

"Karen, turn around please," Mrs. Reyes snapped. "The nerve."

"Sorry," Karen spun around and avoided making eye contact.

Mrs. Reyes droned on with her lecture and shot more than a few dirty looks at Karen. Her stomach was churning up and down.

Usually, she and Matt both played third wheel to Foggy and Marci, but now, she would be the fifth wheel?

"Cars don't even have five wheels," she muttered under her breath. She stewed over her own loneliness and lack of creativity.

"For homework, do exercise 1 on page 346," Mrs. Reyes anticipated the dismissal bell.

Malcolm raised his hand, "Just odds?"

"Normally, Malcolm, I would only assign odd numbered problems. Thanks to someone's lack of restraint," she eyed Karen, "All problems are assigned."

The class collectively shot Karen a dirty look. She wanted to melt into the seat by the time the bell sounded.

Foggy waited for her as she packed her bag extra slowly to avoid classmates. They walked out of the room together and waited for Matt to come out of the English room across the hall.

Students down the hall started yelling and shouting, all crowding around each other.

"FIGHT!" Turk shouted as he ran past them towards the noise.

"Let's see!" Foggy grabbed her wrist and pulled her down the hallway.

Her height was an unwelcome advantage in this situation. She could see every bit of the bloody action.

One kid stood over the other, punching his face over and over. Students and teachers were trying to pull him off, but could barely budge him. Finally, a pair of teachers yanked him off the other student.

A teacher hoisted up the kid who was now unconscious on the floor. Karen could hardly recognize his bloodied face. He was beaten within an inch of his life.

The other one was being pulled away, bloody and screaming. A couple teachers pulled the kid past Foggy and Karen towards the office.

She met eyes with him for a moment.

It was the new student. Her stomach churned.

Karen had a story to write.

Chapter Text

It was Frank's fault. He admitted it plainly.

Frank was the one who threw the first punch, and Frank was the one who landed the other kid in the hospital. The only thing that kept Frank from expulsion was the other student's prior offenses.

Kirigi Nobu, star quarterback of the Midtown Football Team, had been cited 3 times for inciting assaults, as well as his 4 instances of vandalism of school property. Being as injured as he was, it looked like he may lose his athletic scholarship.

4 days suspension for Frank felt like a slap on the wrist, with all the trouble he caused.

He drudged home past the only restaurant he'd seen in town, a worn out diner. His uncle's house was old, but well maintained compared to the other houses in the neighborhood. Bluebell Street was tightly packed with homes in various states of decay, with the worse houses further down.

He saw from over a slight hill, a grey dog was running towards him down the street.

Frank didn't know whether he should stay put and see if the dog was friendly or not. The dog looked like a pitbull, though maybe not full bred. He was young, not over 6 months, and a beautiful shiny grey.

The dog bounded towards him and jumped up, wanting to play. Frank crouched down to his level.

"Hey, boy," he laughed. Frank started to pet him, until he noticed his hand was slimy.

The dog had blood on his neck.

There was no collar to help with identification, and even then, Frank didn't want the dog to be put back in danger. What kind of town was this? Was the dog just attacked? Or was he a victim of a bad owner?

His uncle wouldn't be home for another few hours. Maybe Frank could sneak the dog into his room and get away with it. His uncle would already be upset over the suspension, so maybe bringing a dog home would just be tempting fate.

Maybe he might as well just risk it.

"C'mon, boy," Frank clapped and guided the dog home with him. He fed him some leftover chicken breast and gave him a plastic bowl of water. The dog was absolutely starving. Frank had to cut him off before he made himself sick.

Frank laid down on his own bed, in his own room, and he closed his eyes to the light from the window. Clouds were moving in, and a storm was well on its way.

He would have to go back soon, and to a school that saw him as a monster.

For now, he would take all the affection he could get, even if it came from the dog curled up at his feet.

-------------------------------------

"I don't know what to do."

Karen sat in a chair at the end of a booth inside the best (and only) diner in Midtown. Marci and Foggy sat huddled up on one side while Matt sat alone on the other, waiting for his elusive and mysterious friend.

"Drink your milkshake, Karen, we'll figure this out," Marci put her hand on Karen's shoulder.

"I think it's pretty obvious what you should do, Karen," Matt began.

She looked up at him and new he was arguing for the moral high ground. Karen was playing with his cane, passing it from hand to hand to keep herself busy.

"Now wait a minute," Foggy started in on his argument.

"Would it be morally right to exploit the pain of another student?" Matt leaned forward.

"Would it be sensible to cheat yourself out of a full ride to Columbia?" Foggy shrugged.

"Would you be able to live with the psychological weight of those actions?"

"But newspapers are supposed to represent what the people want to know," Marci defended.

"But doesn't the press have a moral responsibility to decide the agenda of discussion?" Matt's voice started to raise.

"Okay, this isn't debate team, you guys," Karen finally intervened. "This is my future. I can't pay for college the way you guys can."

They all shut up for a minute, looking slightly embarrassed.

Marci put her hand on Karen's shoulder. "Tell us how you feel about it."

She sighed, "I want to send in wonderful work and get into a great program, but I don't want that work to be based on a picture of a kids pummeled face."

"There you have it," Matt gave a harsh look in Foggy and Marci's direction.

"Don't pretend you're some saint, Matt," Marci rolled her eyes. "You just like principles, you don't follow through."

"Says the prime example of premarital sex sitting before me."

"Oh, shut your Catholic mouth," Foggy spat back.

"Seriously, all of you," Karen interrupted. "No more."

"I'm changing the subject," Foggy announced. "I want to talk about what a good person you are, Karen, and how glad I am you came to us for help."

"You really don't have to go there, Foggy," she held out a hand. "I'm fine."

"It's true," Marci said between fries. "You're the best person I know."

The click of heels announced the arrival of Matt's guest. When Karen turned her head, her heart sank.

She was incredibly gorgeous and staggeringly well dressed. Her hair was done perfectly, and her bright smile was so warm and sweet.

Karen didn't feel jealousy, just understanding and resignation. She knew why Matt picked her.

"Hello, everyone," she slid into the booth next to Matt. Her voice was lightly accented. Karen couldn't make it out.

"Guys, this is Elektra," Matt introduced, his face beaming.

"Hi," they replied collectively.

"Marci and Foggy," Matt waved in their direction.

"Oh, yes the couple! It's a pleasure!" she acquainted herself too formally, but she was undeniably charming.

"And Karen."

"Karen! I've heard all about you, Matthew says you're a brilliant writer," she greeted her excitedly.

"That's kind of him," Karen replied, "I'm in a bit of a lull right now."

"So how did you meet?" Foggy asked quickly before the table consumed itself with curiosity.

"We met at the fundraiser at church," Matt answered. "The one you were supposed to come to," he shot Foggy a disapproving look.

"My dad is in town on business," she clarified. "So we were there to help."

"What kind of business can you have in a place like this?" Foggy laughed.

"Philanthropy," she answered, causing an awkward silence.

"But you like it here?" Matt turned to her and tried to change the subject.

"Oh, I think it's beautiful here," she replied convincingly.

Foggy made a face at Marci. "Why?"

"You've got so many birds and trees! It's lovely. Big cities are loads of fun, but you do miss the nature."

No one had a good response to any of her comments. Her presence just felt odd, not to mention how off Matt was acting around her.

Foggy heroically changed the subject, relieving the heavy pause.

"So, Elektra, we're all divided on an issue," Foggy began.

The table collectively groaned.

"If you had the opportunity to change your life for the better," Foggy continued, "But to do it, you had to rely on the momentary pain of another person, would you go for it?"

"Oh, I'd exploit the kid, that's easy," she waved it off like he was joking.

The table went silent again.

"Without even thinking about it?" Matt questioned, sounding upset.

"I believe in self betterment, you know that," she leaned towards him affectionately.

He laughed the exchange off, turning just a little red.

Karen was just too uncomfortable.

"I think I should go," Karen said abruptly.

"So early?" Marci waved her back down.

"Yeah, I still have the Calc to do," she sighed. "And it looks like it's gonna rain."

"Send me the answers when you're done," Foggy whispered.

"Thanks for the help, guys," Karen waved. "It was great to meet you, Elektra."

"Oh, you too," she smiled at her genuinely.

"I'll see you all soon," Karen smiled and headed out the door.

The walk home was less than a mile, but it felt like an eternity. As expected, lightning cracked overhead and the rain started to pour down by the time she was halfway.

She trudged in the door and took off her boots. Her older brother would still be at work, so she was home alone for the evening.

Karen flopped on her bed, still soaking wet. She weighed her options one more time.

Did she want to build her career on this? Could she have a career if she didn't?

She fell asleep still soaking wet, and when she woke up, she knew what she needed to do.

That morning, Karen stood in the school copy room finalizing her decision.

"Am I doing the right thing?" Karen asked, downing another cup of coffee.

"You're doing what you need to," Mr. Ellison answered. "That's what matters."

The printer whirred and flickered green.

"It's ready."

"You push the button," Ellison directed her.

Karen inhaled deeply before starting up the copier.

The newspaper was published, complete with Trish Walker's acclaimed advice column, Brett's academic news and scholarship notices, Melvin's densely recorded sports reports along with his fashion section, and finally, Claire's health and wellbeing corner.

The headline read: "Seasons Change, Time Falls Away"

Karen went for the safe route. And God was she still nervous.

Chapter Text

Karen's next week was spent drudging through homework assignments and completing bleak scholarship applications.

She was falling into a depressive episode again, no matter how many warning signs she ignored. She was forgetting to eat, and then eating too much. She couldn't concentrate on school work and her anxiety levels were spiking.

Not to mention, Matt had gone AWOL. No one had heard from him in two days. Foggy was worried half out of his mind.

Marci picked fights with him at every lunch hour, making the two of them an unbearable unit.

"Do you want to come to the library with me to print something?" Claire asked loudly during one particularly bad scrap between the couple.

"Yeah," Karen agreed, all too eager to let the couple work things out alone.

"I can't stand a minute more of that shit," Claire whispered once Marci and Foggy were out of earshot.

"I know, do you have anything I can take?" Karen rubbed her forehead.

"Headache?" Claire asked, stopping her.

"Yeah, I'm just not feeling right."

"Is it just a headache?" Claire asked knowingly, her eyebrows raising.

"No," Karen admitted, "But I don't have an appointment until next week."

"See if they'll try something new," Claire recommended, "What you're on obviously isn't working."

She pulled a couple of ibuprofens out of her purse and handed her a water bottle.

Karen downed them before opening the door to the small, worn down library.

He was there.

The new kid was sitting at her favorite table. He was wrapped up in a Physics textbook, jotting down notes to the side. He wore a grey hoodie and dark jacket, hood up on his head. Karen wasn't sure who or what he was hiding from, or if he just wanted to be alone.

In any case, she wasn't giving up her usual table to him.

"We don't have to sit there," Claire tried to steer her to the other side of the room.

"No, it's fine," she grumbled defiantly. She would sit there out of spite, solely to make him uncomfortable.

She sat her books down across from his and took her seat at the table.

He opened his mouth, obviously trying to catch her attention. She didn't give him the satisfaction and kept looking down at her book. She wasn't going to acknowledge the kid until she absolutely had to.

"It's Karen, right?" he finally asked.

"Excuse me?" she raised an eyebrow, barely giving eye contact.

"I was rude to you yesterday," he looked her straight in the eye, his tone direct and certain.

Karen scoffed. "I'm lucky I didn't get my ass kicked."

He sighed, obviously uncomfortable. "I know it doesn't excuse what I did, but I'm sorry for it."

"Okay," Karen relaxed a little bit. "Do you need help or something?" she asked, sounding much ruder than she intended.

"No, sorry," he rubbed his head and returned to his book.

A silence fell over the table as Claire scribbled down vocabulary words and Frank and Karen both read their textbooks quietly.

Karen was uncomfortable in the silence and would occasionally look up at him for just split seconds. She noticed his bruise mostly, just at the top of his right cheekbone. It was already yellowing, and she was sure Claire was inspecting it too.

He caught her staring.

"You said you could write something about me," Frank spoke up finally, dropping his book.

"Our next issue isn't for another week," Karen looked at him half apologetically.

"Would it still be possible?" he still sounded interested.

"Yeah, in a later issue, if you really want to," she put down her book, starting to wonder if her original plan could work out after all.

"If you could," he looked away from her.

"Yeah," Karen pulled out her planner, "I could interview you here tomorrow?"

"That's fine," he nodded slowly.

"Great, I'll clear it with Mr. Ellison," Karen got up to leave, looking to see what Claire was doing. Karen was eager to leave the situation and pick it up tomorrow. She could only take stress in small doses.

"I'll stay here," Claire muttered, looking in the direction of a certain student standing in the middle of the room.

Matt Murdock was back.

Karen's headache multiplied. She started towards him with long strides.

"Matt," Karen almost yelled in surprise. "Where have you been?" She hissed through her teeth as she offered him her arm and led him out of the library and towards the cafeteria.

"That's not important," he shook his head. "I'm proud of you, Foggy read me the article."

"Oh," she swallowed deeply, glad he couldn't tell. "Right."

"I think you did the right thing."

"Yeah, I hope it works out," she winced, wanting desperately out of the conversation.

"Are you free tonight?" he asked.

Now she just felt sick. He couldn't just pop out of no where with no explanation and do this to her.

"Diner at 6?" she asked, ignoring the pit of despair in her stomach.

"I was thinking the ice cream place down the road."

"Who's driving us?" she laughed awkwardly, looking at his cane and considering her lack of car access.

"Oh, Elektra's driving, I thought that was understood. Is that okay?"

It was going to be one of those nights.

"Right, that works great," she lied.

"Cool, we'll get you at 6," he pointed to the door, "Cafeteria?"

"Yeah," she answered opening up the door for him.

"See you tonight."

"Yeah, see ya," she sighed.

The rest of the day went by in a haze of stress and horror. Karen fumbled through her classes and scrambled to finish her Calc homework before Reyes took it up.

She waited at home anxiously, overanalyzing her clothes and her hair, her mannerisms and her personality. She was exhausted with herself.

At 6:45, Matt and Elektra rolled up, both laughing and thinly apologetic about being late.

"Have you ever had a drive in a convertible, Karen?" Elektra looked at her through the rearview mirror.

"No," she replied quickly.

"Well," Elektra shifted the car into gear, "I hope you're alright with your hair getting messy."

Elektra proved to be a fast, and nominally dangerous, driver. They sped the ten miles down the highway with the top down and the beginnings of the sunset in the distance.

When she forgot where she was and who she was with, Karen felt a sweet calmness come over her. The air had taken on the perfect amount of chill, and the world felt fresh and new as the wind whipped at her hair.

She almost cursed their arrival at the ice cream shop. They all ordered together, and Elektra claimed the check with a generous nod.

They ate in a relative silence, Matt and Elektra occasionally saying sweet things to each other and holding hands.

Karen tried to smile along through her sense of unease.

Matt drank his milkshake too quickly, so he awkwardly excused himself to the restroom.

"Pistachio ice cream," Elektra smiled at Karen with approval, "You have good taste, Miss Page."

"Thanks," she smiled, still feeling queasy. "Y'know, I know Matt thinks I need to get out and do these kinds of things, but please don't feel bad about saying no to it," she rambled half coherently.

"What do you mean?" Elektra asked in shock.

"I don't want to annoy you two while you connect," Karen started, "It seems like there's something really intense between you guys, and I wouldn't want to interrupt," she finished delicately.

"Oh my goodness, no!" Elektra put a hand on Karen's arm. "I was the one that suggested you tag along!"

"Really?" Karen asked in disbelief.

"Absolutely! I wanted to get to know you better," she smiled brightly, "Matthew says such wonderful things about what a kind and caring person you are."

"Well, thanks," Karen blushed a little. "I'm trying."

"You know," Elektra's voice lowered, "I don't get to have many friends, with all the moving from place to place, so I need to be able to talk to real, good people as often as I can."

Karen ignored how that statement made it clear that Elektra was using her, and she took it as a misguided compliment instead. "I'm always open when you want to talk."

"Are you all ready?" Matt emerged from the bathroom and waved his cane at the door.

"Of course," Elektra grabbed his arm ceremoniously and led him to the car.

Karen hopped into the backseat and admired the very end of the sunset.

"Let's play a game," Elektra pumped the gas pedal as they got on the highway.

"What game?" Matt shouted to be heard over the engine.

"This."

Elektra swerved the car into the other lane. They were both screaming as loud as they could.

Karen almost fainted when she saw the headlights of another car coming.

Elektra jerked the car back to the right lane at the last moment.

The other driver honked and cursed at them as they sped by.

Elektra howled, echoed by Matt's enthusiastic shouts. He was unlike anything she'd ever seen before. A completely different person.

Elektra was pushing the car to 90 miles per hour.

Matt was throwing his head back and shouting.

And Karen was crying.

She didn't know exactly when the tears started, but by the time Elektra took their exit and slowed the car, Karen was sobbing as quietly as she could manage. Her chest heaved with every inhale.

They dropped her off, still laughing from the excitement of the drive.

"Good night, Karen!" they called in unison, not noticing the state she was in.

"Night," she replied, still in her haze.

Karen walked in, took her medicine, and slept without another thought or word.

Chapter Text

It was finally lunch time, and Frank Castle fidgeted in his seat while he waited for Karen. The library was sparsely populated, but still, he felt uncomfortable and watched. Lunch had started a full 3 minutes ago and she still hadn't shown up. He was starting to wonder if she even would.

Finally, after the entirety of 2 more minutes, Karen walked in, wearing a mustard sweater that blended with her hair, which was piled in a bun on top of her head.

"Hi," she greeted, bumping her chair on the table clumsily.

"Hi," he said back, hands fidgeting under the table.

Karen was just as nervous as he was. She had forgotten every question she practiced mentally.

"I just realized I don't even know your name," Karen pointed out, feeling strange and off kilter.

"Frank Castle," he answered plainly.

She mouthed the words as she pulled out her notebook and scribbled them down.

"So, where did you go to school before Midtown?" Karen blurted in a bad attempt to break the ice.

"A military academy in Virginia," he answered simply.

"Do you want to elaborate?" she tried to prompt him.

"Not really," he shifted his gaze.

"Okay," she rolled her eyes slightly and jotted his words down. "Are you opposed to being called a southern boy?"

"What?" He asked in a louder voice.

"The library is for studying, not for talking," the chief librarian Mrs. Gao wagged her finger at them from across the room.

Karen mouthed an apology.

"Is there somewhere we could meet later?" Karen whispered as she collected her pen and notebook.

"There's a diner near my house," he answered, not knowing much about the area.

"Mine too," she narrowed her eyes. "You're not on Bluebell Street, are you?"

"Yeah, I am."

"I have the principal on the line," Mrs. Gao shouted.

"We're leaving," Karen told her.

"7 o'clock?" Frank asked.

"Sure."

Karen walked out of the library and headed for Ellison's office so she could print out some sample questions.

She kept the list basic and short, hoping she could lead Frank into more interesting and in depth questions as they went on.

Her day was spent rehearsing her actions and trying to seem as inviting and welcoming as possible. She also spent time banishing her memories of Kirigi's bloody face and the stain left in the hallway after the fight.

Frank was just as nervous, completely overestimating the time it would take to walk to the diner and showed up 15 minutes early.

The waitress, an older woman whose name tag read Elena, set him up with coffee while he waited. It had taken so much courage to ask Karen to do this, but now Frank was starting to second guess himself.

Finally, Karen walked in, greeting the waitress and looking around the room for Frank. She hadn't changed clothes, but her hair was let down.

Frank stood up quickly and waved awkwardly to catch her attention.

"Hi, Frank," she greeted him, sliding into the opposite end of the booth. She pulled out her pen and notebook and opened to a fresh page.

"Hi," he answered back with just a semblance of a smirk.

"How's your day been?" she tried to let conversation come naturally.

"Good," he answered simply, not elaborating. "You met Elena?" she waved in the direction of the waitress.

"Yeah," he nodded.

"She's my neighbor- our neighbor, I guess."

"Huh," Frank nodded in understanding.

Karen quickly saw this was going nowhere.

"So where are you from?" she asked, referring to her pre-determined list.

"Richmond."

"Great. Did you like it there?"

"It was warmer," he admitted, swallowing deeply.

"Family members?" she pried, a little worried her interviewing skills were getting rusty.

"Just my uncle," he sounded off put and uncomfortable.

"Me too. Just a brother," she smiled at him, trying to get him to open up more.

"Yeah?" he asked, smirking just a little, but still fidgeting.

"He's a logger, works at the timber mill up that road," she nodded. "What does your Uncle do?"

"National Guard," he nodded along, taking a long sip of coffee.

"So you come from a military family?" she started to dig a little deeper.

"More or less," he scratched his head. "I had a lot of family who served."

"Have you thought about it?" she questioned.

"Yeah, I'm going in this summer," he sat up just a little straighter subconsciously.

"Makes sense."

She took notes on his answers and smiled just a little. She was getting somewhere.

Elena came over to refill Frank's coffee.

"Thank you, ma'am," Frank nodded at her politely. Karen tried not to be shocked at his politeness.

"Do you want a shake, Karen?" she asked with a light smirk and eyebrow wag, implying something that wasn't there.

"Yeah, please," Karen smiled up at her.

Elena nodded and retreated back into the kitchen.

"Do you have a dog?" Frank asked abruptly.

"No," Karen answered quickly, a little confused, "Why?"

"There's a grey pitbull, he's just a puppy, I found him in the street."

"The Nesbitts," Karen recognized immediately. "They have a few guard dogs that had puppies a while back."

"I guess I should bring him back," Frank looked a little dejected.

"Oh no, keep him," Karen told him. "They treat their dogs like trash."

"Good," he laughed lightly.

"So you're an animal lover, then?" Karen smiled, feeling more comfortable.

"I guess," he smiled back for the first time she'd seen.

"Have you named him yet?" she got back on the interviewer train.

He looked away from her and smiled, "Max."

Karen laughed, "Great."

She jotted down his love for Max and his politeness towards Elena. She was surprised by her progress.

"So what kind of things do you like? Like TV, books?"

"I like everything," he dodged the particulars of the question. "I'll watch or read anything."

"You're not into like, war movies or anything?" she tried to pull him in a certain direction.

"Not really," he shook his head, "I always think they're just violent for the sake of being violent," he looked at her to gauge her reaction. He was still uncomfortable, but he started to feel a little more at ease.

"Agreed," she smiled, "So you don't like gratuitous violence," she jotted down. "What about kids movies?"

"Are you asking if I like kids movies?" he started to tense up again.

"No, no," she backtracked, "When you were a kid, what movies did you like?"

"Well, I mean," he started to look away from her.

"Come on," Karen tried to at least pull one relatable movie out of him.

"I, uhh," he looked away from her and tried to hide his smirk. "I used to like the ones I could sing along with."

Karen's eyebrows shot up, "You like musicals?!"

"Shhh, okay, yeah," he leaned forward and started to whisper. "Yeah, kind of, just don't yell."

Karen reassured him, "Of course."

She couldn't help but smile, "Did you like Lion King?"

"Yeah," he admitted under his breath. He was honestly blushing.

Karen took her notes and could see how she would paint Frank as an endearing and relatable character.

"And at school, what are you good at?" she put away her preset questions and went with what felt right.

"English, definitely writing work," he nodded.

"You're always studying Physics though?"

"That's because I suck at it."

Karen laughed, "Fair enough."

The doorbell chimed behind them, and Karen nearly cursed when she heard the laughter.

"Karen!" Foggy called over to her from the other side of the room.

"A few minutes," she yelled back at him. "That's Foggy," she turned back to Frank and rolled her eyes.

"Who are the others?" he asked.

She didn't have to turn around to tell him. "His girlfriend Marci is probably there, they've been hate-dating each other for two years now. And Matt, he's Foggy's best friend. Is there another girl with them?" She inhaled a little.

"Yeah," he confirmed.

"That's Matt's new girlfriend, Elektra. She's very exciting," she smiled, trying her best to stay positive.

"We can do this another time, if you want," he started to fidget again.

"No, believe me," she began, "I need time away from them."

"Okay," he looked unconvinced.

"Did you, did you have friends? Back in Virginia?"

"What do you mean?" his eyebrows furrowed a little.

Karen didn't realize how rude she sounded.

"You just seem," she fumbled, "Like, like you would make friends, I guess? That's what I'm trying to say," she gauged his reaction. "It was a compliment, I swear."

"Yeah, I had friends," he answered finally, smiling at her embarrassment.

The clock chimed in the corner, signaling 7 o'clock.

"I actually should go soon," Frank stated as he downed his coffee.

"Oh, right, homework?" she asked, putting on her jacket.

"Yeah, test tomorrow," he maintained eye contact.

"Okay, um," she wasn't sure how to continue, "I'll try to start writing, and if I need more info, I guess I'll just come and find you?"

"Yeah," he stood from the booth. "That works fine."

"Great," she stood up and wasn't sure whether she should shake his hand or wave or what. She just clutched onto her notebook and said, "Thanks for doing this."

"It's no problem," he smirked, "Thanks for writing it."

"Uh, I'll see you soon," she smiled shyly.

"Yeah, see ya," he waved before walking out the door.

Karen felt a little strange, Frank had been pleasant, if shy, and the encounter had been so much better than she had expected. He became easy to talk to, she realized, as the conversation went on.

In any case, she got her milkshake from Elena, told her firmly that she wasn't on a date, and walked over to the table her friends were at, pulling her chair up to the end of the table.

"Hi, guys," Karen sighed, setting down her milkshake.

"Hi, Karen," they answered in a chorus.

"Who were you talking to?" Matt questioned her. "I didn't recognize his voice."

"Frank, the new student."

"Ooooh," Foggy nudged her, wagging his eyebrows up and down.

"Don't," she replied between sips.

"The one who almost killed Kirigi?" Matt whispered in shock.

"The very same," Marci confirmed.

"I can handle myself, Matt," Karen rolled her eyes.

"I agree," Elektra stated between fries. "Karen is a tough woman."

"I know, I just think you should bring someone with you next time, or at least tell us about it."

Karen drank her shake and silently resented him for patronizing her. Especially when he showed so often how little he really cared about her.

"Imagine that, Matt," Foggy started, "Telling your friends where you are?"

"Okay," Marci held her hand out, "Let's not."

"I don't know," Foggy kept on, "I think Karen and I deserve to know where you were."

Karen picked up her milkshake so she could stare at Matt and drink at the same time.

"We went to my old foster home," Matt stated, his voice plain and simple.

"Matthew wanted to show me," Elektra smiled and joined hands with him.

"Oh."

The hostility dissipated. They continued the night with small talk and Marci's sentimental recollection of Elementary school. Karen wasn't especially into reminiscing, so she excused herself gracefully.

Karen walked home that night quietly, watching the sun go down over the houses on Bluebell Street.

She wondered which house Frank was in, just for a moment. She wondered if he was studying for his test, or playing with Max, and really- if he needed a friend as much as she did.

Chapter Text

It was a rainy Saturday, and Karen was spending her afternoon with Marci trying on every prom dress she possibly could. Dress options were limited in Midtown, especially for girls as tall as Karen.

"Try on this blue one," Marci suggested. She was doing her very best to help her find something that would work.

Every short dress looked scandalous on Karen and every long dress became tea length. She reluctantly looked at yet another that would ultimately be too short.

Karen sat in the changing room trying to stay positive and optimistic through the situation. She had stopped trying everything Marci brought her in favor of just sitting and saving herself the disappointment.

Mentally, Karen was teetering on the edge of something that deeply shook her. Prom dress shopping fit well into Karen's plan of distracting herself and spending very little time alone.

"Look at this," Marci gasped, walking into the room without knocking.

She held up a staggeringly long emerald green dress that looked like it might actually fit.

"Where did you-?" Karen started.

"In the back," Marci whispered excitedly.

Karen braced herself as Marci zipped her up. It hit her right at the ankles. It was absolutely perfect.

"Holy shit."

Marci squealed.

"It's cheap, too," Marci said loudly. "Get it!"

"I don't know," Karen shook her head. She still wasn't sure she should be using up her brother's money for this.

"Come on!" Marci threw her hands up. "It's a sample and it fits you perfectly."

"I'll think about it," Karen told her noncommittally.

"Don't think!"

Karen's responsibility prevailed as fought the urge to buy it straight off and let Marci take another turn trying on. Marci looked like perfection in everything she tried. Her problem wasn't finding a dress, her problem was choosing.

"Which one?" she spun around. "This or the last one?"

"I liked the red one," Karen told her honestly.

"Me too," she smiled. "I think I'll get it."

Karen tried not to watch while Marci pulled out her credit card and dropped a neat 500 bucks on her gown.

Karen left empty handed, but with the promise of the owner that they could hold the dress another week for her.

"Where next?" Marci asked as they got into her car.

"I'm too tired," Karen sighed. "You wear me out."

"Come on, I like being with you and not the boys," Marci tilted her head. "We never get to see each other alone."

"Yeah," Karen admitted, "And they've been so dramatic lately."

"Oh God, you have no idea what I've been dealing with. Foggy is an absolute nightmare when he's fighting with Matt."

Karen smiled, ready for Marci to unload on her.

"I have other things to worry about," Marci started to vent. "College is coming, not to mention tennis," she looked over at Karen, "States are this week, and I'm too stressed over my boyfriend and his boyfriend to even practice."

"Does he know you feel like that?" Karen played therapist.

"I don't even know if he cares about it," she groaned, "We're really just together because we're too stubborn to split up."

"Hey now," Karen smirked, "I've heard that before."

"It's true this time!" she argued. "Not like last time, or before that...," she trailed off, not wanting to count their breakups. "He just doesn't care about me as much as he cares about Matt," she rattled on.

Karen was slightly irritated and felt an immense relief when they reached Bluebell Street.

"You're good to talk to," Marci sighed as she pulled into Karen's driveway. "Stay with me all day and we can talk more shit about Foggy."

"You know I need to go," Karen pleaded with her. Marci wasn't really so focused on being with Karen, she just wanted someone to unload to.

"Suddenly I can't hear anything," Marci pretended, "What was that Karen?"

"I promised Kevin we would go out for dinner," Karen laughed.

"I know," she sighed. "I claim you next weekend though. You can't make plans with your brother again."

Karen smiled at her. "Thanks for getting me out of the house."

"Anytime," she laughed, "See you Monday."

Karen waved before closing the door and walking inside.

"Did you get a dress?" Kevin shouted from the living room.

"Kind of," Karen replied. "They're saving it for me."

He popped up from the couch and walked into the kitchen. Kevin was a half foot taller than Karen and a decade older. As brothers went, he wasn't flawless, but he did his best and truly cared about Karen.

"Where is it?" he practically shouted.

"I said I didn't get one," she nearly shouted back.

Kevin had awful hearing. Ever since the car crash, he could only hear out of his left ear. "Oh," he nodded. "Have you eaten yet?"

"No, but I could," she offered as she poured a glass of juice for herself.

"Where do you wanna go then?" he crossed his arms.

"Can we go to the sushi place?" she delicately suggested.

"You want me to drive a half hour there and back?" he groaned.

"Come on," she tried to convince him. "I never see you."

His jaw clenched, but he was sold. "Fine."

Karen nearly ran to the car in excitement. Kevin followed slowly and turned the radio onto full blast.

Karen had earplugs in her purse just for situations like these. She didn't bother trying to have a conversation with him. They were comfortable just like this, with her laying back and trying to sleep while he sang as loud as he could.

He nudged her awake and tapped her ear gently when they reached the restaurant. They opted for the table instead of the hibachi, and Karen ordered Kevin the most simple and tame rolls she could.

Kevin sighed as they were left alone. "I feel like I haven't seen you in a year."

"Well," Karen laughed, admitting she felt the same way.

"How's the paper?" he asked.

"I'm worried about it," she sighed. "I don't think it's good enough."

"Oh, please," he waved her off. "I read the last one with the springtime thing," he tried to cheer her up.

"Did you like it?" she raised her eyebrows.

"Well, y'know, I especially liked the thing Melvin wrote about floral print," he dodged the question.

"Exactly," Karen huffed.

"Come on, it's one bad story," he encouraged her. "You're going to go far, Karen, don't worry about it."

Karen looked up at him and could tell he was getting upset.

The waiter brought out their sushi and they ate in silence, Kevin picking at the pieces and awkwardly trying to use the chopsticks.

"You know I tried on my cap and gown yesterday," Karen subtly brought up graduation.

"Stop," Kevin looked away. "You're gonna make me cry."

"It was too short," she continued. "I knew it would be."

"Can you get another?"

"No, not in time. I thought about asking someone with a long one to hem it and let me sew their extra length on mine."

Kevin fiddled with his chopsticks, obviously uncomfortable talking about graduation.

"Have you put in any more applications?" he finally asked.

"No," Karen groaned. "I'm still waiting."

"They have to let you know at some point," Kevin told her before getting up to pay for their meal.

Rain was pouring down as they left the restaurant. They drove away from the restaurant in near silence, both feeling the weight of something unspoken. They drove that way for a while, until Karen could take no more.

"You don't want me to go, do you?" Karen asked abruptly.

"It's not like that," he waved it off. "I want what's best for you. But I want to see you all the time."

"I'll come home as much as I can," she reassured. "We'll probably see more of each other than we do now."

A streak of lightning flickered above them, followed by a huge boom of thunder.

"Point taken," he tapped the steering wheel. "Whose gonna do laundry for me?"

"You're going to learn," she reproached him.

"Oh, I'm gonna learn, am I?" he mocked.

"That or you'll never wear a clean shirt again," she laughed.

Kevin took the turn onto the main road extra sharp, just to mess with Karen.

The headlights showed someone walking ahead on the sidewalk, they were getting completely drenched.

"Who's that kid?" Kevin asked suspiciously, squinting his eyes and turning on his high beams.

"Don't blind them," Karen chastised.

Kevin honked lightly at him.

The kid turned around and Karen's stomach rolled as she recognized him immediately.

"That's Frank," she told Kevin, "He's new here, I'm interviewing him for the paper."

Kevin moved forward and rolled down his window. "Do you want a ride?"

Frank was about to politely decline until Karen leaned out the window.

"Hey, Frank," she waved awkwardly.

"Oh, hey," he waved back in surprise.

"Hop in," Kevin yelled, "Scoot, Karen."

She wasn't expecting this, and she probably wasn't prepared. Kevin was embarrassing at times, and he absolutely worked at it.

Karen opened the passenger door for Frank and scooted close to Kevin, trying to leave Frank as much room as she could.

He slid in and closed the door, then slid back against the door. He was leaving her as much room as he could too, she realized. That didn't help her relax.

He was sopping wet and apologetic for it.

"I'm Kevin," Kevin shouted once Frank pulled the door closed.

"I'm Frank," Frank replied as he closed the door and avoided eye contact with Karen.

"Huh?"

"You have to be loud," Karen leaned in and whispered to Frank, smirking.

"My name's Frank," he stated in a louder voice. "Was that good?" he whispered.

She gave him a thumbs up.

"Oh, okay, you go to school with Karen?" Kevin kept driving.

"Yeah, we don't have classes together though," he clarified.

"Where do you live, by the way?" Kevin realized he could be driving in the wrong direction.

"I live on Bluebell," Frank directed him.

"No kidding, so do we!" Kevin nudged Karen in her side. She wanted to disappear into the upholstery.

Kevin continued, "Karen said she interviewed you for the paper?"

"Yeah, she did," he answered, looking at Karen for a moment. She was obviously embarrassed by the interaction.

"Karen is going to be the next Barbara Walters, I tell her that almost every day and she's sick of hearing it, but it's the truth, Frank."

Frank looked at Karen very quickly and smiled. She was beet red.

"This is me," Frank pointed towards the house on the left of the street.

"You're right across from us," Kevin proclaimed, pointing at the home diagonal to Frank's. "You're related to Schoonover?"

"Yeah, I'm his nephew."

"You tell him 'hey' for me," Kevin instructed.

"I'll tell him," Frank nodded with a smile, opening the door and scooting out of the seat.

"See you soon," Karen blurted, feeling flustered.

"Yeah, see ya," he smirked as he held the door open, "Thanks for the ride, sir."

"Not a problem," Kevin loudly proclaimed as he waved him goodbye.

Frank jogged to his front door and waved back at them one more time before heading inside.

"Thanks for the ride, sir," Kevin mocked under his breath.

"Stop," Karen smacked his arm.

"He's just shy," Kevin pulled into the garage. "Seems like a nice kid."

"Yeah," Karen agreed. "He's good."

"Keep away from that Froggy and the blind kid," Kevin advised her. "Make friends like Frank when you're in college."

"Okay," she smiled, walking in the house and not bothering to correct him.

The air was cool and comfortable, the soft thunder outside was soothing and calming, and Karen Page felt safe as she took her medicine and laid down to sleep.

Nonetheless, something was nagging at her. She got out of bed and moved her curtains aside.

A light was coming from the upstairs window of Schoonover's house. She thought about Frank for just another moment, and silently agreed with her brother.

Karen needed new friends. So did Frank.

So she decided to try.

Chapter Text

It was supposed to be a lazy Sunday afternoon, but Karen Page was too busy fulfilling her duty as diplomat between the sovereign nations of Matt Murdock and Foggy Nelson.

"Foggy, why are you like this?" Karen groaned.

"He's missed four of our meetings!" Foggy insisted, sounding like a four year old.

"But you're being immature! You have Matts number, you can call him!"

"I don't want to talk to him," Foggy defiantly told her. "He doesn't deserve that from me."

"And he deserves it from me?!" she reminded Foggy who he was talking to.

"Okay, yeah, that's true," he conceded, "But he'll listen to you before me, obviously."

"This is just another case of you being so selfish you forget about how everyone else feels," Karen accused. "Marci has broken up with you four times at least for this exact reason."

"Call Matt," he pleaded, ignoring her excellent point. "Please?"

"I can't believe you."

"I can't do it," he insisted.

Karen cursed herself for being so eager to please and hung the phone up on him.

She was scrolling through her contact list for Matt's number. She angrily selected his contact and waited for him to answer with her fist clenched.

"Hello?" Elektra's voice came clearly through the other end. Matt's disappearance made more sense now.

"Hi, is Matt there?" Karen asked impatiently.

"Just a second," she cheerfully responded.

"Hello?" came his charming and confused voice.

"Yeah, it's Karen, Foggy says he's dropping out of debate if you don't show up to his house right now."

"What?!" he asked in shock.

"He is incredibly pissed at you right now," Karen continued.

"I only missed a couple practices, he defended himself, "He's overreacting."

"I don't blame him," Karen spoke the truth. "I think he's acting like a child, but I agree with him."

"Karen, it's not-,"

"We don't know where you keep going anymore," Karen started to unload on him, "We're worried sick."

"I'm fine, I promise," Matt assured her.

"We're glad you're happy with Elektra," she honestly told him, "But we can't go days without even hearing from you."

"I know," he admitted.

"And drunk texts from you both are not communication," she chastised him.

"Tell Foggy I understand," he finally said. "And thank you," he added, "Thanks for caring."

"Yeah," she sighed, "You're welcome."

"I'll see you tonight," he promised.

"Bye."

Karen was encouraged, but not convinced. There would be high drama at the debate that night, regardless of how Matt acted.

Karen needed to bring a buffer, badly. The only way she could get out of a situation like this was to bring someone both parties of Murdock and Nelson were uncomfortable being with.

Usually, Claire satisfied that role. Around her, both of them became flustered and nervous Claire and Matt's history, which Karen still didn't understand.

"Can you come to the debate tonight?" Karen texted her quickly.

"Can't, don't ask," Claire sent back immediately.

That invariably meant she was on a date with someone Karen wasn't supposed to know about. Claire was entirely too secret with her private life, but Karen had seen her talking to Luke in the library before. She knew what was going on there.

Trish was out practicing tennis with her little sister, Brett was studying, Melvin was also on a secret date. Karen was alone in the world.

"Why did I hear yelling?" Kevin opened the door to her room and plopped down into the chair by her window.

"Foggy's being a piece of trash and none of my friends can come with me to the debate," Karen answered him with a huff.

"Did you ask Claire?" he suggested.

"Of course I asked Claire," she rolled her eyes.

"Don't get mad at me," Kevin defended himself. "Why do you even need to bring someone?" he asked.

"I need an excuse to slip out early so I don't have to watch Foggy kick Matt's ass."

"Well, you know who you could ask?" he hinted as he stared out of the window.

"Who?" she looked at him.

Kevin pointed down the street to Schoonover's house. He raised an eyebrow.

Karen started to shake her head, but then she considered it.

Frank would work. She had to admit. Foggy and Matt didn't like him, and they would be afraid of him, too.

But it would be so awkward, she didn't know if she could handle it. And what would other kids think? Half the school was still horrified of him.

"I don't know," Karen scratched her neck.

Her phone buzzed next to her.

"He's not here yet," Foggy texted her.

And with that alarming text, Karen decided that Frank was worth a shot.

"Okay, I'm gonna do it," Karen told Kevin, who immediately opened his mouth to respond. "But you can't tease me about it."

"Fine," he conceded, looking smug. "Out the door you get," he pulled her up and marched her through the living room and to the door.

"Wait!" Karen managed before Kevin shut the door in her face. He was pushing her. And she needed it. Part of her thanked him.

She didn't know what she was doing really. Why did she decide this was a good idea? She walked the few feet across the road and over to Frank's front porch.

This is how you make new friends, she repeated the thought to herself. He needs to get out of the house too.

She rang the doorbell and almost ran away before the door opened.

It wasn't Frank who answered. It was the uncle. She hadn't prepared herself for this outcome. Her heart rate tripled.

"Hello, it's Karen, isn't it?" Mr. Schoonover politely greeted her. He was a huge man with a deep voice and dress shirts that always reminded her of picnic tables. "You're Kevin's sister?"

"Yes, that's me," she confirmed nervously. "Is- is your nephew home?"

"Yes he is," his eyebrows raised as he nodded, "I'll send him down."

Karen wanted to punch her own face in. Why was she even here? He wouldn't say yes.

The door swung open again, and Frank stood in the entrance.

He was wearing grey again, (did he always wear grey?) and the little hair he had on the top of his head was curly and messy, like he'd been sleeping.

"Hi," he greeted simply, looking perplexed.

"Hi," she replied, not knowing how to continue.

"What's, uh, what's going on?" he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Have you ever been to a debate?" Karen blurted.

"Not in person," his brows furrowed. He wasn't sure where she was going with this. "Why?"

"Well," she continued, "The championships for the debate team are tonight, and I thought that maybe," she started to falter, "You'd like to come see it?"

He wasn't sure quite how to respond, mainly because he didn't understand why she was asking.

"When is it?" he bit his lip.

"It's at 6," she told him enthusiastically, glad she'd made it this far.

"Well, I mean-,"

"It's no pressure if you're not-," she interrupted to give him an out.

"No, no," he insisted, "I can come," he nodded, still looking a little bit perplexed as to why he was asked.

Karen hadn't prepared for this outcome either.

"Wow, um, great," she exclaimed, "Um, we should probably leave by 5:30," she started to ramble, "It's in the school gym, you know the big building that's sort of behind the main building but also a little down the road?"

"I don't know where that is," he confessed, looking confused and concerned for Karen's sanity.

"I can just meet you outside, right?" Karen suggested. "I'll show you how to get there."

"That works," he nodded.

"Okay," she smiled, "Well, I'll see you then," she awkwardly started to back off his porch.

"Okay," he nodded, "Bye."

Once she heard his door close, she ran back home as fast as she could.

Karen went to her room, laid down and screamed into her pillow. She really wasn't sure if she'd just improved her night or made it exponentially worse.

She bid her next few hours of waiting away with homework and nervous preparation for the night. Marci called twice to tell how worried she was.

Right as Karen was grabbing her purse to meet Frank outside, the doorbell rang. He came to her.

"Who is it?" Kevin asked in a sing song voice.

"Stop it," Karen smacked his arm. "You promised you wouldn't tease me."

Kevin opened the door, revealing Frank, standing there in a grey polo and khakis, looking surprisingly sharp.

"Bye, Kevin," she quickly waved before moving past him.

"Hey," Frank greeted as they stepped off the porch together.

"Hey," she greeted back, "You look nice."

"Be good, Karen," Kevin called, "Be careful, Frank," he shouted.

"Keep walking, don't encourage him," Karen whispered.

Frank smiled a little.

"So what kind of debate is this?" he finally asked.

"The subject is the death penalty," she painted a picture for him, "And the way it works is there are two teams, and one is for and one is against. Both present opening arguments, both cross examine, and both close."

"So there's no moderator?" he asked.

Karen was slightly impressed. "No, it's student led. I thought you said you'd never seen one before?"

"No, I researched," he admitted, looking away from her.

Karen wanted to laugh, but she knew it might hurt his feelings. It was a sweet gesture, and she truly appreciated it.

"So my friends, Matt and Foggy, you saw them at the diner. They're partners on the team," she told him, trying to keep the conversation going.

"Gotcha," he nodded, "Are they any good?"

"Yeah," she felt sick, "When they're working together." They crossed the road and she pointed him towards the small gym.

They waited outside with the other parents and nerdier groups of students. Frank wasn't the best to wait in line with because he kept offering to let people skip them.

Karen's phone started ringing.

It was Foggy.

"I'm gonna kill him," Foggy stated loudly, "I am going to kill him."

"Hey, calm down," she shushed him.

"He's not here."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"He hasn't shown up, he texted and said he would but now he's not."

"Slow down."

"I can't slow down. I have to write a cross examination. Bye."

"Jesus," Karen whispered, putting the phone away.

"Which one was that?" Frank asked with a smile.

"Foggy," she groaned. "Matt hasn't shown up yet and he's worried."

"He's just not showing up?" Frank was taken aback. "He just does that?"

Karen was getting used to it. She wasn't appalled by him any more. "Yeah, actually, he just disappears for days at a time," she admitted.

"He couldn't be driving though, because of...," he tried not to say 'he's blind' so blatantly.

"The girl he was with, Elektra. She takes him places," Karen explained.

"Gotcha," he nodded, "And he doesn't say where?"

"He tried to tell us they went to see the foster home he grew up in," she nodded, "But I doubt it, he was probably just trying to guilt trip us."

The doors opened to the gym and the line started to dissipate.

Karen and Frank took a nice elevated seat near the back so they could see well without "having Foggy see them and freak out" as she explained.

The Chair, a history teacher named Mr. Owlsley, began by introducing each team and making opening remarks.

"And now on the other side, we have Foggy Nelson and Matthew Murdock," Mr. Owlsley introduced last.

"Where is he?" Frank leaned in to ask Karen.

"I really wish I knew," Karen honestly replied.

Foggy's face was turning beet red.

The chair leaned in and whispered something to Foggy, who replied with, "I'll continue alone."

He was first up. He took the microphone and cracked his neck loudly.

His hand starting to shake, he began. "The issue of the death penalty is not one that can be glossed over, ignored, or tossed aside as tradition...," he began, gaining more confidence as he went.

His voice was smooth, his hands gesticulating with enthusiasm, and his eyes full of expression. He stumbled on his words a few times, leading him to cough awkwardly in embarrassment.

But all in all, Foggy did fine. He was obviously flustered and upset at times, but his performance was admirable given the situation.

"He's really good," Frank approved.

"Yeah, he works hard at it," Karen smiled, feeling a little pride for her friend.

The audience clapped and waited for the pro-death penalty side to begin.

Sadly, they were better.

Cross examination was a nightmare. Karen didn't want to relive the second hand embarrassment she felt for her friend.

But Foggy was always resilient. He finished out his presentation strong and delivered a biting closer.

As awards came up, it was fairly clear that Foggy wasn't the winner.

No one gasped when the other team took the trophy home.

"And the honorable mention goes to Foggy Nelson," Mr. Owlsley announced.

Karen clapped loudly for him, knowing he was probably eating himself alive for this.

The audience began to disperse after the closing remarks.

"Do you want to hurry and congratulate him before he gets dramatic?" Karen turned to Frank, leaning in so he could hear.

"Sure," Frank followed her lead through the crowd.

Foggy was sitting in the locker room, looking like he was feeling an odd mix of pride and rage. In any case, his face was very red.

"Great job, Foggy," Karen congratulated him, putting a hand on his shoulder, "You handled that really well."

"Thanks, Karen," he smiled, tilting his head, "I didn't act like a four year old, did I?"

"Have you met Frank?" she changed the subject, knowing he hadn't.

"No," Foggy replied warily, barely looking in Frank's direction.

"Good job," Frank congratulated him with a nod.

"Thank you," Foggy awkwardly replied.

The situation was saved by Marci, who hugged and kissed her Foggy Bear. "You did so good without him, baby!" she squealed.

Karen motioned at Frank that they should bounce before things got weird. They were walking out of the room when she saw him.

It was Matt.

Karen walked over and grabbed his arm, motioning for Frank to follow.

A giant bruise marked the side of Matts face.

"Matt?" Karen asked, "What happened to your cheek?"

"It's nothing," he assured. "Where's Foggy?"

"You need to go," she directed him. "Don't talk to him right now."

"I need to see him," he put his hand on Karen's and pulled it off his arm.

Matt walked in the direction of Foggy's voice, she supposed. He always had a knack for finding people in a crowd.

Karen turned to Frank, her eyes wide and full of panic.

"YOU PIECE OF SHIT!" Foggy's voice sounded loud and clear.

"Oh, God," Karen groaned involuntarily.

"I'VE BEEN HOLDING THIS TEAM TOGETHER FOR FOUR YEARS AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME?!?!"

"Do you want to run?" Karen asked Frank politely and desperately.

"Yeah," he answered in relief. He started to push through the people gathered behind them. "Excuse me, ma'am."

"I'M DONE WITH YOU! I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN!"

"Go, go, go," Karen pushed Frank's back to make him move faster through the assembled crowd.

"Sorry, sir," he politely continued.

"YOU WERE MY BEST FRIEND! I'LL NEVER TRUST ANYONE AGAIN!"

Karen slammed the door to the gym behind them and tried to keep up with Frank.

They jogged away from the building until they reached the school crosswalk. The sun was just about to set and the dew was hanging on the grass, wetting their feet as they ran.

When they stopped to catch their breath, Karen took a deep sigh and started to laugh.

"What?" Frank asked, smiling back.

"That was the best part of the night," she continued to laugh.

Karen felt amazing. She had run just far enough to be hopped up on adrenaline, but not far enough to feel exhausted. She felt like she could run for hours more, just like this. And it was nice, she felt comfortable.

Frank chuckled, motioning her across the road.

"Are you hungry?" she asked before they reached the turn.

"Sure," he answered. "Diner?"

"It's the only place," she affirmed.

They took the turn and walked down the street together, just comfortably quiet.

They walked into the diner, said hey (and hello, ma'am) to Elena, and sat down in opposite ends of the booth. Elena got them coffee and put their burger orders in.

"So did you enjoy the debate?" Karen asked as they settled in.

"Yeah," he nodded, "Educational stuff."

"Educational as in learning about the death penalty, learning about how messed up my friends are?"

"I learned something," he answered noncommittally. "Thanks for bringing me."

"If you ever want to see any kind of nerdy school event, I'm the one to ask."

Elena brought out their burgers and winked dramatically at Karen. She hoped to God Frank didn't see, but figured he did.

"I don't want to lie to you, Frank," Karen admitted. "I partially invited you because my friends are fucking nightmares and I wanted an excuse to stay away from them."

He smiled instantly. "I put that together a half hour ago."

"But besides that, and related to that I guess," she backtracked, "I invited you because all of my friends are selfish and terrible," she swallowed her bite before continuing, "And you don't seem selfish or terrible."

"Are you asking me to be your friend?" he raised his eyebrows, a smirk on his lips.

"No, I'm not a child," she defended her statement, "I just think that you deserve good friends, and I need to learn how to become a good friend."

"So, you are asking me to be your friend?" he restated.

"Yeah," she admitted, "Please be my friend, it will be mutually beneficial."

"Okay," he nodded. "I accept."

She felt a little relief that he was laughing about it and didn't think she was weird or pushy.

"So, how did you even become friends with those guys?" Frank asked like he'd been holding in the question for hours.

Karen swallowed her bite before responding, "I was actually a new student too, at the beginning of junior year."

"Really? You seem so close to everyone," Frank didn't quite believe her.

"Yep," she confirmed. "We moved here, and I um, I got into a little trouble," she didn't elaborate, "And Foggy and Matt helped me out."

"So they're good people at heart?" Frank nodded, confirming his own thoughts.

"Oh, absolutely, and I mean, they've fought ever since I've known them. It's just been a crazy month," she reflected. "I think it has a lot to do with Matt's new girlfriend."

"You think Foggy is jealous?"

"Absolutely," she nodded, "He gets jealous when Matt gets ice cream without him."

"Where can you even get ice cream here?" Frank laughed.

"There's a place down the road," she realized he had no idea about the area around Midtown. "If you take the highway south about ten minutes you hit this little ice cream place."

"Really?"

"We'll, uh, go sometime," she smiled at him.

"Sounds like a plan."

They finished their food and headed out much slower than they came in.

The sun had set, and the air had taken on the slightest chill. They walked down the middle of the road, feeling a little bit invincible.

"Can I ask you something?" Frank turned to her, slowing his pace.

"We're friends now, of course you can," she stated formally before laughing.

He looked away and laughed with her, "Were you scared of me, when you saw...-," he trailed off.

She bit her lip, "Yeah," she admitted.

He nodded, looking satisfied with her answer. "Thanks for telling the truth."

"I don't think you're scary now," she clarified.

"Well, that's good," he replied with a sarcastic smile.

"Do you have anger problems, or something like that?" she didn't want to pry.

"No," he answered honestly, "I really don't."

She didn't want to ask why the fight had started or what motivated him to bash Nobu's head in. She knew that could ruin the night.

"I guess," he started, "I just want you to know that I wouldn't hurt anyone that didn't deserve it."

Karen looked at him, not quite sure how she should respond.

"So I'm good?" she finally asked.

"Yeah," he smiled, "You're safe."

They reached Frank's house, but he kept walking to drop her off. She hardly minded.

They reached her stoop and she unlocked the door.

"Thanks for coming," she smiled, "You saved me."

"Thanks for getting me out," he smiled back, looking shy again.

"I'd invite you in, but Kevin would be unbearable," she groaned. "We'll do this again soon?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "Let me know."

"Alright, see you tomorrow," she smiled, pushing open her door.

"Night," he replied, promptly walking off in the direction of his house.

Karen walked in and kicked off her shoes, which were giving her blisters from the running.

"How was that?" Kevin asked from the couch.

"Really good," she replied, realizing how well the night really went, despite the insanity. She pushed Kevin's legs out of the way and sat down on the couch with him.

Karen told him about the debate, the fight, and dinner, despite Kevin's sarcastic gasps. She ignored his jabs and continued on with her storytelling.

At some point, she realized, this was the best night she'd had in a long time.

Chapter Text

The morning bell had barely rung, and Karen was already packing her camera and notebook up in her bag.

"Where are you headed?" Ellison asked, crossing his arms. Karen hadn't even turned on her computer to start her work for the day.

"I got approved to cover the tennis championships with Melvin today, remember?" Karen yawned.

"That could be good, you always nail the sports details," he commented, not acknowledging that he forgot she was leaving.

"It'll be nice to get out of here for a while too," Karen stretched before throwing on her backpack.

"Don't get too attached, not every front page can be about sports," he warned.

Karen ignored his jab and headed to the parking lot for the pep bus. Melvin found her outside and proceeded to explain why the day would be so incrediby exciting.

He was practically jumping in his seat the whole hour ride up. He gave Karen notes on each player and a synopsis of their strengths and weaknesses.

"Her name is Jessica, she's the new star in the single's bracket. She's Trish's sister," he pointed at the girl a few seats in front of them.

Karen pretended to be taking extensive notes on each. In truth she was just writing their names and ranks.

They arrived at the tennis complex a half hour early, giving them plenty of time to take team pictures and Marci's close ups.

During the games, Melvin explained all the rules, even though Karen could follow the process perfectly well. In any case, Melvin was still the best person to watch any game with. He was a constant source of enthusiasm and excitement.

Karen correctly assumed that the moment Betsy and Marci's game came up Melvin would stop talking. He was completely transfixed. Karen put together that she was the mystery date he'd mentioned on Sunday.

Karen tried to focus on how nice the weather was and how well the teams were doing, just to stop herself from focusing on the nagging emptiness she was feeling. She even had to resist taking an extra antidepressent that morning.

The weekend went great, but the week itself had been a sharp awakening for her. She couldn't stay so busy all the time, she just didn't have the energy.

But she kept trying, scheduling as many activities and trips and nights out with friends just to keep herself from having to think for any length of time.

The day itself went well in all, with plenty of excitement and hot dogs. The sun was beating down on them in the stands, and Karen knew her hat wouldn't be enough protection for her pasty complexion.

Jessica had taken first place overall in Ladie's single's, and Betsy and Marci came in second. The boys were generally disappointing, except for Brett Mahoney's respectable third place performance.

There was plenty to write about, from the solid goodbye game of the seniors to the budding hope in newcomers like the young Jessica Jones. It would be a great headliner, Karen could already tell.

They all boarded the pep bus and Karen headed straight for her quiet seat in the back. The team was always chatty, but a little less so after their long day.

Melvin creeped back to their seat and leaned in close to Karen.

"Can you hand me my bag?" he whispered.

"Yeah," she held it out to him, "Is everything alright?"

He blushed, "Betsy invited me to sit next to her."

Karen gasped, "Oh my God, good luck!" She gave him a thumbs up.

He returned the gesture nervously and walked to the front of the bus.

Karen leaned back and stared out the window, trying to wind down from the days excitement. The sun was still shining through the window, aggravating the sunburn she surely already had. She used her jacket as a blanket and leaned her head back to sleep.

Her tactic of ignoring how she felt worked well when she was busy, but faltered when she was alone with her thought. She learned to opt for sleep.

Just as her eyes started to close, her phone buzzed.

It was Claire. Claire never called her.

"Hey," Karen answered, trying to wake herself up.

"Hey Karen, how was the game?" Claire asked quickly, sounding upset.

"It was fine, are you okay?" Karen asked in concern.

"No," she replied honestly. "I'm not good."

"What happened?" Karen sat up in her seat.

"We had another fight today."

"What? Again?" Karen covered her free ear to hear Claire better.

"Frank is in the hospital," she blurted.

Karen's stomach dropped.

"It was a group of football players, probably getting revenge on him," Claire continued.

"Is he okay?" Karen asked calmly, feeling like she might puke.

"He's in the ICU," Claire sighed. "It was a bloody fight. I watched Shirley clean him up before the ambulance came," Claire stopped for a breath, "It was scary shit."

"Oh my God," Karen rubbed her forehead. She should have seen this coming. But he had seemed so calm on Sunday? So balanced and well asjusted? So pleasant to be with? What happened to him?

"Are you going to visit him?" Claire finally asked.

"Well, yeah," she replied instantly, "I need to, and I'm the only person he knows here."

"That's true. He probably could use it."

She bit her lip in worry. "Will you come with me?" Karen pleaded.

"Karen," Claire sounded apprehensive.

"Please, I don't want to go alone," she goaded her. "You know how I feel about hospitals."

"Sure," she answered in defeat, "You owe me."

"Okay, we're about 20 minutes from the school," Karen looked out the window at the roadsign. "I'll walk right over when we get back."

"Okay," Claire confirmed, "I'll see you then."

Karen spent the rest of the ride in a panic, wondering if Frank was okay, why the fight had happened, and if they would even let them visit. Her anxiety was spiking and she felt carsickz

She'd connected with him. She'd seen kindness, goodness in him. They were confirmed friends. Now he was fighting again? Why?

As they pulled up to the school, she left the bus last and slipped away from the school before Marci could notice. Her feet headed the path towards Midtown General.

The walk was a good mile, but Karen was practically jogging. She reached the waiting room in 15 minutes, dodging the angry drivers in the parking lot.

Claire was sitting in the corner of the waiting room with her biology textbook and notes.

"Any news?" Karen asked as she put down her backpack and took the seat next to Claire.

"He's stable," she stated, "I walked past the heart monitors."

"Has anyone come in to see him?" Karen was out of breath, but she kept the questions coming.

"An older guy was here. He was wearing this military uniform and he looked all tough and burly," she impersonated.

"That's his uncle, Schoonover," Karen bit her lip.

Claire leaned forward. "He left a half hour ago."

Karen sighed. "Did you see the fight, or did you hear why it started?"

"All I heard was that a group jumped him in the bathroom."

"Does Luke know anything?" Karen tried to be subtle.

Claire looked at her from the side and frowned. "Are you going there?"

"Come on," Karen slanted her head. "You know I know."

"He doesn't," Claire admitted. "I asked him."

"Damn," Karen cursed under her breath. Claire's relationship with Luke was under the radar, and bringing it up like that was completely ill advised.

Claire put down her book and flipped through a magazine instead. Karen propped her head up and read over her shoulder.

"Should I bring him flowers?" Karen asked as they entered their second hour of waiting.

"No, definitely not," Claire shook her head, "It's gonna look like you're in love or something."

Karen sighed and started to count ceiling tiles.

They sat curled up in the waiting room until 8 o'clock, reading health magazines and watching soap operas with subtitles.

Finally, a nurse walked into the room. Everyone stood up straighter in their seats. "Is anyone here for Castle?"

Karen and Claire jolted out of their seats. "Yes," Claire answered confidently for them both.

"Good, he's asking," she nodded. "Come with me."

Karen took a deep breath and composed herself before walking into the room. She tried mentally to prepare herself.

Whatever she pictured, it wasn't this.

Frank was swollen past recognition.

His eyes were bruised and his face was covered by a breathing apparatus. Each inhale sounded like a plane taking off.

"Hi, Frank," she finally managed.

He took a moment. His breathing was too heavy and ragged for him to talk well. "Hey, friend."

Karen smiled, but stayed silent, unsure of what she should say or do.

"Is... my uncle...," he tried to ask.

"He left a few hours ago," Karen supplied, watching his face fall at the news.

"Oh."

He was hard to look at this way, all puffed up and tense. Karen couldn't really tell what he was thinking or feeling.

In any case, she moved forward and sat on the very edge of his bed, keeping a solid distance between them. She fiddled with the zipper on her jacket out of nervousness.

"How did you-," he wheezed out as he looked up at her.

"Claire told me, and we thought you would like company, maybe?" the plan sounded worse now that she said it aloud.

"It's okay if you don't," Claire assured. "We won't be offended."

He shook his head to the side almost imperceptibly. "Thanks," he managed, "for coming."

Karen smiled and relaxed her shoulders a little bit. "I um," she reached in her bag, "I got you this bear," she started to laugh quietly.

Frank chuckled with her and reached to take the stuffed animal with his bruised knuckled.

"I knew you would need something like this to keep you going," she teased.

"Thanks," he smiled broad and crooked, looking away from Karen.

Frank's doctor was talking loudly outside of the door to a nurse about safety with violent patients.

"We should go," Claire gracefully suggested.

Karen didn't feel right leaving, but she followed Claire nonetheless.

"Drink everything you can, and eat every meal, Frank," she smiled at him, "You have to take it easy, and don't do anything they can do for you," she instructed.

He nodded, still seeming to be in a slight daze, but also amused by Karen's worried antics.

"Do you want me to come here after school tomorrow and bring your work?" she offered.

His dark eyes bore into hers. It took him a moment to process her offer.

"Yeah," he answered finally. "That would... help."

"Okay," she smiled, "See you then."

Karen got up and dodged out of the room, nearly running to catch up with Claire.

"That was good of you," she nodded. "Better than I could do."

"I want him to be okay, and I want to help him," she sighed, "But God, his knuckles are bloody, Claire."

"Oh, I saw," she loudly confirmed, shaking her head, "I don't know about this."

Karen sighed. Her feelings were all jumbled and incoherent.

"I don't either."

Chapter Text

The school day was almost at its close, and Karen Page was running around the school collecting schoolwork for her new friend.

"I need Frank Castle's makeup work," she asked Mrs. Hogarth, the Physics teacher.

"Are you taking it to him?" she pried, grabbing a pen.

"Yes," Karen answered plainly.

"Well," she rolled her eyes, handing Karen a post-it with page numbers, "Stay safe."

"Thank you," Karen replied quickly and started back for the hallway.

Karen was late for the weekly newspaper meeting, and as Editor, she wasn't being very professional.

She snuck in the room and saw the team all assembled and talking quietly amongst themselves. Ellison gave her a nod.

"Okay, let's start," Karen smiled, taking her seat at the head of the table. "Brett, what are the statistics for last weeks issue?"

Brett Mahoney, the prospective valedictorian, mediocre tennis player, and proud math nerd, absolutely reveled in this part of every meeting.

"Well, our pick up numbers are up from the last issue, we saw a 3% increase in the number of students taking a copy at their lunchtime. As far as satisfaction, our samples show 7% higher rates of interest in this issue compared to the last, with especially high ratings in the fashion section."

The group all clapped quietly, as was customary, even when the numbers were bad.

"Thanks Brett, and congratulations Melvin," she directed attention towards him with a wave. "Good work on the spring fashion piece. Can you give us a preview of what you're working on for this issue?"

"Yeah," he looked down, "For sports, I'm covering the softball and baseball championships, and for fashion, I thought maybe I could do something on cap and gown styles through the years."

The table oohed. "I like that," Brett nodded with approval.

"Can't wait to read it," Karen smiled, "Claire, Health?"

Claire looked sleepy and distracted, and Karen felt bad for stressing her out. "Yeah, it's gonna be on how to fight pollen allergies and how to eat right and stay active over the summer."

"Sounds informative," Karen encouraged her, "I like it. Trish?"

Trish Walker, arguably the most understanding person Karen knew, looked to be struggling with how to phrase something. "I don't know quite how to put this."

"Go ahead," Karen encouraged.

Trish was hesitant, but she continued. "Most of the questions I received were about safety, particularly after the fights," she stated plainly. "One freshman writes, 'I thought I was safe here. I though I'd never see another student's skull opened in front of me. I have a blood stain on my shirt now. How can I even come back now?"

The room went silent. Karen's stomach rolled.

"Well, we all know how we feel about censorship," Brett mumbled.

Karen spoke up. "We can't avoid the subject."

"But repeating it over and over is only going to add to the students' feelings of unease," Claire argued.

"I think you should address it, just don't be repetitive," Ellison but in, getting the final word on the subject.

"I wanted input on something related," Karen gently began, "I'm working on an interview piece with Frank Castle."

Claire gave her a harsh look.

"I don't know if we should go there," Brett put a hand out.

"I mean kids aren't used to violence at their school," Trish defended Brett's opinion. "If we endorse this new student we could lose our credibility with the student body."

"It's biased," Melvin stated simply.

"Yeah," Karen raised an eyebrow. "That's a good point."

"If you were to do something impartial where you got Nobu's side too...," Brett alluded.

"I understand," Karen nodded, "Thanks for the input."

There went that plan.

"Anything else?" Ellison asked.

The room stayed silent.

"Excellent work you guys," Karen praised them, "We'll see each other next week, make sure to email me your articles by Thursday."

The students packed up their bags and started to head home. Ellison retreated back into his office to finish up whatever he was working on.

"Claire," Karen tried to catch her before she left.

Claire turned around and gave Karen her ultimate look of disapproval. "I don't think you should have told them about that," she shook her head.

"No kidding," Karen sighed.

"What's your plan?"

"I'm going to make it amazing and show them next meeting," she stated calmly.

"You're going there now, aren't you?" Claire shook her head.

"I said I would," Karen shrugged. "I'll text you and let you know I'm safe if you want."

"I'm not your mom," Claire sighed.

Karen just smiled and silently thought about how grateful she was that Claire cared about her.

"I'm heading out," Karen waved to her as she left the building and started her walk for the hospital.

Her walk wasn't as fast as the day before, but now she was loaded down with books and sports drinks for Frank.

The nurse at the front desk waved her through, recognizing her from the day before.

Karen knocked on the door lightly, taking a deep inhale to calm herself down.

"Come in," he called softly.

Karen was glad to see he was sitting up fully and hadn't been sleeping.

"Hey," she greeted, trying to stay quiet as she stepped in.

Frank's face was mostly back to its normal proportions, even though it was still bruised purple. "Hey," he smirked at her.

"How do you feel?" she asked as she walked in, setting down her bags.

"A little better," he told her, completely lying.

"You look better," she told him.

He didn't reply, instead he only vaguely smiled and looked away shyly.

"This is your homework from physics," she held up the post it note and stuck it to his book on the table. "In English, you have to finish reading The Heart of Darkness by the end of the week; History- you're exempt because the teacher is afraid to make you mad," she continued honestly, "And you have a current event report due in ROTC."

"What about Spanish?"

"You take Spanish?" she raised an eyebrow and plopped down in the chair next to his bed.

"Yeah," he nodded, "Did they not tell you?"

"Yeah, no, it wasn't on your schedule. I didn't go to that one," she was perplexed. She picked up his schedule from the office, but there was no record of a Spanish class there.

"I bet they switched me out of it," he looked away, "That's the class I had with...," he started, but stopped himself.

Karen tried desperately to change the subject.

"Check the tv, I bet the hospital has a novela channel," she smiled.

He reached for the remote and scrolled through until they reached a dramatically acted soap opera with beautiful actors and English subtitles.

Frank turned off the subtitles, "This is good practice."

Karen could make out absolutely nothing, only that the two guys were angry at each other.

"What are they saying?" Karen asked.

"Did you not take Spanish?" he looked over at her and squinted.

"French," she explained.

"Oh, figures," he rolled his eyes.

"What does that mean?" she asked defensively.

"Nothing," he smiled, "Anyway, this guy is mad at the other guy because the other guy's been flirting with his wife. They're probably having an affair," he explained.

"Have you seen this show before?" she started to grin.

"No," he quickly defended himself. "But I know the formula."

Karen didn't pry any further, but the thought of Frank watching soap operas in his free time made her smile.

He translated for her roughly, telling her what specific words meant and why one character was fighting another.

Karen was enjoying watching the show, but in truth, she was enjoying Frank's explanations more.

Once the third episode ended and the one man had shot the other, Frank and Karen took a break.

"Are you doing okay here?" Karen asked, noticing his bleak expression.

"It's a hospital," he shrugged. The nurses are nice, and I get fed all the time."

"Was your uncle here today?" she asked

"He came by before his rotation," he nodded, looking down, "He's not, y'know, touchy feely or anything."

Karen nodded, "Makes sense. This seems lonely though, I'm sorry you have to go through this."

"You're never alone, are you?" Frank realized.

"What?" she asked, not fully understanding what he was trying to say.

"Every time I see you, you're with someone, or you're going somewhere, every day, all the time," he observed.

Karen was self conscious now, "I guess I just try to stay busy so I don't have to think about anything," she admitted, surprising herself with her own brutal honesty.

"Yeah," he chuckled and looked away from her, "I just think it's good to learn how to be alone, and to be okay with it."

"Yeah," Karen agreed, fully aware she had absolutely no skill in that department.

"Trying to stay busy just to distract yourself works for awhile," he seemed to be speaking from experience, "But it doesn't last. You'll wear yourself out that way."

Karen's phone started to buzz on the table before she could respond.

It was Matt.

She ignored it.

"If you have something you have to do-," Frank tried to give her an out if she needed it.

"No, I can stay," she shook her head. "I need your number, by the way, in case something like this happens again," she tried to bring up casually to avoid any awkwardness.

"Sure," he chuckled, not letting her know if these situations were recurring for him. He took the phone and programmed in his number.

"Turn the tv back on, I want to see if Ricardo lives," Karen smiled as he handed back her phone.

Frank smiled and turned the show on, and they watched together, listening to the soft hum of the machines and the loud Spanish arguments and passionate monologues of the characters.

"See, Ricardo isn't going to die," Frank explained as the episode started to close, "Because Valencia is pregnant and-," he looked over to Karen.

She was asleep.

Frank smiled and muted the tv. He left on the subtitles so he could tell her how it ended when she woke up.

It was nice to have company, he thought, even when she was asleep.

Chapter Text

The school day was long over, but Karen Page was staying in the library to study Calculus with Brett and Foggy. A test was scheduled for the end of the week, and Karen felt enormously ill-prepared.

"What did you get for four?" Brett asked Karen. She just scooted her notebook towards him.

She didn't see the point in studying with Brett, because he always had the right answer and there was no point in him even trying to learn more.

Karen, on the other hand, was in a constant state of doing problems wrong without fully understanding why they weren't coming out right.

Foggy just tagged along to write down the answers and turn in correct homework. Studying for Foggy was done the night before a test. Somehow, he had pulled a miraculous 94 average out of the air.

"Where'd you go yesterday, Karen?" Foggy asked as he used a rubber band and his pencil as a slingshot. "We thought we'd see you at the diner."

"I brought Frank his makeup work," she told him bluntly, not extensively caring what he thought about it.

Both Brett and Foggy turned to her immediately.

"What?" they asked in unison, eyebrows raised and disappointed looks on their faces.

"He needed someone to bring him his work, and I'm the only person he knows here," she told them simply, not affected by their doubt.

"I still don't trust him," Foggy shook his head, "He was too friendly at the debate."

"Why is that a reason not to trust someone?" she asked in disgust, "You're not thinking logically, Foggy."

"My dad thinks he'll be in jail by graduation if he keeps going this way," Brett commented, shaking his head from side to side.

Brett was speaking of Police Sergeant Mahoney, who led the small police department of Midtown with an iron fist. Drug rings in Midtown were barely heard of these days, and petty crime rates had fallen dramatically because of Mahoney's strong leadership and push for reform and rehabilitation in the community.

"You have ROTC with Frank though, don't you?" Karen squinted at Brett, knowing he had seen the good side of her friend.

"Yeah, I do," he nodded, "And he always seems nice in there. Like a good, respectful kid. But once he gets out in the hall, he's a monster," Brett shook his head.

"I've never really talked to Nobu," Karen admitted.

Foggy squinted, "Are you trying to justify what Frank did?"

"No," Karen defended herself, "I'm just trying to make sense of it. Plenty of people don't like Nobu."

"But that doesn't excuse what he did," Brett argued, "Just because someone's an ass doesn't mean you can beat their heads in."

"But we don't know why he did it," Karen defended. "What if Nobu actually did something wrong?"

"You mean Frank hasn't told you why he beat this kid up?" Brett smiled, patronizing Karen.

"I mean," Karen started to defend him, "He hasn't," she conceded.

But that still didn't make him guilty. Karen wanted desperately to continue the argument, but she decided letting it go would be best. She knew how to choose her battles.

Foggy's phone vibrated harshly against the table.

"Marci keeps calling me, and I think she wants to break up," Foggy sighed, leaning back and rubbing his face.

"Why don't you answer then?" Karen asked in annoyance. She was beyond done with these petty fights.

"I don't want to go through it again. It's just so pointless and silly."

"So you want to stay with her?" Karen tried her best to bring him back to reality.

"I mean, I don't even care," he tried unsuccessfully to play it cool.

Karen and Brett shared a look. Foggy and Marci would always end up getting back together. Regardless of how bad the fight was, they'd make up. It was like they were stuck in a time loop.

Karen's phone vibrated in her pocket.

There was a new text from Kevin.

"Don't forget your appointment! Love you!" he sent, following the text with 20 different emoticons.

"Shit," she said aloud.

Brett gave her a questioning look.

"I need to bounce," she told them, "I have an appointment I forgot about."

She packed up her book and ignored Foggy's protests. He only wanted her to stay so he could copy her work anyway.

"I'll see you guys tomorrow," she promised as she ran out the door.

As Karen ran through the school's lawn, she realized she had made a grave mistake.

She had completely forgotten about bringing school work to Frank. She pulled out her phone and found the newest contact saved.

"Hey Frank, I actually can't come to the hospital today, because I have an appointment I forgot about," she rushed out.

"That's okay," he told her, sounding a little disappointed. "I'm actually getting out in a few hours."

"Really? That's great!" she grinned, excited for him.

"Yeah," he chuckled, "It'll be nice."

"I'll send you a picture of the page numbers for physics," she assured him.

"Yeah, that works fine."

"By the way," she added, "There's the baseball game on Wednesday night, do you want to come?" she asked before convincing herself not to.

He took a minute to respond, "Yeah, I should be able to."

"Great, okay," she smiled, "We'll make plans."

"Sounds good," he was trying to end the conversation, "Bye."

"Bye."

Karen knew that Foggy and Brett would hardly see Frank as dangerous if they saw him like this, or if they saw him outside of school at all. He was a good person, and Karen didn't need anyone's approval to spend time with him.

Karen shoved the phone in her purse and opened the door to Fisk Psychiatric Services.

Thankfully, her doctor was standing at the front desk with the receptionist. Dr. Fisk was a tall woman with a thick accent and semi-goofy smile. She seemed to like Karen, as most adults did, for her politeness and self-reliance.

"Karen! Thought you were a no show," she gently greeted.

"I'm so sorry I'm late," Karen sighed, out of breath.

"It's completely fine," she waved her through to the office. "We'll do this quick."

Karen took a seat on the couch and set down her purse and backpack as Dr. Fisk shut the door.

"How has your current medication been working out for you?" Dr. Fisk pulled out her notepad and made a new heading.

"Not well," Karen admitted plainly.

"You've been experiencing the same level of symptoms?" she leaned forward.

"I really just don't feel any different now than I did before we even started," Karen stated in defeat.

Mrs. Fisk nodded in understanding. "How have you been coping with your symptoms, apart from the medicine?"

"Well, mainly I just try to stay busy, with friends and schoolwork, and whatever I can. That way I don't have to think about anything."

"What do you do when no one can go out with you, or if you have nothing left to do?" she tilted her head.

"Sleep," Karen admitted, slightly uncomfortable.

"That can work, for a while, but you're going to exhaust yourself eventually."

"Someone told me the exact same thing yesterday," Karen smiled to herself.

"It sounds like you should try a new medication. Would you be willing?" she quickly asked Karen, standing up with energy and excitement.

"Sure," Karen shrugged, "Might as well."

"That's the spirit," Dr. Fisk laughed, "I'll go see what options there are for you," she walked out of the room to look at Karen's file.

Karen didn't like being in rooms alone, and this room in particular was especially lethal. Her feet bobbed nervously up and down. New medication wasn't scary to her, but staying in the office for any length of time was horrifying.

It felt like ages before Dr. Fisk finally came back to the room with new hope for Karen.

"I found something that might work for you," she smiled, "It's relatively new, and it has a different makeup than the anti-depressants you've been taking."

"Sounds hopeful," Karen commented.

"Let's get the prescription filled and start on this low dose for the first day. I'll write you out a schedule for the dosage increases," she told her as she wrote out the prescription.

"Okay," Karen nodded obediently.

"Call and tell me how it works by the end of next week. It may take longer to see any change though, so don't worry if you're not seeing changes."

Karen nodded along.

"Also, watch out for any reaction, or if you feel strange, let me know."

Karen just kept nodding in agreement.

"If all is well, I'll see you in another month," she clapped and handed the paper to Karen.

"Thank you so much," Karen grabbed her bags and shook hands with the doctor.

"It's not a problem, you're always quick," Dr. Fisk waved it off.

"I'll talk to you soon," Karen assured her.

"Good luck," she grinned as Karen left the office.

Karen headed straight for the pharmacy without missing a single beat. The corner drug store was dilapidated and "sketchier than drawing pad" as Kevin would say, but Karen was used to the place.

Karen went up to the window and gave her papers to the pharmacist, who kindly smiled, recognizing Karen from her monthly refills. "A new one?" she asked as she read the prescription.

"Yeah, I'm giving it a try," she smiled back.

"It'll be two hours," the pharmacist yawned. "You can take a seat."

Karen was anticipating this, and in these situations, she could not afford to spend two hours just sitting and thinking.

Every month when Karen got her refill, she slept in the waiting room.

It wasn't graceful or dignified, but Karen had perfected the art of public sleeping. She kept her mouth closed and body compact to avoid crowding anyone who came in.

She was out in under 5 minutes. There was no thought or effort required to put Karen to sleep. She had learned how to just zone out and let sleep come, no matter the situation.

Two hours later, the pharmacist shook Karen's shoulder to wake her up, "Get up, honey."

Karen stirred awake and took her medicine with a kind smile and thank you. She bought a candy bar while paying, so she wouldn't have to make herself dinner.

With her new medicine and nutritious dinner, Karen started back down the road to her house.

She walked slowly, like she was weighed down. The wind was blowing against her, whipping through her hair and making the older houses creak audibly.

It was a lonely feeling, just walking down Bluebell, the sky grey and bleak and the wind stinging at her eyes. Kevin was still at work, as late as it was, and Karen had to spend the night alone. She enjoyed her dinner with a tall glass of milk and a few slices of bread.

She took a fourth of a new pill and slept the night on the couch, leaving a note for her brother that she remembered the appointment.

As she listened to the wind whip harshly against the sides of her old house, she felt the old emptiness and the well-worn anxiety take hold. Karen was starting to exhaust herself, and it wasn't long before something had to change.

Chapter Text

When Karen woke up, she knew something wasn't right.

The day started at 3 AM, when Marci called her crying.

"It's not fair," she heaved, "He's putting me through this again. And-and do you know what the worst part is?"

"What?" Karen replied as she stuffed her mouth with a breakfast of cheese puffs.

"I'm not going to have a date to prom!" she wailed.

Karen ended up walking over to Marci's house in the dead of night to comfort her. She was really just that kind of friend, regardless of how she was treated. Whether that was a good or bad trait was still up for debate.

Foggy ended up calling her at 4. Karen had to sneak into Marci's bathroom to console him.

"I'm really worried about her," he confessed, "I'm afraid she's really hurt this time."

"Well, she's been crying for 8 hours, so...," Karen replied, more than a little fed up.

"You're at her house?! Don't let her know I called," he directed.

"Okay," Karen half committed.

"Promise! You have to promise!"

"No," she shook her head, "I'll see you at school."

Karen was stuck in the middle of a war, and she really was not feeling up to fighting at all.

Her day flew by in a haze. Despite all of the difficult work she'd been given and the pressing deadline of putting the paper together, she just couldn't focus well enough to stay on task. Her head was absolutely pounding.

She ignored Foggy for most of the day and ate lunch in the English room with Mr. Ellison to avoid picking sides between Foggy and Marci.

As she left Calculus to go home for the day, she set eyes upon none other than Matt Murdock, back from another one of his escapades.

"Matt?" she walked up to him. "Showing up unannounced again. Where've you been this time?"

"I went on a trip to New York with Elektra," he smiled, "I called you a couple nights ago, but you didn't answer?"

Karen barely remembered. "Yeah, sorry, I was at the hospital."

"Wait, were you okay?" he put a hand on her arm.

"Yeah, I was just visiting Frank," she told him plainly.

"You're staying safe around him, right?" he asked in concern.

"What?" she jerked away from him.

"Karen, don't freak out, I just care about you," Matt told her honestly, being completely genuine.

A fire was fanned deep within her. And it wasn't feeling natural or at all intended to be there.

"Since when do you even give a damn about me?!" Karen roared.

Matt looked at her in shock.

"You flirt with me, you make me feel awful every time you ignore me, you don't respect my decisions, and now you think you can control me?"

"Wait-,"

"No, Matt," she started to notice that she was crying. "I'm done with your bullshit."

"Karen, what-,"

"Next time you disappear, don't fucking come back."

She slammed the school door behind her and stomped through the grass until she reached the pavement. Karen didn't usually get angry, but when she did, she completely lost control.

When she reached her doorstep, feeling a little bit nauseous and light headed, she realized the mistake she made.

She left the damn house key in Ellison's office.

Something was not right. Mentally and physically, Karen was not feeling okay. She was shaking all over and her head was getting all light and fuzzy.

She sat down on the porch steps and leaned against the stone railings, closing her eyes and trying to breathe through it.

Karen was crying, and hard. Her chest was racked with sobs and her hand cupped around her mouth as she hyperventilated.

An alarm sounded on her phone. It was time for her to take a small dose of the new medicine.

She reached in her purse for the bottle and fished it out from under her calculator and granola bars.

She took two pills. It wouldn't matter, she figured, if she took an extra.

And she just sat there, feeling lost and sick on her front porch steps. Hoping she could fall asleep or at least find some reprieve.

A few minutes passed, and Karen felt exponentially worse. Her stomach rolled with pain and her skin was starting to get even itchier.

She realized.

It was the medicine.

She started to sob louder. She was having a reaction and she was too distracted to even notice. The itchiness, the dizziness, the nausea. It was all there. The situation was absolutely horrifying.

Karen needed help.

Kevin was still at work, and she knew he would make too much of a fuss.

She didn't want Marci. She didn't want Foggy. She didn't want Matt, most of all.

Karen wanted Frank. And he was the perfect person to help her.

"Are you at home?" she texted him.

She laughed bitterly at how casual she was being given the situation.

"Yeah, why?" he replied after a moment's pause.

"Can you come over for a minute?" she could barely text with her hands shaking so hard.

He didn't reply, but 30 seconds later, she saw his front door open. He walked off his own porch and crossed the road to meet her.

They met eyes.

Frank immediately looked concerned, like he wanted to ask a thousand questions at once.

"How are you?" she asked him between sniffles as she pulled her hair out of her face.

"Fine," he quickly told her, "How are you?"

"Same," she laughed a little, "I'm fine," she wiped her cheek.

"Did something happen?" he sat down beside her on the stone steps.

"Marci and Foggy broke up," she muttered, her chest heaving.

"Yeah?" He encouraged her to continue.

"And I left my keys at school," she motioned to the locked door.

"Uh huh."

"And um, I started a new medication, the day before yesterday," her chest started to heave again.

Frank scooted closer to her and put a hand on her shoulder in worry. "What's happening?"

"I think I'm having a bad reaction," she admitted, her chest heaving as her anxiety started to spike. "Look at this."

Karen rolled up her sleeve, revealing an inflamed red rash covering her skin.

Frank could see what was going on and it absolutely scared him to death. "When did you take it?"

"Like a half hour ago," she sniffed.

Not good, he thought. Really not good.

"Okay," Frank exhaled, his mind spinning a little bit. "Can you stand up?"

"Yeah," she claimed, but Frank basically had to pull her to her feet.

She leaned on him, and he held her in place firmly. "I'm dizzy," she told him, walking slower.

"We're almost there," he reassured her as they reached his driveway.

"What are we doing?" she asked, starting to get a little bit delirious.

"We're getting in my car," he told her, opening the passenger door and helping her in gently. "And we're going to the emergency room."

"Okay," she nodded, clutching her stomach.

"What are your symptoms?" he asked while she could still respond.

"I think I'm gonna puke," she told him in response.

"Okay, don't," he suggested.

He drove to Midtown General at breakneck speed and found a parking place as quick as he could.

Frank hopped out and opened the passenger door, "Can you walk, Karen?" he asked loudly.

She barely responded with a "Yes," and then tried to get out of the car. Her blood pressure was bottoming out, making her too dizzy to stand on her own. Frank practically carried her through the parking lot and into triage.

The woman at the front desk stood immediately as they walked through the doors. "What's going on?" she asked quickly.

"She started a new medication and she's having a reaction," he explained as quickly as he could.

"Is she conscious?" she asked, looking warily at Karen.

"Yeah, but I think she's losing it," he looked down at her.

"I'll get her a bed," she told him, picking up the phone.

"What's-what's going-," Karen started to ask, looking up at Frank wide-eyed.

"It's okay, Karen," he shushed her, rubbing her back.

She gripped onto his shirt and closed her eyes.

A team of nurses came through the door a minute later and wheeled a bed over to them. Karen was still latched onto Frank for support, but two nurses pulled her off him and helped her onto the bed.

"What did she take?" the lead nurse turned to Frank as they started down the hallway.

"It was a new medication, I think she has depression, maybe anxiety, it's in her purse," he reached for the bag on her arm and rifled through until he found the bottle.

The nurse took the bottle from him and read the label.

"Do you know how much she took?"

"No, but she had her last dose a half hour ago and she started yesterday night," Frank was worried he didn't know enough to help her.

"Okay, was she complaining about nausea, breathing problems, itchiness?" the nurse asked as they pushed Karen's bed into a space against the wall.

"Yes," Frank stated confidently, "She almost puked in the car, and there's a rash on her arms."

"Anaphylaxis," the nurse yelled to the others.

"She's going into shock," another yelled back.

Karen had passed out completely, her eyes were rolled back and her face was starting to swell.

Frank was absolutely panicking.

The oldest nursed had an Epi-Pen prepared and rolled Karen's leg towards her.

She leaned back and jabbed the needle straight through her jeans and into Karen's thigh.

Frank nearly passed out he was so overwhelmed.

The nurses were waiting with bated breath as one put two fingers on Karen's jugular and looked at his watch.

"Heart rate is slowing down," he reported. The nurses smiled and sighed in relief.

"She'll be conscious in a minute or two."

Frank had to sit down to take it all in.

"It's good you got her here so soon," a nurse commented, putting a hand on Frank's shoulder, "A few minutes later, and we might have lost her."

Karen stirred just a little bit, and Frank shot out of his chair.

"Hey, Karen," he whispered, trying to keep his voice soft.

"What's-," she started, her eyes darting around the room.

"You're fine," he shushed her. "You had a bad reaction and they took care of it."

"Oh," she looked back at him, blinking slowly, still mostly out of it.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"I'm just tired," she rolled herself into fetal position.

"You can sleep," he assured her.

"Okay," she put a hand under her head, "Goodnight."

Frank almost laughed at how quickly she just zoned out and started to snore.

He sat back down in his chair and breathed a sigh of relief.

Just as soon as he had settled, Karen's purse started to vibrate. Frank pulled her phone out and looked at the caller ID.

It was Kevin.

Frank hadn't thought about this, and at the moment, he was horrified.

"Hello?" he answered, trying to sound calm.

"Wait, who's this?" Kevin asked suspiciously.

"This is Frank Castle, I'm your neighbor, and I'm actually- well, me and Karen are in the emergency room. She is completely fine though," he assured.

"WHAT?!"

"Wait, are you saying 'what' because you can't hear or because you don't believe me?" Frank considered.

"WHAT HAPPENED TO HER?"

"She started a new medication, and she had a bad reaction. She even went into anaphylactic shock," he explained.

Frank was realizing that he was very bad at calming people down.

"I'M COMING DOWN THERE," Kevin yelled before hanging his phone up.

Frank took a moment to enjoy the last few moments of calm and quiet, as Karen slept and the only sounds in the room were the hums of machines and the quiet beeps of heart monitors.

He knew that when Kevin came, quiet would be hard to find.

Chapter Text

When Karen woke up again, she was completely horizontal in a starched white room with little to no idea what was happening. When she looked over at Frank sitting in the chair by her bed, she started to piece the situation together.

"Morning," Frank greeted, standing up and putting his hands in his pockets.

"Hey," she mumbled, still not fully aware of what was going on.

"You're at Midtown General, in the emergency room, you had a reaction last night to your new medication," he explained to her slowly, trying to help her get situated and fully aware.

"Right," she nodded, the memories slowly coming back to her. She almost puked in Frank's car. For some reason that memory was especially fresh.

"What happened-," she started to ask, "I don't really remember after we got into your car."

"Well," he thought back, "We went into the lobby, and the receptionist thought you were already dead. You were getting woozy and saying weird stuff by the time they got you in a bed," he recalled. "Then you went into shock, so this nurse, she grabs this giant Epi-Pen and pulls back her arm," he demonstrated, "And she just jabs it into your leg. You were fine after that, you've just been sleeping," he ended melodramatically.

"That's why my leg hurts," she smiled and they laughed together.

"You're fine now," he smiled, swaying from side to side.

"What time is it?" she asked him, pulling her hair out of her mouth ungracefully.

"3 AM," Frank nodded to the clock on the wall.

"I have to be at school in 4 hours," she started to sit up from the stiff bed and move her IV cord out of the way.

"I don't think you're going to school today," Frank shook his head and helped her up.

"Why not?" she asked, grabbing his arm to stay steady.

"Your brother wants to keep you home, I'm pretty sure."

"Was that him yelling earlier?" she asked, recalling some loud yelling in the middle of the night.

"Yeah," Frank laughed, "He's doing paperwork."

Karen rolled her eyes. When she looked up at Frank, she saw that he had deep circles under his eyes, this time not from fighting, just from a lack of sleep.

"You're probably exhausted," she sighed.

"Not as much as you, I'd bet," he smirked.

"Yeah," she smiled and looked down, "That was a fun experience."

"A nurse said you almost died," he told her.

"Why'd you stop me?" she laughed.

Frank's face fell, "What?"

Frank wasn't used to Karen's casually morbid humor.

"I'm joking," she told him soberly, "It's just a joke."

"Oh," he looked puzzled and a little disturbed, "Okay."

Karen realized. Frank knew that she was on anti-depressants. He probably saw her as suicidal.

"So you, um, how can I put this?" she mumbled, "You saw where I'm on the medication, the um, the anti-depressants?"

"You don't have to-," he started to give her an excuse to leave the subject if she wanted to, but she pressed on.

"I've had depression for about three years," she nodded, telling him the entire story so it would all be out in the open. "The pills help sometimes, but mostly they get kind of frustrating, and I just feel really numb a lot."

Frank's expression shifted immediately to complete concern.

"I don't really talk about it to anyone, Claire knows, but people just look at you differently, and they treat you weird when they know. Even Claire looks at me sometimes like she's scared I'm going to jump off a building," she continued, letting it all out.

Frank didn't say a word, he just let her continue in her own time.

"I just want you to know that I'm really happy I didn't die last night," she smiled, "So thanks for making that happen."

He smiled at her, but then looked away, embarrassed. "It's not a big deal-," he tried to minimize the situation.

"It is," she asserted, "It's a really big deal."

"But anyone el-,"

"You were the only person I trusted," she told him.

He opened his mouth to say something, but he stopped himself and just nodded and smiled shyly.

"I guess I owe you my life now, or something like that?" she looked up at him and laughed.

"Oh yeah," he smiled, "Indentured service," he sarcastically added.

The loud sound of boots interrupted their laughter.

Kevin pulled the curtain open and grinned at them. A nurse followed him in and took Karen's wrist to remove her IV.

"You're up?" he asked Karen, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah, Kevin," she sighed at him, "I'm up."

"Take a deep breath," the nurse instructed.

Karen's chest heaved as the needle smoothly left her skin, leaving a small little bead of blood.

"All's well," the nurse nodded at Kevin.

"Okay, kiddo, we're going home," he clapped.

Karen stood up and rolled her sleeve back down, trying to situate herself casually.

"Frank," Kevin turned towards him, "You're my favorite man in the world right now, come here."

Kevin enveloped Frank in a bear hug that nearly lifted him off the ground.

Frank choked out, "No problem," and patted Kevin on the back as best he could.

Kevin set him down and turned to Karen.

"Don't hug me," she warned, "I'm too fragile right now."

"Fine," he let out an exaggerated sigh, "Let's go, we'll see you Frank!" he called as he started down the hallway.

Karen turned to Frank as they walked down the hall together, "We're still on for the game tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "When does it start?"

"7:30," she told him, "But the first innings always suck."

"Ohhh, so baseball's the one with the innings," he feigned realization and grinned at her.

She laughed, "Come over 8," she directed him, "It's a nice walk."

"It's a plan," he nodded and opened the door for her.

They stood in the parking lot for just a moment, about to go their different ways.

"I'd say thanks again, but I'll stop making it weird," Karen laughed, feeling just a little self conscious.

"I'll see you soon," he smiled, looking embarrassed again, but at least he was holding eye contact this time.

"Yeah, till then," she smiled back, feeling something a little strange in her stomach as she watched him head for his car.

She promptly ignored it and stepped into the passenger side of Kevin's truck.

"Do you want ice cream or anything?" Kevin asked as they got in the car.

"I'm not sick," she assured him.

"Uh huh, and I wouldn't know if you were sick because you wouldn't call me," he added bitterly.

"Frank was closer to home, don't get into this."

Kevin was still arguing with her when they got to the house. "I'm just saying that I should be your first call from now on."

"Sure," she agreed half heartedly.

"Okay, now go back to sleep, you sure as hell aren't going to school," he pushed her into the living room and put a blanket on her.

She didn't fight it and found herself sound asleep in minutes.

When she woke up, she really didn't understand what day it was.

She groaned as she got up from the couch, wincing at her headache.

"Good morning, jellybean," Kevin greeted her from the kitchen,

"Hey," she replied simply.

"Frank came and he left that for you," Kevin motioned to a stack of worksheets on the end of the table.

A post it note on top read, "Calc problems: page 424 1-30, all. Hope you feel better, -Frank."

She smiled, that weird stomach drop happening yet again, and that twitch in her lip, where she couldn't stop her grin even when she tried.

"Wait, what time is it?" she finally distracted herself by looking outside.

"6!" Kevin told her, "I'm making dinner, not breakfast!"

Karen groaned, stretching her arms and checking her phone.

She had 3 missed calls from Claire.

"I'll just be a minute," she told Kevin as she retreated back into her room.

Karen plopped down on her bead and selected her friends contact.

"Hello?" Claire's concerned voice answered the phone.

"Hi, Claire," Karen calmly greeted.

"Where were you today?!" she asked quickly.

"I went to the emergency room last night," Karen told her and waited for the freakout.

"Oh my God," she sounded absolutely horrified, "Are you okay?!"

"I'm fine, totally better now," she assured.

"How did it happen, did you eat something?"

"No, Dr. Fisk put me on a new anti-depressant and I was allergic," she rubbed the back of her head.

"So you- oh god, what happened? Did you stop breathing or something?"

"No, it was just itchiness and pukey feeling."

"Did they give you epinephrine?"

"Well, I'm still alive, so yeah."

"How bad did it get, did you go into shock?"

"I know you like health and crap, Claire, but I'm totally okay," she laughed, "I can tell you all about it tomorrow."

"Yeah, okay, you should be resting, are you getting fluids?"

"Yes," she laughed, "I promise I'm being taken care of."

"You should have told me to get your work, I would've brought it to you," she tsked.

"Yeah, actually that's a story in itself. Frank brought me the work," Karen waited for her bad reaction.

"Okay, I need an explanation," she sighed, jumping to conclusions.

"He was the one that took me to the hospital last night."

"Oh," Claire's tone changed, "Wow, okay, that's really great of him."

"Yeah," Karen agreed, "It is."

"Is something...," Claire didn't want to be pushy.

"It's not like," Karen denied, "It's not- I don't know. I'll be at school tomorrow, Kevin can't keep me here forever."

"Okay," Claire chuckled, "I'll talk to you then."

"Bye," Karen smiled before hanging up.

Dinner still wasn't ready, so Karen decided she should get started on something she'd been putting off for too long.

Karen turned on the old desktop computer in the living room and took her seat. It took ten minutes just to boot up, but Karen wasn't impatient over this.

She opened up an old word processor and made a headline, "The Real Frank Castle."

Karen knew that this would be the story that changed everything.

Chapter Text

It was the baseball match up of the century, as far as Karen was concerned. The Midtown Red Devils were taking on the neighboring Baychester Highlanders in a game that at least had garnered the excitement of the students.

Karen's school pride was on full show, her team shirt on display, complete with her bandana and red flats.

She was sitting at the kitchen counter, nervously waiting for Frank to show up. She was second guessing herself and wondering if maybe she was pushing him too far. Maybe he wouldn't want to go out to an event like this.

The doorbell rang. Karen grinned as she opened the door.

"Hi- Oh."

Frank was wearing green. He looked nervous and wonderful, but Karen couldn't hide her disappointment.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, noticing her expression immediately.

Karen sighed, "I don't want to be this way," she bit her lip. "The Highlander's color is green," she sighed again, "You'll get beat up."

"Oh," he looked down at his clothes self consciously.

"I think I have an extra shirt," Karen assured him, "Come in."

She waved him inside and started up the staircase, "Give me just a second."

Frank waited for her in the kitchen, semi grateful Kevin wasn't there to embarrass him. He scanned the house and more carefully inspected it's contents, the decor, the photographs. It all felt -to him- distinctly like Karen. It wasn't definable, the way the soft wall colors and light wood furniture mixed together. But it was her, he knew that.

Karen interrupted his thought as she quietly and quickly descended the steps, red shirt in hand.

"Is it going to fit weird?" Frank asked awkwardly as he eyed the shirt.

"What do you mean?" she questioned.

"It's a girls shirt, right?" he smiled.

Karen laughed, "Go try it on, we'll find out," she pointed him to the bathroom down the hall.

He emerged a minute later from the restroom, green shirt in hand and red shirt on. It was a little bit tight, but it fit him well enough.

His eyebrows raised, waiting for Karen's approval.

She was grinning, "So much better."

"Good," he breathed a sigh of relief. "Let's go then."

Karen locked the door behind them and they set off together into the dusk, heading for the park in front of the school building.

Neither of them said much at first. Karen noticed that Frank was tense, but she didn't want to make it worse by mentioning it.

"I'm still not sure this is right," Frank finally shook his head.

"What's not right?" Karen asked him, trying not to seem too bothered.

Frank was trying hard to put this gracefully, "I know people talk about me, and I don't care about that, I'm okay with it."

"Yeah?" Karen encouraged him.

"But I know they talk about you when you're with me, and I care about that."

Karen nodded, understanding his point.

"If I cared so much what people thought about me I wouldn't have asked you to come," she pointed out, "And I wouldn't have brought you your homework, I wouldn't have interviewed you at the diner, brought you to the debate- I'd probably be dead actually from the allergy."

Frank nodded, still looking unconvinced as they reached the outside of the stadium.

"Also," she tried to assure him, "How much longer will I know these kids anyway?"

"Okay," he conceded with a smirk, impressed by her confidence.

"Come on," Karen directed.

As soon as they entered the stadium, Karen made a beeline for the concessions.

They ducked under the bleachers and headed straight up to the window, and Karen instantly ordered them popcorn and two hot chocolates.

"It's almost May," Frank shook his head as she handed him his steaming hot cup.

"This will be the greatest hot chocolate you will ever drink in your entire life," she promised him.

Karen held the popcorn bucket while Frank held their drinks. The two emerged side by side from under the bleachers, and they headed towards the student section.

All eyes turned to them. Frank almost froze, but Karen was still walking.

"I think we should sit at the top," Karen turned around and casually suggested to Frank.

"Your pick," he smiled, following her up the steps and past the groups of students plastered with red.

They took their seat at the very top of the bleachers, their backs supported by a linked fence. It was an excellent view, Frank had to admit. He could see everyone and everything that was happening.

"I like our uniforms," Frank commented sarcastically,

The baseball team's jerseys were decked out in elaborate hot rod flames, representing their "devilishness". The outfits unceremoniously sent the athletic department into crippling debt, so the students liked to think they were worth it.

"Oh my god, you should see spirit week, everyone wear horns," she laughed.

Karen's phone vibrated.

It was a text from Claire.

"Where'd you go?" the text read.

"Top row, come sit with us," Karen responded.

A few moments later, Claire had ascended the stairs and was coming towards them. She gave Karen an indecipherable look.

"Hi, Frank," Claire greeted, actually keeping polite eye contact, "Hey, Karen."

"What's going on?" Karen asked between mouthfuls of popcorn.

"I have bad news," she grimaced.

"Yeah?"

Claire gently sighed, "I just saw Marci walk in, she's coming to find us."

"Oh, shit," Karen sat down her hot chocolate.

"She's coming," Frank nodded towards the steps, where Marci was headed in their direction. She looked upset, and her eyes were puffy, likely from crying.

Marci looked warily over at Frank before coming close to them.

"Hello, everyone," she dramatically greeted.

"Oh," Karen stood up and hugged Marci, "I didn't know you were coming," she gently told her.

"I just thought it would be good for me to leave the house," she told Karen on the verge of tears.

Karen rubbed her arm up and down to comfort her, "That's a good step."

Marci smiled very briefly and sadly. Karen knew she was enjoying the attention.

"Do you want me to braid your hair?" Karen asked.

"I would absolutely love that," Marci gushed.

Marci took a seat on the bleacher in front of Karen, leaning her back on Karen's knees. Karen brushed her fingers through Marci's hair and began to section the strands off.

She got to work, calmly weaving the strands back and forth. It was calming at least, and she knew that Marci was having a ball.

Frank gently tapped Karen's shoulder. She looked over at him, perplexed.

Frank pointed to the entrance.

Foggy was walking in.

"Shit," Karen looked at him wide eyed.

Frank returned her panicked look.

Claire leaned forward and joined them, shaking her head violently.

"Marci, do you want to go to the concession stand with me?" Karen asked, trying to get her away before she saw Foggy.

"No," Marci sniffed, "I'm just not hungry anymore."

"Really?" Claire tried to help, "Not even the nachos?"

Karen gently pulled Marci's hair so she'd be facing away from Foggy.

"Nachos were his favorite," Marci whispered sadly.

This wasn't working. They all exchanged a look.

"I'll stop him," Frank whispered to Karen and Claire.

"Thank you," Karen mouthed.

He nodded and started down the bleachers. Frank walked up to Foggy and corralled him away from the student's section.

Foggy looked confused and followed Frank under the bleachers and out of Marci's line of sight. Karen and Claire breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

The night went smoother after that. Claire was in a good mood, and they enjoyed just sitting together, watching the game when they wanted and talking to each other when the action was slow. Even Marci joined in a few times, laughing sadly and trying to seem mysterious.

Karen held onto Marci's hair during the seventh inning stretch, because Marci wanted her to redo the braids. In truth, she just liked having her hair played with. Karen knew this and had learned to accept it.

Right as they sat down at the end of the song, Claire nudged Karen and pointed towards the steps.

It was Foggy, heading straight for them.

Frank was walking behind Foggy and staring at Karen and Claire, shaking his head in warning.

Foggy ascended the long bleachers too quickly. His face was red when he reached them, both from anger and exertion.

"It's good to see you Karen, Claire," Foggy curtly greeted, making a point to exclude Marci.

"We didn't know you were coming," Karen smiled politely.

"I didn't know you'd taken sides, Karen," Foggy crossed his arms.

"That's not fair," Karen gave him a disappointed look.

"Tell Foggy I want him to leave," Marci commanded Karen, crossing her arms and looking off in another direction.

"Foggy," Karen took her job mock-seriously, "Marci Stahl would like you to know that she would like for you to leave."

Frank covered his mouth, trying to hide that he was chuckling at Karen's antics.

Foggy's jaw tensed. He wasn't headed for the high road, "You can tell Marci Stahl that Foggy Nelson is enjoying the thought of leaving her stuck up ass."

"YOU SELFISH PRICK!" Marci roared, face turning red.

She stood up from the bleachers, yanking her half completed braid from Karen's hands.

"I'M SELFISH?!" Foggy returned fire.

It was time to get as far away as possible. People were staring, a couple were even coming over to watch more closely.

Karen looked over to Claire, but she had already begun walking in the opposite direction.

"AT LEAST I CAN CARRY A CONVERSATION WITH YOUR PARENTS!"

Karen looked at Frank, and he nodded, no exchange of thoughts needed.

"AT LEAST I'M NOT SECRETLY IN LOVE WITH MY BEST FRIEND!"

They snuck down the bleachers gracefully, unseen in the crowd starting to amass around Marci and Foggy's fight.

"AT LEAST MATT WOULDN'T MAKE ME SHAVE HIS BACK, MARCI!"

"Go, go, go," Karen pushed on Frank's back gently to speed him up.

Frank dodged the crowd in front of them and turned under the bleachers and out of sight.

They kept walking until they reached the far side of the stadium, safely removed from all of Foggy and Marci's drama.

"Better?" Karen asked, slightly out of breath.

"Yeah," he smiled, "This is better.

The far end was removed, and also very sketchy. It was a safe haven for the kids "up to no good", and the little crowds of students tightly packed around each other confirmed that to Karen.

One group of redheads was looking in their direction. In particular, Karen noticed their neighbor, Finn Nesbitt staring at them.

"Why is Nesbitt staring at you like that?" Karen leaned in to ask Frank.

He took a second to respond, looking over his shoulder a moment. "Probably because I stole his dog," Frank smirked at her.

Karen laughed, "How is Max?"

"He's a real piece of work, he's learning to chew my uncle's shoes."

Karen laughed, "I need to meet him."

"He's adorable, you'd love him, but he is hard to handle," Frank grinned. It was obvious how much he cared about his little puppy.

Finn was still staring at them, looking shiftier and less self confident.

"So, Nesbitt isn't trying to like hurt you or anything, is he?" Karen brought it up again, hoping for a more definite answer.

"Not that I know of," he waved it off nonchalantly.

"Isn't that, I mean, doesn't that worry you, though?" she asked in concern.

"That kid's a piece of shit, Karen," he looked her in the eye, "And some day he'll get what he deserves."

Karen's eyebrows raised at Frank's words. It was the first time she had heard him talk like that, and she had to admit, it threw her off. Karen could see that Frank had an undercurrent of unpredictability, but it had never manifested itself in this way.

But his voice was so calm and factual when he said it, like he knew that Nesbitt would be reprimanded.

The thought was interrupted by the sound of the band playing Midtown High's Alma Mater, signaling the end of the game.

"The game's already over?" Karen asked in surprise.

"Do you think we won?" he asked.

"Oh, you would know if we won," Karen smiled. "Kids would be flipping cars."

"Really?"

"No," she laughed, "But we'd at least be screaming or something."

Frank smiled, "Should we head out early?"

"Yeah," she told him. "The parking lot will be a mess."

They snuck out of the stadium quick, each eager to escape the disappointed crowd.

"You know I hate watching baseball?" Frank smiled at her lightly as they walked through the grass.

"What?" she asked in concern.

"Yeah, I know," he shrugged, "It's just not fun to watch."

"Agreed," Karen conceded, feeling a little silly for inviting him.

"But-this has been the best one I've been to," he admitted, feeling a little embarrassed.

"Well, we didn't see much of the game," she laughed.

"Yeah," he smiled, "That helped."

Karen smiled. The night air was warm and humid, leaving a calm and heavy atmosphere around them. Every inhale relaxed her further as they walked down the middle of Bluebell Street.

"You know I'm almost done with your story?" Karen told him. "'The Real Frank Castle'. It's gonna be good."

"Really? I thought you gave that up or something," he looked over at her.

"I'm giving it a go," she told him, "I think people would like reading about you."

Frank nearly blushed. "Are you missing anything for it?" he asked.

"Not so far," Karen looked up at him. "It's been easy to write."

"I'm pretty straightforward," he shrugged.

They had reached Karen's stoop, and neither of them quite knew how to say goodnight.

It just felt strange, and maybe uncomfortable, but Karen wasn't phased by it, considering how wonderful the evening was as a whole.

"Thanks for coming tonight," she smiled at him, feeling grateful.

"Thanks for inviting me," he nodded, "I'm always up for watching your friends fight."

They laughed together and then entered another few moments of silence, neither of them making eye contact.

Finally, they looked at each other at the same moment, and Karen felt herself start to blush.

"Night," she simply said to him.

"See you later," he called as he walked away, hands in his pockets and body swaying side to side.

Karen felt odd as she walked away from him and into her house. There was something different in the way she felt around him, a new nervousness she was experiencing.

She'd felt this way a few times before, but it had always been around people she didn't know well. Once she got to know someone who made her stomach drop and lip twitch, the sensations usually stopped. This was largely the case with Matt, who exasperated her too much to ever give her that feeling.

In this case, they were starting late in the game. Karen knew Frank, at least to some degree, and all of a sudden she was feeling all strange around him and self conscious when he looked at her.

She chalked it up to the fact that he saved her life, and with that, she fell asleep within minutes of setting her alarm.

Chapter Text

It was spring picture day, and the newspaper staff was spending their morning taking shots of every student in the school. Thankfully, the list was only 300 students long.

Trish was directing each student on how to smile, how to angle their chins perfectly, and how to look mysterious and ethereal.

Karen helped the seniors put on their drapes and their fake tuxedo fronts, and did whatever Trish told instructed with the lighting and backdrops.

The best part of Karen's day was taking the pictures for superlatives when Brett handed her the job during his lunch break. She got to photograph the students voted as having the best smiles, being the class clowns, groups of best friends, and other like awards.

In an awkward turn of events, the award for cutest couple wasn't even given to an official couple.

Melvin and Betsy were not officially dating, they were just "talking" according to both of them, but everyone else could see what was going on.

"Y'know, if you two are uncomfortable with this, we could ask the couple in second place," Karen tried to give them an out.

"I'm okay with it," Betsy smiled.

"Me too," Melvin smiled nervously back at her.

Karen got them to stand next to each other under a beautiful blooming cherry tree thats petals were still barely hanging on.

She took a picture of them mid-laugh and it was easily the most precious moment she'd ever captured.

When she returned to Trish's impromptu photography studio, she was onto last names starting with N.

Karen knew it was a matter of minutes before Foggy came in and tried to give her lip for the night before. She considered hiding in the bathroom, but decided that was too immature and not helpful to the overall situation.

When Foggy walked through the doors, she faced him with confidence and pride.

"Hello, Foggy," Karen smiled lightly.

He didn't respond. He only stared vaguely at her and took his seat on the stool.

Karen handed him his shirt and started to help him put it on.

"You have to put-," Karen began to explain.

"I know how to put it on," he retorted, snatching the shirt away from her coldly.

He struggle to put on the fake shirt properly, but refused Karen's help.

When he finally had the shirt on, the bow tie was crooked.

Karen bit her lip.

"Could you fix his tie, Karen?" Trish asked, trying to alleviate the awkwardness.

"May I?" Karen asked Foggy politely.

Foggy's jaw clenched, but he nodded.

She straightened him up quickly and gave him a pat on the shoulder before Trish snapped her pictures.

"You're finished," Trish politely told him.

Foggy huffed and left the room as quickly as he could, not looking back at Karen.

"I heard about what happened at the baseball game," Trish commented once Foggy was gone.

"Yeah," Karen chuckled, "It was something else. Were you not there?"

"No," she shook her head, "I wanted to hang out with my sister, and also I really hate watching baseball," she admitted.

"Ugh, agreed," Karen groaned, "The ball is too small, you can't even see anything half the time."

"And nobody ever gets injured! At football games there's all this drama over so and so's broken ankle, but in baseball, you get like, one bloody nose a season," Trish complained.

They laughed together a while before calling in the next group of students.

Photographing the M's wasn't so bad, because Matt Murdock was absent. Karen tried not to be shocked by the unheard of turn of events and continued on ushering students into the room.

Before they wrapped up shooting, Trish announced an all call for anyone who hadn't had their picture made yet.

Into the room walked one Frank Castle.

Karen had made a point of leaving the room as Trish photographed the C's, but Karen forgot that Frank was new. He wasn't on the old student roster.

"Hi," she greeted him, immediately feeling self conscious.

"Hey," he smiled back, "I didn't know you were in charge of this too?"

Karen didn't know what to do with her hands. Had her hands always felt this awkward? "Yeah, well, we're just helping out."

A silent moment passed, and Karen had completely lost her train of thought. Trish sneezed gracefully to bring her back to task.

"Oh," Karen quickly refocused, "Here's your shirt front," she fished him out a medium sized top and handed it to him.

"So I just-?" he started to ask as he held up the tuxedo front.

Karen laughed lightly, "Yeah," she tried to help him.

He sat down with the shirt fully on and Karen moved out of the frame and hopefully out of his sight.

"Crooked tie again," Trish looked at Karen with a smirk.

Karen could have died right then and there, but instead, she crouched down and worked to straighten out Frank's tie. She ignored how close they were, and how he smelled.

He smelled like pumpkin? Karen was incredibly surprised.

She looked up at him for just a split second.

He was looking at her too.

Karen turned quickly to hide how red her face was going.

Trish snapped her pictures quickly, checking each for blinking. All came through well, because Frank was amazingly photogenic.

"You're all done," Trish nodded at him.

"Thank you," he nodded back at her. "See ya, Karen," he leaned to look at her.

"Yeah, you too," she called after him as he walked out.

Karen tried to distract herself by folding up the different drapes and tuxedo fronts.

"What was that?" Trish immediately asked once Frank was out of earshot.

"What?" Karen played dumb, half embarrassed and half in denial.

"I'm happy for you," Trish plowed on, despite Karen's faked aloofness, "The whole Matt thing was going no where, and despite all of the stuff surrounding the new guy," she gave Karen a look, "He's really into you."

"It's not like that," Karen denied, shaking her head in protest.

"Oh," Trish replied in a slight sing-song voice, still smirking to herself.

A moment passed.

"Why do you think he's... into me?" Karen asked before the thought ate her alive.

"I give advice all day to kids that write to me, all I do is make assumptions based on behavior," Trish shrugged.

Karen just looked at her and hoped she'd continue.

"He did that thing with his lips, y'know, when you start smiling at someone, and you're embarrassed about it. And every part of your mind is saying, 'stop smiling', so you try to straighten your lips, but it's just such a natural reflex, and your lips just twitch a little bit back and forth."

Karen knew how that felt, all too well. They ignored the subject and finished up with the last of the students before the even bell rang.

Trish packed up the gear and kindly thanked Karen for her help. They would see each other at the newspaper meeting that week, so no elaborate goodbye was in order.

Karen was anxious to leave school. Claire had made plans to meet her at the diner right after, and Karen wasn't ecstatic for the conversation she knew was coming.

In any case, she begrudgingly made her way down the street and scooted herself along the sidewalk towards her destination.

Elena started making Karen's milkshake the moment she entered the diner.

Claire had taken a booth in the corner and was scrolling through her phone rapidly.

"So how was your school day?" Karen asked casually as she slid into the opposite end of the booth.

"Good, yours?" she returned, not looking up.

"Also good."

Karen was trying to make casual conversation to distract from the unavoidable elephant in the room.

"So what else has been going on?" Claire asked, trying not to imply anything.

"Trish thinks he likes me," Karen blurted.

Claire rolled her eyes and grinned, "I almost set a timer for how long it would take you to bring him up."

"Okay," Karen defended herself, "Would you ignore someone who saved your life?"

Claire put her hands up in defense, "I never criticized you for it, I'm just pointing it out."

"You don't have to point it out," Karen sighed in frustration, "I'm pretty aware."

Karen was starting to feel just a little bit sick to her stomach. The situation was becoming unavoidable.

Claire could see her inner turmoil plain as day.

"So what's the plan?"

"Huh?" Karen asked between milkshake sips.

"You're not going to tell him how you feel or anything," Claire smirked, "I know you better than that."

Karen narrowed her eyes, not being able to come up with a good retort.

"So you're just going to bide your time, see if Trish is right, and hope for the best?"

Karen nodded in defeat.

Claire smiled, "That's my girl."

They both paid their checks and started on the road that would take them both home. Claire lived in a nicer house at the intersection of Bluebell and Woodlawn, and Karen wished more than anything they had longer to walk and more time to spend talking.

The air was light, full of springtime wind and the pollen that had been wrecking Claire for weeks. She wanted inside, and badly. Claire picked up their pace so she could get home sooner.

"You know he kind of smells like pumpkin?" Karen blurted.

"Oh my God," Claire threw her head back and laughed.

Chapter Text

Karen was having an incredibly anxious morning. Her dosage of her old medication was to be slowly decreased, as decreed by Dr. Fisk, and Karen's nerves were having none of it.

In addition, Karen had a dream the night before that was weighing heavily on her.

Frank was in it. That much was certain.

Nothing even happened between them in the dream. There was no kissing, no sex- they were just laying down together, and it was so peaceful. And it felt amazing.

Karen spent the whole morning at school feeling shaky and embarrassed with herself. It was creepy, and normal people didn't have dreams like that, she was sure of it.

She just prayed she wouldn't see Frank in the halls. She would not be able to hold a conversation with him, much less eye contact.

She spent History in front of the window, feeling warm in the soft sunlight. She ignored the lecture and most of the world in favor of watching the sun rise fully over the field in front of the school.

"What's wrong with the flag?" the kid in front of her, a boy named Malcolm, pointed out the window.

"What about it?" Karen asked sleepily.

"Look at the top," Malcolm pointed.

There was something wriggling in front of the flag. Karen could barely make out

"Oh my God," Karen said loudly, "Someone's up there."

The class turned in her direction and began to get out of their seats to take a closer look.

The history teacher, Mrs. Hogarth even walked to the window to see what the fuss was about.

"That's a student!" Mrs. Hogarth whispered in horror, grabbing the school phone off the wall and calling 911.

The class started to file out of the room, despite the Hogarth's protests. They ran for the door and filled the front field, crowding the flag pole. Karen walked behind the crowd, trying to avoid trouble.

"Holy shit," Karen whispered as she got a better view of the tied up student.

Whoever it was, they were hanging upside down from the flag pole, only in their underwear.

The other students laughed, but also showed concern for the wriggling kid. It was still cold out, and no one knew how long he'd been up there.

The sound of fire engines brought a louder wave of excitement among the students, as more filed out of their classrooms to see what was happening.

The police and firefighters ushered the crowd away from the pole as they extended the firetruck ladders to better reach the suspended student.

They struggled a moment, but soon a man had the student slung over his shoulder as he descended the ladder.

The crowd held its breath as the firefighter reached the ground.

There was something red on the kids chest and the murmur of the crowd agreed that it was blood. The laughter of the crowd changed to panic.

Officers tried to calm the crowd and reassured that the boy was moving and not in fact dead.

The kid seemed alright as he was put on a stretcher, just cold and naked. A closer view of his chest revealed that he was covered in spray paint, not blood.

The word "pervert" was written in thick red letters across his chest. Karen got on her tiptoes to see his face.

It was Finn Nesbitt.

Karen's stomach rolled.

Frank did this. There was absolutely no doubt in her mind. She was starting to lose her calm.

What was wrong with him? He had been so kind, so sweet lately. God, the dream, she was so certain she felt something for him.

Now he was back to this?

Karen scanned the crowd for someone familiar, someone who could calm her down.

The beautiful face of Claire was already nearby. She was crossing her arms and shaking her head at the immature students.

"Claire!" Karen waved to her friend, who was already coning towards her.

Claire looked worried as she approached, "Hey, are you good?" she asked in a tone slight concern.

"Was Frank in physics?" Karen whispered, leaning in close.

"Oh my God, Karen you're shaking," Claire turned to her face on and grabbed her elbows gently.

"I'm just," Karen looked away from her, "Have you seen Frank?" she pressed on.

"No," Claire told her simply. "He wasn't here today."

Karen took a deep breath. "I have to go."

"You can't just leave school," Claire reminded her, worried about Karen's mental state.

"I'm signing myself out," Karen told her, heading for the office.

Claire opened her mouth in protest, but promptly stopped herself. Karen was on a mission.

The attendant begrudgingly allowed Karen to release herself from school for the day, after getting four signatures.

Karen was certain this was the right decision. Whatever would happen next, she knew she needed to remove herself from the school for the time being.

When it came to her plan, Franks house was the first stop.

She was shaking all over as she headed down Bluebell. Her fists were clenched and every muscle in her body was tensed.

She stomped up to Franks front door and pounded the paneling with her fist.

Frank opened the door a moment later.

He was wearing her shirt.

She almost lost it, for a split second, seeing him like that. It felt like the dream again, and she wanted to go back to that.

"Karen," he looked at her with surprise. "What's going on?" he feigned ignorance.

Her sense returned at the sound of his voice. She nearly exploded with rage.

"You know I could have ruined your life, that first day you came here," she blurted.

"What are you-," he started.

"I could've written the most sensational article about teen violence that first day you were here. I could have used you, but I didn't," she said, filling with regret.

"Karen," he tried to calm her down.

"It's all useless now, everything I've written. We have no cover story, the paper prints in two days!!!"

"Karen."

"I thought the springtime story was it, but this is so much worse. How can I ever trust you again?"

"Karen, please come in."

"I can't believe you would do this. I thought you knew what you were doing and you were trying to get better, but then you just turn around and-,"

"I had a reason, Karen," he asserted.

"Oh, revenge? Is that what motivates you? Are you just going in some cycle now?"

"No," he shook his head. "It's not that."

"I don't care what kind of bullshit reasoning you're using to justify this," Karen declared. "I cared about you, I wanted to make you feel welcome here, I tried to help you through whatever the hell this is."

Karen was starting to cry.

Frank reached out to her, "Wait-,"

"I'm done," she threw up her hands and backed away from him, walking down the street. "I'm not coming back, you pumpkin scented asshole," she muttered.

"Karen!" he called after her, walking outside to catch up with her.

"If you follow me, I swear to Christ," she shouted, her voice going hoarse.

Frank stopped in the road, watching her leave, unable to stop her or to convince her to listen.

Karen just headed on, tears streaming down her face and rage boiling in her veins.

She just kept walking, past the Nesbitts, who were probably having a similarly awful day. She walked a solid mile down Bluebell until she reached the woods.

She sat down on a fallen log and tried to let her emotions out. She cried for a straight hour, unable to hold anything in anymore. The woods provided good enough cover for Karen to let out her feelings.

Once she was out of tears, in true Karen fashion, she leaned back on the log and fell asleep. The rough bark, the bugs, the chilly wind- none of it bothered her.

She didn't wake up until a text came. It was from none other than Marci Stahl.

"Come get plastered with me, Mom and Dad are out," the text read.

The sun was hanging lower in the sky, she must've slept a fewer hours. A glance at her phones clock confirmed her suspicions.

Karen sighed and bit her lip. She knew she shouldn't. Marci didn't need this right now. She didn't need this right now.

She did anyway.

Karen started out of the woods and back into society. Marci's house was a good 2 miles away, off in the rich neighborhood behind the school.

She didn't mind the walk though. It gave her something physical to do, something mildly constructive. It also gave her time to pick the leaves out of her hair.

As Karen walked through the unlocked door, she could already smell the booze.

"Come in, party girl," Marci greeted her, drink in hand. She was probably drunk enough already to ignore the leaves and branches in Karen's hair.

"I don't think you should be drinking," Karen tried to rationalize with her.

Marci blew her off. "There has been so much shit happening lately I don't think it would be safe for me to be sober."

Karen smirked despite herself, "Agreed."

"Vodka?" Marci asked, holding up two shot glasses.

"Just one," Karen stipulated.

One turned into two.

"So was your new boy toy the one who-," Marci waved vaguely, her voice slurring, "Strung Finn up by his dick?"

"Yeah," Karen nodded as she threw back another shot.

"Sorry, that must be shit," she threw one back to match her.

"Yeah, it is," Karen admitted, hoping Marci would change the subject to something lighter.

"Think about college," Marci began, "We can drink like this all-,"

"Let's not talk, okay?" Karen interrupted her. "Let's just drink."

Possibly the only benefit to weaning off of the antidepressants was that alcohol was safer to drink now. Even so, Karen was always a lightweight, so she knew to cut herself off at three.

Marci, on the other hand, knew how to hold her liquor.

"I want you to know that Foggy was lying at the game," Marci looked at Karen seriously, "He's never shaved my back."

Karen giggled into her glass of water, "Okay."

After Marci's next five shots, Karen felt it was time to stop Marci and get herself home.

"Men are just- men are all such bullshit, oh my God, Karen," she started to rant as Karen led her to the couch. "Why do we even bother with them?"

"I don't know, Marci," Karen humored her.

"I just am so done with all of them and all of everything," she waved wildly.

"You just stay here," Karen patted the blanket around her friend. "Drink all of this water before you go to bed."

"You're like a mom when you're drunk, Karen," Marci slurred, laughing.

"You're like a baby," Karen retorted, her own words difficult to enunciate.

"I love you," Marci yelled as Karen stepped out of the door.

Karen didn't yell anything back, she only groaned and started on her way to the comfort of her own home.

She passed Frank's house, and she stopped for a moment.

In part, she wanted to knock his door down and kick his ungrateful ass.

On another hand, she thought back to her dream the night before, and her stomach rolled. She wanted to climb through his window and just stay there, maybe he would be sweet like before- maybe he still cared. He was probably even still wearing her shirt.

In any case, she walked past his house, trying to repress any memory she had of him.

Karen climbed her porch steps, still half cognizant. She fumbled with the keys and safely got herself into the house.

The stairs presented a challenge, but she safely landed in her room and plopped down face first onto her bed.

She was alone. Really and truly. And she couldn't sleep. She woke up every time she tried.

Karen felt like screaming, but she couldn't. Her chest was heaving, her head was spinning, and nothing in the world was right.

Chapter Text

When Karen woke up the next morning, she learned how it felt to have two hammers pounding both sides of her skull.

The hangover was brutal, regardless of how much water she drank the night before. She snuck down the steps at 6 AM to find something nutritious for breakfast.

"Good morning," Kevin yelled at her from the living room as soon as she touched the bottom step.

Karen jumped in surprise, her heart rate doubling, "Jesus, don't do that."

Kevin grinned and got up from the couch, moving to the fridge to start making breakfast.

Karen groaned quietly as he turned on the lights and took her seat at the counter.

"You don't seem so good," Kevin delicately greeted her.

"I got in a fight," Karen muttered, running her hands through her hair.

"With who?" Frank asked as he crammed bread in the toaster.

"Just a friend," she told him casually, hoping he would drop it.

"Froggy?" he grinned, "Marci? Matt?"

Karen didn't respond quickly enough to stop him from pressing on.

Kevin looked at her suspiciously, "Not Claire? Is it?"

"No," Karen defended, "Why would I fight with her?"

Kevin's eyes widened with realization, "Frank?"

Karen opened her mouth to protest, but her expression betrayed her.

Kevin grinned, "What did he do?"

"He tied a kid to the flagpole," Karen told him plainly, hoping to shock him.

Kevin almost spit out some out his milk. "No way."

Karen only nodded.

"What did the kid do to him?"

Karen shrugged, "Does it matter?"

Kevin raised his eyebrows, "Yeah, I think it does."

Karen shook her head, "What could justify doing something like that?"

"You're not going to know until you ask," Kevin lightly told her, using his most patronizing voice.

"I don't want to talk to him," Karen insisted, knowing what Kevin was implying.

"I know you enjoy being stubborn, Karen, but I can't live with you when you're angry," she shook his toast at her.

"I don't care what you CAN live with, you have to live with me," she retorted.

"You're never going to let it go if you don't," he insisted.

"I don't need to let it go, I can just hold on and be bitter," she retorted, half arguing for him.

Kevin paused a moment and sighed, staring intently at Karen.

"Now, I know you are not always the best in the boy department, and I try not to interfere," he finally told her, his voice full of implications.

"Screw you, Kevin," she immediately responded.

"It seems to me," he pressed on, ignoring her outburst, "That Frank is the first friend you've found here that actually gives two shits about you."

Karen looked up at him, surprised that he had been so observant.

"And regardless of whatever kind of crap he does, or however messed up he is," Kevin continued, "You're gonna care about him, because you know that he sees something in you that's worthwhile," Kevin finally told her, looking her deeply in the eye.

He was completely right.

"Damn it," Karen whispered under her breath, still furious. She angrily grabbed up her shoes and backpack.

"Hey now, let's not talk like that."

Karen slammed the door in response.

As far as Karen was concerned, the day could only get better after she'd seen Frank, so she decided to get the whole thing out of the way as soon as she could.

She pulled out her phone and called him as she stepped onto his porch. She didn't really care if she was waking him up or being inconvenient. He needed to get his ass to school anyway.

He answered on the second ring. "Hello? Karen?" he sounded too eager to talk.

"I'm in your yard," she stated simply, holding the venom back from her voice.

"Okay," he sounded flustered, "Give me a second," he stuttered out.

Karen hung up before he could continue. She was only shaking because of the morning cold, she told herself.

Seconds later, the door opened, and out stepped Frank, hair messy and clothes crumpled. He was probably just getting out of bed when she called him. Karen avoided any thoughts of her dream as best she could.

"Karen," he greeted her, looking worried as to how she would respond to him.

Karen took a deep breath, "I'm ready to hear what you have to say," she told him in a calm and measured voice.

"Come in," Frank nodded, looking slightly encouraged.

He opened the door and invited her into their living room, furnished with leather couches and hard wood floors. The whole house was immaculately cleaned from what she could see in the morning darkness.

"Thanks for coming," Frank awkwardly stated, turning to face her.

Karen didn't say a word in response. She held herself firmly and stiffly, not opening herself to any expression or movement.

"You can sit down," he motioned to the couch.

"No," she defiantly told him, crossing her arms and staying standing.

"It's a long story," he warned her as he took his seat in a chair.

"I'm good standing," she told him.

"Okay," he sighed, "I'm just going to tell you how it is."

"Go ahead," she motioned, venom in her voice.

Frank took a deep breath and leaned forward, elbows on his knees.

"The first day I came here, I met Kirigi," he began, looking up to see if Karen was following him.

"Yeah," she responded, unfazed.

"We were in Spanish class, you know that," he started to stutter, getting nervous.

Karen just nodded.

"There's this girl in the class, her name is Hope."

"I know Hope," Karen interrupted him, frustrated and impatient.

"Yeah, Shlottman, she's a freshman, very shy, seems like a good kid," he confirmed.

Karen's eyes narrowed.

"Kirigi started bothering her," Frank explained, "He wouldn't stop."

"So you fought him to defend her honor?" Karen rolled her eyes and bit her bottom lip.

"He has pictures of her."

Karen's breath hitched, "What?"

Frank's jaw clenched, "Yeah, from someone she used to, y'know," he explained uncomfortably.

"Oh my God," Karen covered her mouth.

Frank continued, "He said he'd send them to so and so, or this kid, or whatever, he was just being a piece of shit," Frank was still upset over the situation.

It was taking Karen a few minutes to comprehend what was happening.

"What did she do?"

"Hope started crying," he responded, "So I waited until we were in the hall," he drew a deep breath, "And I kicked his ass."

Karen sat down slowly, still shaking.

"Then, well, his friends got back at me for it, you heard about that. They jumped me in the bathroom," he laughed lightly.

"Then to the hospital," Karen whispered.

"I didn't realize at the time that they had the pictures too, half of the football team does."

"What do you mean?" Karen started to feel dread in her stomach.

"They collect them- and it's not just Hope, it's half the girls at the school," he grimaced.

"What?" she tried to understand what she was hearing.

"Finn is the one who collects them and then he sends them out to the football team," he explained.

"So that's why-," Karen motioned, not needing to continue.

"Yeah," Frank smirked, "That's why yesterday happened."

Karen sighed. She rubbed her temples lightly. She now understood why Frank sprayed "pervert" on his chest.

"I don't know," Frank thought aloud, "Maybe they want power over these girls, maybe they had bad parents, maybe they're insecure and think this'll make them more manly, it doesn't matter. What they're doing is wrong, and I'm trying to stop it," he looked up at her.

Karen didn't know how to respond. What Frank did was still wrong, but God, did she feel like an asshole for yelling at him for it.

A loud crash came from the room over.

"MAX!" Frank shouted, getting up and going into the kitchen.

"Bad boy!" he chastised him, "You stay out of the trash."

"Nope, don't try that, that's not going to work," he told him.

Frank spent another minute disciplining Max before coming back in embarrassed and off kilter.

"Sorry," he mumbled, walking into the living room and sitting back down.

They sat there for a few long minutes, neither knowing what they should say exactly.

"I'm sorry I screamed at you yesterday," Karen finally sighed.

"You didn't know," Frank smirked.

"You're not doing this the right way, though," Karen found a way to voice what she was feeling.

"How do you think I should go about it?" Frank asked, looking at her intently.

"Legally," she stated simply.

"What, do you mean I should call the cops?" Frank's eyebrows raised.

"Yeah, at some point, at least for help," she told him matter of factly.

"Wait- are you- do you want to work with me on this?" Frank asked in disbelief.

Karen tried not to roll her eyes, "You obviously need help."

Frank shrugged, "That's fair."

"And I could use the newspaper to write about it," she suggested.

"How should we start then?" he looked at her and smiled.

Karen wasn't sure how she was feeling, everything was so muddled and confused in her mind. Part of her thought Frank wasn't stable, and another part of her thought he was doing God's work.

One thing she knew for certain: she needed to leave. Being around Frank at this point was opening up the door for every possible bad decision Karen could make, in whichever direction she chose.

"Can I call you about it later actually? We both need to get to school," she asked him, barely able to get her words out.

Frank looked surprised as he stood up, "Yeah sure, and I know it's a lot to take in."

"Yeah," Karen smiled lightly, looking away from him.

A little grey pitbull puppy ran into the room and headed straight for Karen.

"Max, no!" Frank chastised.

Karen smirked and crouched down to pet him. "Hello, buddy," she greeted.

Max loved the attention. He was jumping up and down on her, his gangly puppy legs and giant paws tapping against the wood flooring.

"Aren't you a handsome boy?" she laughed at his antics.

Frank sighed as Max rolled onto his back, demanding to have his little belly petted. Karen hadn't played with a dog in years, and she was truly enjoying the experience.

Max got up and started to run down the hallway, just as quickly as he came in.

"I'll talk to you after school," Karen promised, trying to make her exit.

"Okay," he confirmed, "We'll work it out."

"Bye," Karen told him curtly, trying to avoid any semblance of emotion.

He nodded at her, trying just as hard not to worry her.

As she closed the door, she tried to shove Frank out of her thoughts and focus on how she would convince the newspaper team to suspend the publication.

It wouldn't be pretty, that much she knew.

Chapter Text

Karen took the walk to school slow, hoping she could clear her mind before her full day began.

On Karen's agenda for the day was a Calc exam, newspaper meeting, and figuring out what the fuck to do with the bombshell Frank had dropped on her twenty minutes ago.

Karen went back to Investigation 101. She needed to find someone on the inside of the operation, or at least someone close.

As a general rule, football players were dicks, and Karen avoided them like the plague.

The only one she could see herself talking to, and only through a deadly channel, was Luke Cage.

When lunch rolled around, Karen put on her sweetest voice and approached her best friend to ask the favor.

"Hi, Claire," she kindly greeted, smiling at her intently.

"Why are you talking like that?" she asked between bites of her sandwich, not even offering a greeting.

"I need a favor," Karen braced her, dropping the act.

"Oh shit."

"This is the only time I will ever ask another favor of you in your entire life," Karen promised.

"What is it?" Claire asked, full of curiosity and dread.

"I, um," Karen wasn't sure how to ask, "I need to talk to Luke."

"Oh my God," she slammed her sandwich on the table.

"It is so important, Claire, literally the livelihood of a bunch of young women hangs in the balance."

Claire narrowed her eyes.

"I can explain, I just need to meet with Luke in person."

Claire sighed and paused, "You'll do my essay this weekend?"

"Absolutely," Karen nodded, knowing she was signing her life away.

Claire rolled her eyes, "Ellison's office, in 5 minutes."

"I love you," Karen stated simply before Claire walked away to find her secret boyfriend.

Karen grabbed up her bag and nearly raced down the hallway to Ellison's room. He was out on lunch, and even then he would hardly care if she used the space. She set up the table and took her seat, legs fidgeting uncontrollably.

She was worried, mainly, that Luke was in on the whole situation, that he himself had the pictures on his phone.

Luke peeked his head around the corner a few minutes later, and Karen was immediately struck by how kind he seemed, in his expression and his mannerisms.

"Hi, Luke," Karen greeted him politely, relaxing just a little.

"Yeah, Karen, right?" he asked in the deepest voice she'd ever heard.

"I'm sure you've heard some stories about me," she laughed lightly.

"I doubt you've heard any about me," he chuckled.

Karen felt a sense of understanding with him knowing they both cared about someone in common.

"I heard you wanted to ask me about something?" he tried to hurry her.

"Yeah, uh, sit down," she instructed him, "Do you want a bottle of water?"

"No thanks," he declined politely.

"Me too, water is gross," she laughed awkwardly, sitting down and staring at him intensely.

"So what is it you want?" he asked once her stare made him uncomfortable.

"Right," she opened her notebook, "Do you know anything about the other football players, um, sending each other," she moved her hands around to feel less awkward, "Illegal pictures?"

"Illegal pictures," he restated, expressionless.

"Yeah, y'know," she whispered, "Nudes."

"Well," he looked down, planning out his response.

"Luke," Karen pleaded, "Anything you know could help."

"Why are you begging?" Luke asked, "I've been waiting for this," his smirk turned into a grin.

"Thank you, God," she whispered under her breath, "Tell me everything you can."

She intently began to scribble down his words.

"They send the pictures on a group chat, it's all locked on their phones," he explained to her. "It's mostly the upperclassmen doing it, like Finn and Nobu."

"Where do they get the pictures?"

"Most of the time they'll manipulate the girls into sending them, and sometimes they'll get them from ex-boyfriends," he explained.

"But to prove they were doing it, I would need one of their phones?" Karen bit her lip. She was reaching an impasse.

Luke leaned forward, "Grotto."

"What?"

"There's a kid on the team, his name is Grotto."

Karen squinted, "You mean that little freshman who wears his shirts too long and still puts chains on his jeans?"

Luke stood up from his chair, "He's the weakest link."

"Oh, okay," she stood too, feeling flustered, "Luke, thank you so much. I'll keep you completely anonymous."

"I enjoyed this," he chuckled, "Maybe you can get these assholes the punishment they deserve."

"Here's hoping," Karen smiled.

Luke nodded and headed out the door, quickly making his way down the hall. Considering how massive he was, Karen reflected on how quietly he moved. He walked like a ballerina.

Karen shook the thought from her head and refocused. She needed the cell phone of one of the kids.

It would seem that her best bet was this Grotto kid.

Thankfully for Karen, they had French together last semester, and he made eyes at her all throughout the class. He would be complete putty in her hands.

Also, if she was going to do something like this, she needed to consult an officer. Thankfully, Brett owed her a few favors, and Sergeant Mahoney would have to help out his son's friend.

Now all she had to do was survive through the Calc test, newspaper meeting, and possibly seduce Grotto until he gave her his phone.

The Calc test proved to be the worst event of her life so far, including her almost dying stint over the weekend. Karen guessed on half of the problems and barely even understood the rationale to the ones she worked out. She tried to brush it off by almost puking in the bathroom afterwards.

Karen wiped off her mouth and tried to just keep getting through her day. The meeting was next, and Karen was horrified about how it would go.

She took her seat at the head of the small table and waited for the other writers to trickle in, ignoring the way her hands were shaking with anxiety.

"How'd you do on that quiz?" Brett asked immediately as he walked into the classroom, not even looking up at her.

"90% sure I failed it, but y'know," Karen smiled sarcastically, looking somewhat devastated.

"Sorry," he frowned empathetically.

"Brett, can you see if your dad will meet with me?" she asked him quietly.

"If you have a crush on my dad I swear to God," he replied instantly, anger rising in his eyes.

"What the hell? No, I need legal advice," she shook her head, completely confused.

Brett looked confused, "Um, okay, when do you want to see him?"

"Today?" she tilted her head and asked.

Brett sighed, "Just come with me after school."

"Thank you so much," he grabbed his arm and thanked him genuinely.

He took his seat, still slightly annoyed at her.

She sat down as well, but she couldn't help herself but ask.

"Brett, have people wanted to meet your dad because they like him before?"

"Can we start the meeting?" he deflected her question.

Everyone slowly began to take their seats, lowering their voices and stopping their private conversations.

Karen coughed and stood up from her seat dramatically. She did her best to look utterly poised and completely confident.

"I hope that this past year, even without our great leader, Ben," she gestured to the photograph on the wall, "You all have found some pride in our publications, and you have put someone degree of your trust in me."

The other members looked at each other, confused as to why she was delivering such an elaborate speech.

"I am on the edge of something that could rock this school to its core," she proclaimed, "It could be the greatest publication in our school's history."

Brett raised his eyebrows in intrigue.

"But-," she digressed, "I need until Monday to complete the story."

Trish immediately spoke up, "You want to suspend the publication?"

"Yes," Karen stated simply.

"What is this article about?" Brett challenged her.

"I-uh, it's confidential," Karen nervously replied, "But I promise you it is completely worth it."

"We're just supposed to take your word?" Brett raised his eyebrows.

"Like I said," she sighed, "I hope I've proven to you, that I am someone you can put your trust in."

Trish sighed, "I like you, Karen, and I trust you," she began, "But our readers need regularity. They need to be able to pick up their paper every Friday at lunch, or read their e-mail Saturday morning."

Karen opened her mouth to give her rebuttal.

"I call the question," Ellison loudly proclaimed from against the wall, interrupting Karen.

Her heart went into her throat.

"All in favor of suspending this week's publication date to Monday?" Karen asked.

Claire and Melvin both raised their hands.

"All opposed?" she bit her lip.

Brett and Trish raised their hands.

They were in a deadlock, and Karen had seen this coming a mile away.

"Mr. Ellison?" she sighed.

He looked her in the eye, his expression full of warning.

Karen was ready to puke from all the anxiety.

He narrowed his eyes and the tension in the room doubled.

"Suspend it," he finally proclaimed, opening the door to his office.

Karen could have fallen over in relief. Now she had a way forward, and time to develop a plan.

But now, she had to fulfill her promise and write an absolutely astounding article.

In any way she chose to look at the situation, Karen had a lot of work ahead of her.

Chapter Text

However badly her day had gone up to this point, Karen was staunchly determined to power through without having a complete emotional breakdown.

Karen was waiting on a bench outside of Sergeant Mahoney's office, waiting to hear if she could ask him for some advice on how to handle her predicament. Karen wasn't sure how much time he had set aside for teenage journalists, but she was remaining hopeful, even through the rollercoaster of a day she was having.

Finally, Brett came out of his dad's office, giving her a patronizing look. "He's ready for you," Brett told her in passing.

"Thank you, Brett," she nearly shouted out of excitement.

Karen took a deep breath and opened the door. "Sergeant Mahoney?" she tried to sound confident.

The sergeant was at his computer, typing up the reports on his desk, next to the three empty mugs of coffee.

"Ms. Page, I have 5 minutes for you," he greeted, not looking away from his computer.

"Hi, thank you so much for meeting with me," she took the seat in front of his desk.

"My son speaks highly of you," he nodded her on, trying to skip the pleasantries.

"I have a friend," Karen quickly began, "She's a freshman, and there is a boy, or a group of boys, at our school that have explicit pictures of her on their cell phones that she didn't intend for them to receive," Karen tried to be delicate.

"You want to know if they can be prosecuted?" he turned towards her, making eye contact for the first time.

"That's- yes, that's exactly what I want to know."

"Yes, they absolutely could, with enough evidence," he nodded, "I'm assuming most of these boys are over 18?"

"Yes," Karen nodded.

"They could easily be charged as sex offenders, do time, and spend the rest of their lives being registered. And they would deserve it," he added.

Karen's heart started beating faster.

"So, how could I obtain the evidence?" she asked him quickly.

"That's a delicate situation, because you would need to obtain their cell phone without them having the opportunity to delete the explicit pictures."

"And once one kid is caught, the others will get rid of them," Karen sighed, realizing how difficult this could be.

"Your best bet would be to convince one of these kids to rat out on his friends and record the conversations and exchange of materials."

"Convince them?"

"The evidence would be legally obtained," he explained.

"How do you suggest I go about 'convincing'?" Karen started to feel hopeless.

"That part is up to you, Miss Page," he returned to the computer, "Let me know if you need anything else?" he asked in way of ending the conversation.

"Thank you so much," she stood from her chair and moved for the door, trying to get out of his hair.

"Good luck," he nodded at her, "You're doing the right thing here."

Karen smiled before closing the door. Relief rushed over her in a wave, accompanied by another fresh wave of anxiety.

Now all she had to do was confront Frank and tell him everything she'd learned. That was the most dreaded part of her day.

She walked towards Bluebell quickly, hoping to get the whole thing over with. She didn't want to spend any prolonged period of time with Frank.

Her feelings toward him were still too complicated and confused, and ultimately, she didn't trust her own judgement when it came to him.

Karen sighed and stepped onto his porch, knowing the uncle might greet her if she rang the doorbell. Karen was avoiding any possible stressors.

"I'm outside," she texted him.

"My uncle is home and I'm grounded," he texted her back immediately.

Karen cursed, nearly throwing her phone. Time was of the essence. She could not afford to wait another day.

She eyed the wooden ladder laying behind the bushes on the side of the house, and she made her plan in the spur of the moment.

"Open your window," she texted him back, feeling determined and defiant.

His window opened right as she began to prop the ladder up against the house. He stuck his head out and nearly jumped when he saw what she was doing.

"What the hell?!" he whispered hoarsely.

"I'm coming in," she replied, reaching the top and grabbing onto his window sill.

"Watch your head," he whispered, pulling her into his room.

Karen stepped through the window, let go of Frank and took in the view.

Frank's room was grey. Really and truly, the walls, the bed, the dresser, the carpet; all were tones of grey and silver. The floor was immaculately cleaned, no stray clothes to be seen. The only color in the room came from his small bookshelf, neatly organized and full of brightly covered spines.

"Do you like grey?" Karen asked in way of greeting, not turning around to face him.

"No," he chuckled, folding the ladder and hiding it under his bed., "My uncle's the one who decorates."

Karen turned to face him. He looked exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes and his skin becoming paler. The top of his hair was brushed out into short waves, and he was fully dressed in his usual stiff and starched attire. He just looked so tired, she thought, and overwhelmed.

"So...?" he prompted her.

Even with all the stress and chaos, being around Frank had almost made her forget.

"I got the extension on the newspaper," Karen blurted.

"Great," Frank replied, waiting for her to continue.

"And I talked to Brett's dad, the police sergeant," she swallowed deeply.

"What did he say?" Frank raised his eyebrows, looking skeptical.

"Frank?" a gruff voice asked from the hallway.

Karen and Frank both shared a look of panic.

Frank quickly and gently pushed Karen into his closet and shut the door as fast as he possibly could.

She held her breath and tried not to make any noise.

Karen heard the door open.

"Did I hear you talking to someone?" the uncle asked.

"No, sir, I was counting push ups," Frank responded quickly, pretending he was out of breath.

"Huh," the uncle replied, "Okay, did you get any sleep?"

"Yes, sir," Frank responded, sounding like he was in boot camp.

"Good, make sure you get your studying in."

"Yes, sir."

The door shut.

Frank opened his closet quietly and shushed Karen as she stepped out. "You good?" he whispered, smirking slightly.

"Fine," she whispered back, avoiding eye contact.

"So what did you find out from the sergeant?" Frank immediately jumped back to business.

"We can't illegally obtain the messages," she shook her head, "I know that's probably what you had in mind, but it won't work."

"Well, we can't just persuade them to give the pictures up," Frank challenged, sounding a little off put.

Karen bit her lip.

"There's a kid we can get to," she told him, "He's this little punk named Grotto."

"Okay, good," Frank nodded, "But we'd still need to steal his phone."

"Well," she started to reason through the situation aloud, "What if we only do something a little illegal?"

"Like what?" Frank started to smirk again.

"Like put the pictures somewhere the police could access them," Karen's mind was spinning, looking for a way around the situation.

"You couldn't make him post them somewhere, then the whole school would have them."

"He has school-owned memory storage," Karen nearly shouted, feeling like she was finally getting somewhere.

"Then they'd be accessible to the police," Frank started to smile as well.

"I'd still need his phone," Karen nearly cursed, feeling like she was running in circles.

"It's inevitable," Frank shrugged, "We have to lift it off him."

"I'd need him to unlock it first," she frowned.

"We need to get him alone," Frank suggested, surely planning to beat the hell out of Grotto.

"We need to get him drunk," Karen corrected, hoping for a more delicate approach.

"What about Prom?" A lightbulb went off in Frank's head.

"That's next weekend, it would be too late," Karen dismissed the idea. She needed the information before Monday or the whole thing was useless.

She took a moment to reconsider.

"But they have big parties at the twin's house some weekends," she smiled.

"The twins?" Frank looked puzzled.

"Vlad and Anatoly," she clarified, "They're wrestlers, and probably steroid dealers. But they're rich, they have shitty parents, and their house is amazing," she shrugged.

Frank's eyes narrowed, "You've been to these parties?"

"They'll probably have one tomorrow," she deflected the question, "Friday night."

"Grotto will be there?" Frank's eyebrows started to rise.

"Of course," she waved him off, "It's the only source of entertainment."

"And you think it'll be easy to steal his phone?" Frank looked skeptical.

"I mean, Grotto is basically in love with me, so yeah," Karen rolled her eyes.

"Wait, what?" Frank's face fell completely, "You're not-," he began.

"Not what?" Karen questioned.

"You're not gonna... seduce him?" Frank was starting to turn red.

"I mean," Karen stopped to consider, "That was my plan. Do you not like it?"

"I- I'm just not sure it would be safe," Frank started to backtrack, looking upset.

"Frank? Are you still doing push ups?" a loud voice asked from the hallway.

Frank almost jumped.

"Sit ups!" he yelled back, "I'm onto sit ups!"

"I'll go," Karen whispered, moving towards the window.

Frank reached under his bed to pull out the ladder and unfold it. He opened the window and helped her out onto the porch roof.

Karen let go of his hand awkwardly and set up the ladder.

"Come over again tomorrow," he whispered, "We'll plan it all out."

"Five o'clock?" Karen asked.

"Okay," he whispered back, smirking just a little bit, "Karen?" he stopped her descent.

"What?" she looked up at him.

"Thanks for giving me another chance."

"Yeah," she swallowed awkwardly, "I hope I don't regret it."

Frank nodded at her, closing the window and disappearing from sight.

She dropped the ladder behind the bushes and ran back home, ignoring the strange look she got from a truck driver passing by.

She couldn't get his face out of her head, or the way he spoke to her so softly. Their conversation was so quiet and rushed, but it was all just so exciting. The anticipation of seeing him again and planning out their attack filled her with an equal amount of joy and dread.

Karen needed to find a way to make it through this with her sanity, emotional stability, and body still in tact. On her current road, she'd be lucky to make it out with one of the three. But Karen Page was nothing if she wasn't unfailingly stubborn and determined to a fault.

Chapter Text

By the time 5 o'clock rolled around, Karen was almost too exhausted to move, much less spend her afternoon breaking the law with Frank. She was comforted by the fact that she had an excellent reason for becoming a criminal, and also that her crime was only "a little bit of a felony".

She set out for Frank's house, backpack in tow, hardly ready to plan out the night ahead. She knew to some extent what she was doing, but deep down, she was slightly horrified. In any case, she couldn't back out now.

As she approached his house, she knew she wasn't going to throw a rock at his window. She absolutely refused to be so cliche.

Karen instead hauled the ladder to the side of the porch and propped it up.

"I'm coming up," she texted him, beginning her climb up the ladder.

Frank's window opened as she neared the halfway point, and he stuck his head out to greet her.

"Hey," he smiled, looking nervous.

Karen just smiled lightly in response and grabbed up the ladder, folding it and handing it to Frank, who pulled it through his window.

She stepped through next, landing awkwardly and steadying herself on Frank's bedpost.

Frank was fully dressed again, even though he didn't go to school again that day. He looked like he'd slept a little, maybe. His dark circles weren't as pronounced at least.

"How's your day been?" she asked as she looked around, noticing that his room was slightly less clean than yesterday.

"Stressful," he told her honestly, scratching the back of his head.

"Same," she smiled, looking away from him.

"Have you eaten dinner yet?" he asked, looking concerned.

"I had coffee," she replied quickly, not wanting to be a bother.

"That's not a dinner," he chastised lightly, "Do you want spaghetti?" he questioned.

"Uh," she was caught off guard, "Isn't your uncle home?"

"Yeah, he is," Frank nodded, "But he's in his study, and I made enough for all of us."

"You made it?" Karen raised her eyebrows, trying to stop herself from smiling.

"Well, yeah," he replied, slightly self conscious, "Self sufficiency, y'know. You have to know how to cook."

Karen couldn't stop herself from smiling, "Okay, I'll have some."

"Great, stay here," he directed, "I'll bring you a plate up."

As Frank closed the door behind himself, Karen tried to fight the urge to snoop, now that she was left alone in his room.

She gravitated towards the bookshelf automatically, scanning the titles of his library. He had a lot of thick crime thrillers, as well as a shelf of worn copies of classics.

There was a book on the very edge of the shelf with no name on the spine. It was compact, leather bound, and virtually calling her name.

She picked it up, opened the first page, and started to read.

"September 17."

It was a journal.

She slammed the book closed and replaced it on the shelf.

Karen was not that kind of person. She had a healthy respect for privacy and fully understood Frank's need to release his emotions through writing. But hell, it was tempting. She could learn so much about him in just a few moments. Her better side won out and she avoided the book.

She heard Frank's footsteps outside of the door. He entered the room backwards, holding two full plates of spaghetti.

"Here," he handed her a plate, sounding a little flustered.

"Thanks, can I just sit here?" she motioned to the pillow on the floor beside his bed.

"Yeah, wherever you want," he replied, sitting on the floor across from her to make her feel more comfortable.

They started to eat in a relative silence, both twirling the pasta around their forks and quietly eating, both avoiding eye contact with the other.

"You like crime novels?" she asked to make conversation, pointing to the bookshelf.

"Yeah," he smiled, "I'm into the whole 'justice' thing."

Obviously, they both were, considering their reason for meeting at that very moment. Karen didn't mention that though, trying to keep the conversation light and casual.

"This is fantastic, by the way," she gestured to the pasta, trying not to sound surprised, "You should teach me how to make this," she suggested, not entirely serious.

"Do you not know how to cook?" he looked surprised.

"No," she smiled, "Kevin has taught me how to fry eggs, and I can bake a cake, but that's it," she admitted.

"It's a good thing to learn, I've been cooking since I was tiny," he informed her.

"Is that like," she began awkwardly, "A military family thing? Teaching kids ultra self reliance and independence?"

"Yeah," he looked at her uncomfortably, probably not wanting to talk about his family.

She understood his reluctance to talk about those things remarkably well. They let the topic pass and both quietly finished their meals.

He eventually got up to take her plate.

"Thank you so much for that," she awkwardly told him as he took her plate and set it aside.

"I'm glad you liked it," he smirked shyly, doing the lip thing.

She had to look away before she started it as well. She still felt it, despite all of her trepidation. There was something there. She shook it off as best she could, knowing that staying out of it for the time being would be in her best interest.

"So," Karen began to switch gears, "Any thoughts on the plan tonight?"

Frank sighed, "Depends on what you have in mind," he invited her to begin.

"Well," Karen drew a breath and began, "I'm going to go inside, track down Grotto, get his phone, screenshot his conversations, transfer them to his school account, and email them all to the sergeant and the board of education," she summarized.

Frank didn't look entirely convinced.

"So, you're going to just flirt with him and snatch his phone?" he asked, sounding skeptical.

"No, I'm going to flirt with him and then pretend to give him my number," she corrected him.

"I'm worried about that," Frank shifted, "What if he corners you or something?"

"I can yell," she started to worry as well.

Frank looked unconvinced, "And how will you just take his phone after that? What if he gets mad?"

"I'll get him more drunk," Karen mused, not exactly sure how she would accomplish that bit.

"How do you plan on doing that part?"

Karen was getting frustrated with him, "You tell me," she rolled her eyes at him lightly.

"Sorry," he put a hand up, "I'm just trying to make sure everything goes smooth. I'm not," he began, "I don't doubt you. I honestly don't. You're the most capable person I know, even if you can't cook."

Karen couldn't help but smile a little. He was always honest with her, and she appreciated it immensely.

"But what if I came inside the house to help?" he delicately proposed.

"Are you serious?" Karen's eyes widened, her stomach dropping. Frank would get his ass kicked immediately at a party like that.

"I could bump into Grotto once you get his phone, that way you wouldn't have to make some bullshit excuse to get away," he proposed.

"It would make for an easy exit," she bit her lip.

"And you wouldn't have to worry about getting harassed," he tilted his head.

"If you're okay with risking it," Karen conceded, still feeling queasy about getting him involved.

"Okay then," Frank stated, "Let's go through this one more time."

"I go in first," Karen began, clearing her throat.

"I'll come in after 5 minutes," Frank continued.

"With your hood up," Karen stipulated.

"Hood up," Frank agreed.

"I'll approach Grotto."

"I'll make sure I'm watching."

"I'll get him drunk."

"I'll stay hidden for that part," Frank nodded.

"I'll say I want to give him my number."

"Carefully," Frank stipulated.

"He'll hand me his phone," Karen continued.

"I'll spill a beer on him."

"I'll run to the bathroom."

"I'll do whatever I have to for you to get the pictures," Frank nodded, fully prepared to fight Grotto to the death.

"We'll meet across the street from the house when we're done?" she leaned forward.

"Sounds like a plan," Frank nodded, finally giving his complete consent.

"So, we're good?" she asked, looking at her phone for the time, "It's only six."

"I feel satisfied with it," he shrugged.

"Okay, then," Karen switched gears instantly to the other main stressor in her life, "Can you help me write an essay for Claire?"

"What?" Frank cocked his head.

"I had to take on her homework so I could interview her secret boyfriend," she told him casually, pulling out and booting up her old laptop.

"What's the essay about?" he asked, getting up and sitting down next to her.

He left a reasonable distance between the two of them, trying to avoid making Karen uncomfortable. He thought that her helping him wasn't a show of her friendship or caring for him, only a pursuit of justice for Hope. So he kept his distance.

"It's only two pages, double spaced, on the evolution of nursing," she pulled out the prompt sheet.

"So, you want my help with it?" he still looked perplexed.

"Yeah," she shrugged, "You said you like writing."

He nodded emphatically, "I do." In truth, Frank was extremely flattered and humbled to be asked for Karen's help.

"Wanna read what I have?" she proposed, pointing the laptop towards him.

He read through her work carefully, trying to absorb every sentence and fully appreciate her writing.

"It's, it's really well done," he finally told her, honestly impressed with her work. He'd followed her paper religiously anyway since his arrival, so her excellent writing wasn't entirely a surprise.

"I still need a page though," she groaned, "I think I should just finish later."

"Wait, wait," Frank stopped her, "You could give an example using something like amputation, and how that's changed over the years," he suggested excitedly.

"Do you want the computer?" Karen asked genuinely, feeling like she was about to fall asleep.

"I mean, sure," he placed the laptop on his outstretched legs and got to work adding his ideas.

Karen smiled at his excitement and enjoyed watching him type and search, his tongue barely sticking past his lips as he thought.

They sat together on the floor for hours, backs propped up against his bed frame. Frank typed loudly, having a ball with the research.

"Check this out, I found a site with simulated amputations from the 17-," he began, turning to show Karen.

She was asleep.

Her head was leaned back against the side of the bed, her breathing was slow, and her expression was soft and peaceful.

Frank couldn't stop himself from smiling as he checked the time.

They had an hour left before the party. He decided to let her sleep and continue writing.

He knew she would need rest for the night ahead, and admittedly, he was glad she felt comfortable enough to fall asleep around him.

He wondered mostly if he was doing the right thing, letting her get involved in his life and his problems. She was so innocent and good natured, a casualty waiting to happen. But Karen was nothing if she wasn't strong willed, and he ultimately decided he had no right to hold her back from helping.

And anyway, he enjoyed her company.

Chapter Text

It was Saturday night, the party at the twins' house was well underway, and Karen Page was sleeping on Frank's floor.

Frank had just put the finishing touches on Claire's essay, and he had to admit that it was oddly comforting just to hear the in and out of Karen's breathing as she slept.

But if they had any chance of getting justice that night, Karen needed to wake up.

"Hey," Frank shook her shoulder gently.

She nearly jumped,"Oh my God," she whispered, "I fell asleep."

"Yeah," Frank chuckled, "You did."

She was admittedly cute this way, still sleepy and unaware of her surroundings. Frank tried to push the thought away as far as he could.

"What time is it?" she immediately asked, puling hair out of her mouth.

"8:30," he replied casually, looking over at her.

"Oh, God," she scrambled off the floor, "I have to change!"

"What?"

"I brought clothes," she grabbed her backpack and rifled through.

"Why do you have to change?" Frank whispered, trying to get her to lower her voice.

"I can't go to a house party in a cardigan!" she whispered hoarsely.

"Oh," Frank realized what she was doing, and it made him incredibly uncomfortable. She was trying to make the seducing aspects of the plan easier.

"I'm changing in the closet," she slammed the door behind her in a rush.

"Okay," Frank awkwardly commented, still turning around, even though she was out of sight.

Karen crouched down to avoid hitting her head and pulled off her clothes.

She tried not to think about what she was doing, or why she was doing it. The night would make her uncomfortable, but for the sake of Hope and an unknown number of other girls, she was willing to go through the embarrassment.

Karen emerged, wearing high waisted shorts and a sleeveless top, looking every bit the rebellious party girl.

Frank turned around, and his eyes went wide. He wasn't used to this.

"Is this alright?" she asked Frank, noticing his expression and worrying her clothes didn't look right.

"Um, yeah," he looked away, uncomfortable staring at her, "That works."

"Great," she ignored his blushing to stay sane, "Let's go."

Frank opened the window and helped Karen out, trying not to stare at her too long. They threw the ladder behind the bushes and dropped Karen's backpack off on her porch.

The night had begun, and the plan was in motion.

A crack of thunder sounded overhead. They both looked up at the heavy layer of dark clouds and new a storm was on its way. They picked up their speed, trying to get to the house before the rain began.

"Their house is in the nice neighborhood," Karen explained as they turned the corner. "They're pretty close to Marci's house."

Frank nodded, "So they just throw these crazy parties every Friday?"

"Not really," Karen shook her head, "But kind of, actually."

Frank looked perplexed.

"I don't know," Karen scratched her neck, "I used to go to them pretty regularly, but then Anatoly started to stalk Claire, so that stopped."

"He stalked her?" Frank raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, it was creepy stuff," she shook her head. "He probably would have kidnapped her if he could have."

Frank shook his head, "Are there any good people at this school?"

Karen chuckled, "Maybe one or two."

They were starting to hear the music from blocks away. The party had already started and the bad techno remixes were well underway.

They paused for a moment across the street, both more nervous than they'd admit.

"Okay," Karen turned to Frank. "5 minutes after I go in."

"Right," he nodded, "5 minutes. I'll be there."

"Good," Karen sighed, trying to convince herself.

"You're shaking," Frank commented in concern.

"It's normal for me," she looked away from him, embarrassed that he had noticed.

"It'll all be over soon," he promised her, a reassuring smile on his face.

Karen smiled at him and started to back away towards the house with a, "Wish me luck."

Karen had learned that confidence was her best tool in these situations. She entered the house quickly, dodging kids already drunk on the porch.

At least 2/3 of the high school population was crammed into the house, along with what Karen expected to be some mature looking middle schoolers. She shook off the thought and started her mission.

Out of the corner of her eye, Karen saw Marci, leaned up against the wall with a kid Karen recognized from the tennis team.

She immediately ducked, moving towards the kitchen. The last thing she needed that night was Marci drama.

Unsurprisingly, she saw another desperate face, holding two beer cans at the kitchen sink.

It was Foggy.

Had he seen Marci yet? Probably not, because they both looked completely plastered.

Karen ducked out of the room and continued her search, mentally noting where she should avoid in the house.

But where was Grotto? The plan would fall apart entirely without him.

She decided to look in the sketchier places where couples make out and feed each other pot brownies.

As expected, she found him a crowded hallway, in all his scuzzy glory. His hat was backwards, his eyebrows were pierced, and he had a tiny tattoo on his neck that was probably sharpie.

He was leaning against the wall alone, intentionally brooding and trying to look mysterious.

Karen took her place against the wall across from him, a few feet down. She had to lure him in for the plan to work.

She tried not to think of how creepy it all was. Karen looked over at him, trying to catch his eye.

When he finally met her gaze, she looked away quickly and pretended to be embarrassed.

He started to approach her. This was it.

"You're Karen right?" he asked as he leaned against the wall beside her.

"Yeah," she smiled broadly at him, "I didn't think you'd remember me."

"We had French together, didn't we?" he looked overjoyed.

"Yeah, you had a really great accent," she complimented him.

"Well, y'know," he scratched his neck, "I hear that a lot," he boasted.

Karen could see that flattery worked well on him.

"I think I've seen you at the gym, haven't I?" she lied.

"Probably," he grinned, looking proud of himself. "I spend a lot of my time there."

"I can tell," she laughed, slapping his shoulder suggestively.

He was absolutely eating it up.

"We should go together sometime," he suggested, tilting his head and moving closer to Karen.

"Yeah, we should," she nodded, "I'm so lost in there, you could teach me how everything works," she played dumb to boost his ego.

"Or you could just watch," he raised an eyebrow.

Karen had to stop herself from vomiting.

"Let me give you my number," she suggested casually.

"Great," he excitedly pulled his phone out of his pocket.

Right as he handed her the phone, a shout came from the room over.

"Hey! You're the kid who strung up Nesbitt!"

Karen felt the entire world shake. Everyone turned around towards the sound of the conflict.

Frank was about to get his ass kicked, and for nothing.

"I gotta go," Grotto reached for his phone back so he could go join the fight.

It was now or nothing.

Karen deflected Grotto's arm and grabbed the front of his shirt.

She kissed him.

Straight on the lips.

His eyes stayed open for a good few seconds before he leaned into it.

Karen felt like she was dying of repulsion. He tasted like an electronic cigarette.

But she deftly slipped his phone into her pocket, accomplishing her purpose and making the pain worth it.

Once she felt his tongue, she couldn't put up the act any longer. It was too much.

She pulled away from him quickly, keeping her coy smile to stop any of his suspicions.

"Wow," he stated simply, staring at her wide eyed.

"Just wanted to get that out before you left," Karen smirked, batting her eyelids.

He left for the other room, "I'll call you," he yelled back at her.

Grotto was not going to call her, because Grotto's phone was currently resting in Karen's pocket.

Karen made a mad dash for the bathroom. Of course, it was occupied by a couple making out.

She opted for a corner of the dining room, which most kids had already evacuated in favor of watching the impending fight.

Karen looked through the phone and opened his messages, looking for some kind of group chat.

Under the name "Team" Karen found 22 members in the group chat, all of which she recognized from Fall football games.

As expected, there were pictures of the girls, many of which Karen recognized. She stopped looking at their faces and felt a well of anger rise in her chest.

She took screenshots of each text, as well as all the contacts involved in the conversation.

It was taking forever to scroll through, there were years worth of these pictures and all of their comments and disgusting conversations.

"I can't believe I kissed this kid," she whispered to herself in disgust.

Minutes later, when all the pictures had been documented, she transferred the screenshots to Grotto's school Dropbox account and saved them.

She composed a message to Sergeant Mahoney, the members of the Board of Education, and the principal, using Grotto's school address. She attached all 300 pictures with the caption, "I'm sorry."

She waited while the screen loaded. It was taking minutes for all the images to attach.

Her heart was in her throat.

Message sent.

Karen would have started celebrating, but in the other room, she knew that Frank was probably getting trashed. The night was far from over.

Karen dropped the phone on the floor where Grotto had been, walking away as quickly as she could.

There was a dread in the pit of her stomach. She knew Frank was in trouble.

Her suspicions were confirmed as she made her way into the living room.

Frank was getting pushed in a circle by at least three different guys. He was still on his feet though, and no one had started actually hurting him yet, they were all just yelling.

Karen could not stand by, and she quickly channeled her anger at the football team to Vlad, who was pushing Frank and loudly cursing.

"Stop it," she yelled, yanking on Vlad's shoulder, feeling largely invincible.

Vlad turned around and looked Karen up and down. She felt her life flash before her eyes.

He drew back a fist and socked Karen straight in the nose.

She reeled back in shock. Karen had never been punched before. Not even lightly. And this time it hurt.

Frank responded immediately by tackling Vlad to the ground and completely wailing on him.

Karen backed away into the crowd, ignoring the slight concern of kids she passed. She couldn't watch him fight. She couldn't put herself through it again.

Karen was going to end it all. She pulled out her phone and dialed 911, knowing it was the only way to break the fight up and get Frank out alive.

"Hello, 911, what is your emergency?"

"There's a crazy party at 110 Calloway Lane and there are all these kids fighting and drinking," Karen told them while trying to pinch her nose and avoid having a meltdown.

"We know the address," the woman sighed, probably answering this kind of call for at least her tenth time, "Officers will be there in 5."

Karen hung up the phone and tried to stop herself from crying. She waited the feeling out. Frank looked okay, other fights were breaking out and distracting the other kids.

His cheek was bleeding, and he was grabbing his chest, but Vlad was staying down.

Frank was free, and he was walking towards her.

They locked eyes, and Karen felt like the world was slowing around her. The noise went low, her vision sharpened, focusing solely on him.

Something had shifted, and as they kept their eyes locked, they both new.

There was no going back now.

He stopped as he stood in front of her, so close she could hardly look him in the eye.

"Did you do it?" he asked her simply.

She only nodded, feeling too overwhelmed to explain what had happened to him.

"Come on," Karen grabbed Frank's hand. "Let's leave."

He nodded and locked his fingers into hers. He was moving slower than her, his face puffy and body bruised.

"HOLY SHIT IT'S THE COPS!"

The lights went out.

Karen gripped Frank's arm tighter as kids started to scream.

They dodged the rest of the panicking students and made their way out the back sliding door, past the beer pong table.

Karen started to run towards the woods, still holding onto Frank's hand tightly. Blue lights were circling the house. She lead him on the shortcut through the woods that would land them in front of the high school. They both held down the branches and helped each other avoid briars.

"Are you okay?" Karen finally asked him as they made it to the road again and out of the Police's sight.

"I'm fine," Frank told her, smirking just a little, "How's your nose?" he gestured.

"It hurts," she dismissed her nosebleed and refocused on him, "Can you keep going?"

"I'm really okay," Frank smiled at her, "Probably just a cracked rib or two."

"Just cracked a rib or two," she muttered under her breath, hardly believing her own luck.

"It was a good fight? Wasn't it?" he smiled, looking at her intently.

"At least it was worth it," she smiled back, despite it all.

The hum of crickets was beginning to rise, and a soft fog had descended over them, clouding the street lights and leaving the air cool and comfortable. It was so peaceful, just walking, forgetting about what had happened that night.

Karen felt at peace, until Frank spoke up again.

"So why did you kiss that kid?" Frank asked out of the blue.

Karen's stomach dropped.

"I didn't think you saw that," Karen blushed.

"Oh, I saw it alright," he replied, sounding just slightly bitter.

"I panicked."

Frank threw his head back and laughed. "Is that how you usually panic?"

"Stop it," she punched his chest lightly.

"Aw shit, that's the rib," he gasped, stopping in the road.

"Oh my God," Karen covered her mouth, "I'm so sorry."

A flash of lightning streaked across the sky.

A loud crack of thunder followed, along with a sudden and steady downpour of rain.

"Wanna run for it?" Frank asked.

"Can you?"

He shrugged, "Might as well try."

"Let's go," Karen nodded, grabbing his hand and following behind him, using him to block the rain.

They dashed a mile down the street, passing a couple cars and dodging streetlights. Her chest tightened, her legs started to burn, and each jolt of her foot hitting the pavement sent a wave of pain to the stitch in her side.

But Karen felt so at peace, just listening to the rain, running through the puddles, and hearing Frank's laugh. She didn't want to stop.

Karen let go of Frank's hand as they stepped onto her porch, ignoring the slight roll of her stomach. Now that they were done helping each other, she needed to truly evaluate how she saw him and what she was feeling.

In typical Karen fashion, she put it off and decided she at least didn't want him to leave for the time being.

"Come on in," Karen invited him as she pulled out her keys, "I'll make sure you don't die."

He smiled and followed her inside, carrying her backpack in from its place on the porch.

She moved to the freezer immediately and pulled them out a few bags of frozen vegetables to use as ice packs.

They settled on the couch, both coddling their injuries as they watched a nature documentary together on mute.

Karen enjoyed the hum of the TV as they sat together, both trying to numb their injuries. Frank was nearly covered in frozen broccoli and blueberries. They stayed that way for a while, both needing time to settle down from all of the excitement.

"That was a fun night," Frank commented, breaking the comfortable silence.

"What part?" Karen smiled.

"Most of it," he shrugged, "It just felt right, y'know?"

Karen opened her mouth to agree with him.

Her phone started to vibrate against the table.

She picked it up and checked the caller ID. It was an unknown number.

"Hello?" Karen answered anyway.

"Hi, is this Karen Page?" a distinctive voice asked.

"Yeah, who's this?"

Frank looked over at her in concern.

"It's Matthew's friend, Elektra," she replied, sounding nervous.

"Oh," Karen responded in surprise, "Is everything alright?"

"I'm actually at the police station right now."

Karen dropped her phone.

"Holy shit."

Chapter Text

It was 10 o'clock Friday night, and Karen was soaking wet from the rain, still wearing her party clothes, and had a small amount of blood still dripping under her nose.

To top it off, she was walking into the police station to pick up a girl she barely knew.

The night had been stressful, to say the least, between getting punched in the nose, kissing Grotto, and running home from the cops. Elektra's call couldn't have come at a worse time, but Karen was a sucker for helping a friend in need.

"Hi, I need to pick up my friend," Karen awkwardly greeted the officer stationed at the front desk. Believe it or not, Karen had never picked anyone up from jail before.

The officer rolled her eyes, and sighed, "Your name?"

"Karen Page."

"Your friend's name?"

"Elektra...," Karen began.

"Last name?" the officer looked up at Karen.

"I don't know her last name," Karen admitted, scratching her neck.

The officer narrowed her eyes at Karen.

"Please," Karen begged, "How many perps do you have named Elektra?"

The officer rolled her eyes and passed Karen the clipboard. "Sign here."

Karen quickly scribbled her signature.

"It'll be a little bit."

Karen nodded and took her seat in the lobby. Just behind the desk, she could see the sergeant's office door.

She knew Sergeant Mahoney was probably busy, but she really wanted to know if he had seen the e-mail yet. More than anything, she wanted to knock on his office door and celebrate with him.

Karen waited impatiently instead, not 100% sure why Elektra had called her, or even why she had landed herself in jail to begin with.

And where was Matt? They were practically joined at the hip. Chances were he needed busted out of his cell as well.

Karen thought back to Frank, who was still sleeping on her couch, as far as she knew. She kept her mind open.

Sometimes people do bad things for good reasons, she reminded herself.

Elektra emerged from the hallway, escorted by an officer, looking exceptionally rough. Her hair was mussed and makeup smudged, and her outfit made it look like she was aiming to rob a bank.

She looked embarrassed as she approached Karen, not quite knowing what to say.

"I'm so sorry for this," Elektra wiped her eyes, not making eye contact with Karen as she approached her.

"It's okay," Karen reassured her, trying to comfort her.

Karen held the door for her, and they walked out into the rain. She had the foresight to bring an umbrella for them to share.

"Someone already picked Matthew up, but I didn't know anyone in this town," Elektra explained, shaking her head.

"That's okay," Karen assured her, putting a hand on her shoulder, "Do you want to stay with me?"

Elektra looked up at her, "Are you serious?"

Karen wasn't serious, and she hoped Elektra would decline and save her from the intense awkwardness, but when she saw how desperate Elektra looked, Karen couldn't turn her down.

"Yeah," Karen smiled, "Of course."

"That would be- that would be really great," Elektra smiled.

They walked together in silence for awhile, only listening to the loud impact of rain drops on the umbrella above them.

"I thought Matthew really saw something great in me," Elektra muttered, barely loud enough for Karen to hear.

Karen tried to ask delicately, "Is it over between you?"

"I'd expect so," she laughed drolly, "I'm sure he's horrified of me now, and I'll never forget his ridiculous little face."

"That's Matt," Karen smiled grimly, "He comes in, he makes you care about him, and then he makes you hate him."

Elektra laughed, "He got to you as well?"

Karen scratched her neck, "It doesn't last forever. The feeling passes, once you realize it's not going to work with him."

"I hope it ends quick," Elektra sniffed.

Karen had to ask before the thought ate her alive.

"What have you guys been doing all this time?" she asked gently. "Why have you been disappearing together?"

Elektra laughed, "God, it seems so stupid now."

Karen only looked over at her, hoping she would continue.

"There's this old man I know, and he teaches self defense," she sniffed, "And Matthew wanted to learn how to defend himself."

"Okay," Karen followed her story, "Makes sense."

"So I took him to learn, and he did really well," she smiled, "He was a natural."

"Really?" Karen was skeptical, "Is he athletic?"

"Oh yes," Elektra told her in a voice that made Karen slightly uncomfortable, "You wouldn't believe."

Karen coughed uncomfortably.

"Anyway," she continued, sensing Karen's discomfort, "We'd been training together, for the last month, and we thought we were doing pretty well."

"Okay," Karen nodded, starting to worry about where she was headed with this story.

"Matthew thought that we could use our strength to help people," she chuckled, "People who couldn't help themselves."

"Sounds like Matt," Karen muttered.

"You won't believe this," Elektra turned towards her, "The football team at your school, they send each other illegal pictures of young girls."

Karen stopped in her tracks.

"Matthew heard about it from a freshman girl who lives with him at St. Agnes," Elektra explained, mistaking Karen's surprise for disbelief.

"We decided we would try to stop them," Elektra told her, "So we went to the party tonight."

Karen could hardly breathe.

"We thought we could corner a football player, beat them up a little, and get some answers," Elektra shook her head.

Karen just nodded her on.

"But soon enough all hell broke loose, people were fighting, the cops came, and we were running out of time. So we turned out the lights."

"That was you?" Karen asked, starting to piece things together.

"Wait- were you there?" Elektra tilted her head.

"Just keep going," Karen directed, "I can explain later."

"Well, it was a terrible idea," she sniffed, "Of course, Matthew can't tell when a room goes dark, but for me, fighting becomes more difficult."

Karen nodded, wishing she would speak faster.

"The only football player we could find was a kid named Luke," she explained.

"Oh no," Karen felt a deep pang of dread.

"He was so strong, Karen, not like anything I'd ever seen before," she described, "It was like we couldn't even hurt him."

"And the cops?" Karen could see where this was headed.

"Saw Matthew and I trying to assault Luke," she nodded.

Karen decided not to ruminate on the arrest. "Luke's not involved in that stuff, anyway," Karen shook her head.

"How do you know?" Elektra turned towards her.

"I wish we would have talked before you all came to the party," she sighed, "Because I was there for the same reason."

"What?"

It was Elektra's turn to be shocked.

"I have this friend, he's knew at school," Karen felt oddly comfortable calling Frank her friend, "And we decided to try and stop the football team legally."

"Did it work?"

"I stole a boy's phone and sent all of the team's pictures to the police," she smiled, waiting for Elektra's reaction.

"You had it taken care of," Elektra shook her head, smiling slightly.

"More or less," Karen replied humbly.

Elektra laughed genuinely for the first time that night. "So you think they'll be caught?" Elektra sounded a little more cheery.

"We can only hope," Karen smiled at her.

It was almost midnight by the time they stumbled into the house, both slightly wet and majorly tired.

Frank was still passed out on the couch, two bags of frozen broccoli on his forehead, as well as a whole orchard of frozen peaches on his ribs.

He looked hilarious to Karen, but horrifying to Elektra, who had no idea what was happening.

"That's Frank," Karen explained when she saw Elektra's expression, "The guy I told you about. He's conscious, just sleeping."

Elektra seemed slightly unconvinced, "Okay."

"Do you want something to eat?" Karen asked Elektra kindly, looking in the fridge.

"I'm actually starved," Elektra admitted, scratching her arm.

"These are like health milkshakes," she offered Elektra a breakfast drink, knowing she shouldn't try to cook her anything.

"Wonderful," Elektra smiled.

"And I have some dry clothes," Karen offered, disappearing into the laundry room. She pulled out two pairs of shorts as well as tank tops for them both.

Elektra was grateful for Karen's help, and the shorts eliminated the problem of length, considering how much shorter Elektra was than Karen.

They settled on the couch with their breakfast shakes and started to relax, both needing time to unwind from the stressful evening.

"Do you want an ice pack for your cheek?" Karen offered.

"That would be lovely," she laughed.

Karen took a bag of broccoli off of Frank's forehead gently and handed it to her.

"Thank you," Elektra smiled, "You're a wonderful person."

"Oh, it's not-,"

The door slammed, interrupting her.

She whipped her head around and met eyes with Kevin, who could not comprehend the scene he was walking in on.

"What the hell?" Kevin dropped his bag on the floor.

Karen and Elektra snapped their heads toward the door, and Frank started to wake up.

"Hey, Kevin, it's been a really crazy night," Karen defended herself, getting up from the couch.

"What happened to Frank?!?" he shouted.

"I'm fine," Frank mumbled, his face covered by a bag of peas.

"There was a fight at this party we went to," Karen told him in a measured and casual tone.

"You went to a party?!"

"I didn't drink!" Karen quickly assured him.

"Who is this kid?!" Kevin pointed at Elektra.

Karen calmly and gently told him, "This is Elektra, Matt's girlfriend."

"Ex," Elektra quietly corrected.

"The cops came to the party, and I had to bail her out of jail," Karen explained, somehow making the situation much worse.

Kevin was on the edge of a meltdown. "Oh my God."

"I can explain," Karen reached up and put both hands on his shoulders.

"You better be able to explain," he threatened.

"Just calm down," Karen directed him towards a stool. "We're all okay, no one's been drinking, Frank is going to be fine, and my nose isn't bleeding anymore."

Kevin slowly began to even his temper out. His breathing began to turn to normal as he watched how calm and in control Karen seemed in the situation.

"Explain what happened," he asked her softly, sounding more composed.

"Well-," Karen began gently.

"The football players are all sex offenders," Frank blurted.

"WHAT?!"

"Damn it, Frank, I'm trying to calm him down!" Karen shouted.

"Sex offenders?!"

"They send each other bad pictures," Karen explained, "Me and Frank went to the party to investigate, but Frank got jumped."

"Okay," Kevin started to piece things together.

"And Elektra got put in holding after she tried to beat up one of the football players," Karen exaggerated, not pointing out that the kid Elektra attacked was innocent.

Kevin looked over at Elektra.

"We only did it because there are a ton of young girls who these boys are manipulating," Karen promised, "They needed our help."

Kevin took a moment to fully consider her words.

"So you were all doing something good?" Kevin raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Karen smiled, "You could say that."

"Can I get a ride to church?" Elektra blurted..

"You're a good person, Karen," Kevin beamed, ignoring Elektra, "I'm proud of you."

Karen smiled, feeling a little embarrassed.

"My dad is waiting at St. Paul's," Elektra continued, hoping someone would listen to her.

Kevin sighed deeply and stood up from his chair, "Okay, kiddo," he pointed at Elektra, "I'll take you to church."

"Wonderful," Elektra smiled, walking into the kitchen.

"On the way, I'm giving you a lesson on why you shouldn't commit felonies," he shook his finger.

Kevin promptly headed for the door and held it open impatiently.

"Thanks for everything," Elektra smiled at Karen as she headed out the door.

"No fighting while I'm gone," Kevin winked at Karen and Frank as he closed the door behind him.

They drove off loudly, Kevin likely trying to intimidate Elektra.

Karen sighed deeply and took a seat on the couch next to Frank's head.

The room was quiet now, and much more peaceful without Kevin or Elektra.

"Your brother is pretty hilarious," Frank smiled up at her.

"Only when he isn't trying," Karen smirked.

Frank laughed, and it sounded so sweet and genuine. Karen instantly regretted how their night was ruined.

"Sorry about Elektra," Karen grimaced, "We could have watched a movie or something."

"You were just being a good friend," he shrugged, "Not many people would do something like that."

Karen immediately blushed, "Thanks."

Frank looked away from her, blushing as well.

"I should get home," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes as he sat up. His hair was sticking up in every direction.

Karen got up from the couch so he wouldn't see her disappointment.

"Do you want a snack?" she asked, walking into the kitchen and changing the subject.

"What, are you gonna cook me something?" Frank challenged, smirking lightly as he followed her.

"Ha ha," Karen replied sarcastically, pulling a granola bar out of the pantry.

"I honestly need to get home, though," Frank muttered, "My uncle is going to kill me."

"Yeah," Karen sighed, "Your face is still pretty swollen, but it looks a lot better. You might get away with it, say you're having an allergic reaction."

"I'm not getting away with anything," he mumbled, "I'll be grounded another week I bet."

"Are you coming back to school?" Karen asked, hoping she could see him on a more regular basis.

"My uncle has it set up where they're sending me assignments at home," he shook his head. "It wouldn't be safe anyway."

Karen frowned, marginally agreeing, but also disappointed.

"I started the article," she changed the subject, smiling excitedly.

Frank smiled back, "And it prints Monday?"

"Yeah," she grinned, "Everyone will know what a hero you are."

Franks expression shifted slightly, "Yeah."

Karen smiled at him.

Frank looked away and headed for the door to put on his shoes.

Karen knew a warning sign when she saw it, but she decided to stay casual.

"So I'm going to see you soon, right?" she followed him to the door.

"Uh, yeah," Frank avoided looking her in the eye.

"Is something wrong?" she finally asked.

"I'm just worried," he scratched the back of his neck.

"Okay," she shrugged nonchalantly despite the hammering in her chest.

"I don't know how to say this," he looked away from her awkwardly.

Karen stayed quiet, hoping he would express himself quickly.

"I'm worried that I'm a bad influence on you," he blurted.

"A bad influence?" Karen asked in disbelief, a slight smirk on her lips.

"I don't know," he mumbled, "I bring out the worst in people."

"What are you talking about?" she shook her head, "I'm at my best around you."

"It's not," he shook his head, "I just worry about it," he looked frustrated and unable to voice how he was really feeling.

Karen could see this easily, so she did what needed to be done.

She pulled him into a hug, quickly and firmly.

Frank almost fell over in shock as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close.

After a moment, when he was sure she wouldn't let go, he wrapped his arms around her as tightly as he could.

They stayed that way for a few moments, until Karen finally pulled away from him gently.

"You're not a bad person," she told him, keeping a hand on his shoulder.

Frank didn't know what to say.

"We did something really great tonight, and a lot of people are going to be thankful for it."

Frank nodded slowly, starting to smirk lightly.

"Thank you," he finally replied, putting his hand over hers as it rested on his shoulder. He couldn't say what he was truly feeling, but he was trying as best he could.

"I'll see you soon," Karen blushed, opening the door with her free hand.

Frank nodded, "Okay," and let go of her hand.

He walked out the door and into the rain. He sprinted towards his house, pulling out the ladder from behind the bushes. Karen waited to make sure he got in his window safely, and then she retreated inside.

Karen slumped against the door, the goofiest smile on her face. She was retreating into a fit of giggles, and she felt like an absolute child.

Once she had finally composed herself, she made her way to the couch. Within minutes, Karen was sleeping, with no plans of waking up soon.

Chapter Text

It was Monday morning, nearly lunch time at Midtown High, and Karen was on her way to deliver a case of freshly printed newspapers to the cafeteria.

Her heart rate was steadily increasing as she sped down the hall, avoiding glances from other students. The box in her hands contained a newspaper featuring an article that would absolutely rock the school to its core.

"Football Stars Turned Criminals: How 22 Athletes Have Exploited Young Women and Dishonored Their Community," was a scathing publication, in which Karen detailed the activity of the players, and ultimately listed the names of all twenty two of the boys involved.

It was daring, and potentially slander, but Karen was past the point of caring. They needed to be punished, and she was doing her best to ensure the safety of other students.

Karen approached the front lunch table and set down the giant box, slowly unpacking the papers and spreading them out on the table.

Immediately, a few of the regular reader came up and took their paper, each slowly reading the new publication as they headed for their seats. Karen stood next to the box for a few minutes, smiling at each kid who picked up an issue, occasionally apologizing for the paper being late.

Something shifted in the room.

The line to the newspaper table started to grow, and the low buzz of conversation was elevating. She could see kids showing their friends, talking loudly amongst their tables.

Soon enough, there were groups of kids looking at Karen.

She felt put on the spot, and to some degree, threatened.

A group of redheads usually seen around Finn Nesbitt were without their leader, but they still looked threatening as they stared Karen down.

Karen needed to leave before she got her ass handed to her.

She gracefully slipped away towards the edges of the cafeteria, trying to stay out of sight and guarded. The kids she passed were all reading their newspapers, some she saw looking at the school website on their phones.

As she reached for the door, Karen locked eyes with Hope Shlottman.

Hope smiled, very briefly at Karen.

Karen nodded, feeling a slight warmth in her chest.

She made her retreat down the hall and found safety in Mr. Ellison's room. Karen slumped against the door as she entered, trying to compose herself.

"Everything okay?" he asked, barely looking away from his computer.

"I didn't think this would be dangerous," she mumbled.

"Karen, you just ensured jail sentences for 22 students, did you not expect any blowback?"

"I know," she rubbed her neck, "I just thought things would happen faster. I thought they'd all be in jail by now."

Ellison sighed, "Read this," he handed her a sheet of paper.

"What is it?" Karen asked immediately.

"It's today's absence list."

"What am I looking for?" she asked after a moment.

Ellison sighed, "How many football players are on that list?"

Karen started to count.

"12."

Ellison raised his eyebrows at her, "Whether those twelve are being interrogated by the police, or whether they're staying at home, they know what's happening, Karen."

Karen smiled, ignoring how dangerous her current situation was, considering there were 10 implicated players in currently in the building, "It's working."

A knock came at the door.

"Come in," Ellison shouted.

Trish Walker, red faced and panting, leaned her head in.

"We ran out of papers," Trish told them, out of breath.

"Ran out?!" Ellison asked, like running out was a foreign concept.

"Everyone wants a copy," she beamed.

"What about online?!" Karen asked quickly.

"The site went down," she explained, "Too many people on at once."

"What do we do?" Karen turned to Ellison.

"We print more!" he told her simply, reaching over and booting up the copier.

They printed enough for each teacher and faculty member as well, and everyone felt a little brighter, knowing that the word was being spread, and that justice might soon be served.

Karen spent the rest of her day in Ellison's room, skipping Calc for "safety reasons" as she explained to the office secretary, who rolled her eyes and wrote Karen a pass anyway.

Ellison decided Karen should leave the school a few minutes early to avoid the crowd of kids. She readily accepted his judgement and was grateful to him for letting her go.

As Karen slipped out of the school, she immediately noticed a kid leaning against the building.

It was Matt.

She knew he probably had heard her coming, and avoiding him was useless. In any case, she walked up to him slowly, ignoring the bruises and cuts on his face.

"Hey," she greeted awkwardly, feeling uncomfortable around him.

"Hi, Karen," he smiled soberly at her.

"Did you miss class?" she asked, pulling her hair out of her face.

"Yeah," he nodded, "Couldn't focus."

Karen didn't know how to gracefully respond, so she stayed quiet.

"I really want to talk to you about something," Matt finally stammered.

"Oh, okay," Karen replied gently, "What is it?"

"Do you want to go to the diner?" he asked, shifting around the subject.

"Uh, sure," Karen shrugged, "If that's better for you."

Karen really didn't want to go to the diner at all. She wanted to go home, take a nap, and maybe call Frank when she woke up. But she continued walking with Matt anyway, giving him the benefit of the doubt.

"Is everything alright?" she asked as they turned the corner.

"Yeah," Matt deflected, "We just need to be on the same page."

"Huh, page," Karen awkwardly made a pun, "You get it, because I'm Page?"

Matt laughed lightly, "I've missed that."

They stepped into the diner and took their seats. After ordering their coffee and waffles from Elena, they were both done with the small talk.

"So," Karen began, "What did you need to tell me?" To some degree, she wanted this conversation to be over quickly.

"I know that you picked up Elektra Friday night," Matt told her plainly.

"Oh," Karen responded, not sure how she should continue.

"I don't know what she told you," Matt shook his head, "But I want you to hear it from me, so you'll know exactly what's been going on."

Karen cleared her throat, "I know you tried to beat up Luke and got arrested."

Matt grimaced, "Okay."

"She said you were trying to stop the football team," Karen tested him, hoping Elektra was telling the complete truth.

"That was the idea," he admitted.

"What am I missing then?" Karen asked.

"It's been happening for a while," he frowned, "It didn't start when I met Elektra."

"What didn't start when you met Elektra?" Karen raised her eyebrows.

"The fighting," he clarified, "I've been boxing for a while, it's personal."

"Your dad," Karen muttered in understanding.

"Elektra wanted to take it to far, and I shouldn't have let her blind me like that. I was willing to do whatever she asked me," he looked so ashamed.

Karen just stayed silent, letting him vent.

"I wanted to make them pay," he sighed, "But I ruined my chance."

Karen sighed, glad he was being honest with her. At least everything had turned out alright.

"Have you heard about the article, yet?" Karen smiled.

"Yeah," Matt grinned, "Good job with that."

"I thought you'd tell me off for not being careful," Karen sipped her coffee.

"That would be hypocritical," he smiled.

Karen laughed lightly.

"Me and Foggy were very worried about you," she told him, sounding slightly bitter.

"I'm not myself when I'm with Elektra," he deflected her accusatory statement. "She brings something out in me that's just-,"

"I get that," Karen nodded firmly, "But you have to take responsibility for what you did."

"I know, and I can promise I'll never let it get this bad," he shook his head. "Never again."

"Have you made up with Foggy?"

"He hasn't answered my calls," Matt shook his head.

"He's a mess," Karen sighed, "I've been trying to avoid him and Marci since the baseball game."

"They're still split up?"

"For the time being, I'm giving them two more days tops before they make up."

Matt laughed lightly, "How have you been?"

"Do you really want to know?" Karen asked, "Or are you just being nice?"

Matt frowned, "I know I'm a terrible friend, Karen, but please, let me try," he begged.

Karen smiled lightly. What the hell, she thought, maybe he was being genuine.

"Well, mainly I've been working on the article, and you'll never guess who's been-,"

"Karen, don't move," Matt interrupted her, his jaw clenching.

"What's wrong?" Karen asked, her muscles starting to tense up.

"They're coming," he hissed.

"Who- who's coming, Matt?" Karen's heart rate started to climb.

"Nobu."

As if on cue, the doorbell chimed, and Kirigi Nobu sauntered into the diner, followed by a posse of three boys Karen barely recognized out of their football uniforms.

Immediately, they spotted Karen and Matt together and started to make their way over.

Karen's heart was in her throat.

They stopped at the head of their table, Kirigi looking cocky and confident.

"I read your article," Kirigi looked Karen up and down, venom in his voice.

Karen sipped her coffee.

"What'd you think?" she looked him in the eye.

He didn't respond quickly, not expecting her to be so bold.

"Did you get some work done, on your nose?" Karen continued, just not giving a shit anymore.

Kirigi narrowed his eyes at her, his face starting to go red.

"It's got a bump in it now," she told him boldly, "You look like a fucking toucan."

Kirigi started to clench his fist.

"You don't want to do this," Matt warned him.

"I will not be threatened by a blind kid and his bitch."

Karen wasn't exactly sure how the fight progressed. All she knew was that Matt was up in a split second, the rest went by in a flash.

Matt had flipped Nobu onto the table, and he was currently standing behind him pulling his hands behind his back.

Nobu was trying to wrestle free, but Matt had his face planted into the table, arms pulled far back enough to snap with a flick of Matt's wrist.

Karen felt like puking.

"Go," Matt directed the other football players.

They were too afraid to move.

Matt picked up Nobu's head and rammed into the table.

"GO NOW."

They practically toppled over each other as they ran for the door.

Matt's breathing was ragged, Kirigi was screaming, Elena was on the phone with the police, and Karen was on the edge of hyperventilating.

"Karen, go," Matt directed her calmly.

She didn't need encouragement. She grabbed her bag and made a sprint for the door.

Karen ran home as quickly as she could, not looking back for a moment. As she reached her home, she looked around, making sure there wasn't an ambush waiting for her.

Once inside, she grabbed Kevin's baseball bat from the closet and gripped it tightly, just in case.

She locked every door in her house, shut off all the lights, drew all the curtains, and hid in the bathroom. She started to call Kevin to come get her and take her to the mill with him.

As long as Finn Nesbitt and Kirigi Nobu knew where she lived, Karen wasn't safe.

Chapter Text

It was a windy Monday afternoon, and Karen Page was locked in her bathroom, sitting on the floor and trying her very best not to have a panic attack.

The source of her anxiety was that someone was pounding at her door, and she knew they weren't making a simple social call.

Whoever was outside wanted Karen's blood.

Kevin had been convinced to come home, after Karen called him crying over the situation. Obviously, he was too late.

The team had found her.

Karen was dead in the water. They would find a way in eventually, and she had no clue what would happen then.

Seeing that she had no options left, she did what she always did during a crisis.

Karen called Frank.

She was shaking, chest hiccuping and breathing unsteady. Her body rocked back and forth against the wall, as she tried to find a way to calm down.

"Hello?" Frank answered on the second ring, sounding happy to talk to her.

"Hi," she sniffed, trying to even out her breathing. His voice was a small comfort.

"Are you okay?" his tone immediately changed in concern, "Karen?"

"Could you look and see if anyone is outside my house?" she asked him simply.

"Yeah, just give me a second," he answered, sounding perplexed.

"Okay," Karen wiped her eyes, "Thank you."

"Holy shit, there's a pack of kids on your porch," he responded, "What's going on?"

"I was at the diner with Matt," her chest started to heave, "And Nobu came in, because he was mad at me for the article, and Matt beat him up, and now they all want to hurt me," she rushed out, her chest heaving after each breath.

"I'm coming over," Frank responded instantly, anger in his voice, "Call the police," he instructed before hanging up the phone.

She took his advice and dialed immediately.

"911 what is your emergency?"

"I'm at 110 Bluebell Street," she sniffed, walking out of the bathroom and towards a window. "There is a big pack of boys yelling at me on my lawn, and they're trying to get into my house."

"Okay, we'll send someone," the operator responded, "How many of them are there?"

Karen barely opened the blind and started to count.

Nesbitt and his gang were all accounted for, Nobu's friends had come, and the whole defensive line was represented.

"There are 19," she said confidently.

"Okay, then," the operator sounded impressed, "We'll send backup."

"Thank you," Karen responded cooly, setting her phone down so she wouldn't have to keep responding to the operator.

She was too focused on the scene unfolding on her lawn.

Frank had appeared, making Karen's breath hitch. She didn't want to put Frank in danger. She wanted him to be safe, more than anything.

As he approached the group, she wondered if Frank could maybe talk them down. She hoped against her better judgement that the situation could be resolved peacefully.

Frank threw the first punch at a kid moments later, as she truly expected.

Karen's stomach heaved.

Frank usually held his own well in a fight, but not against half the football team. He was basically getting pummeled.

It was taking all of Karen's self control not to run out there and try and help, but she knew it would ultimately just make the situation worse.

Someone else had entered the fight, and they weren't after Frank, to Karen's surprise. They were after one of the players, sending him flying with a single kick.

It was Matt.

Karen recognized his face easily in the distance, and he was moving unlike anything she'd ever seen. His motions were fluid and calculated, each punch and kick carefully measured and perfectly placed.

Frank was not holding up as well. His face was covered in blood, likely a combination of his own and of others.

When she saw Frank take a particularly brutal punch to the gut, right where she knew his ribs were still healing, she knew what needed to be done.

Frank and Matt couldn't take them all on by themselves.

She needed to do something. She needed to save them.

Karen took a deep breath and opened the front door.

Almost immediately, the fighting stopped, and everyone turned in Karen's direction.

She stood confidently in the doorway, hands gripping the baseball bat like a vice.

Finn Nesbitt was the first to move decisively, stepping forward onto her porch.

"Showing your face, huh?" he asked bitterly.

"Stay back," she warned him, raising her bat into position.

Finn laughed aloud, "I'm shaking."

"The evidence is already in," Karen informed him, "If you hurt me, you're just adding months to your sentence."

Finn laughed, "Do you really think we give a shit about that right now? You've ruined our lives, and we have the chance to make you pay for it," he spat.

"I ruined YOUR lives?! Do you have any idea how those girls felt?" she shouted.

Finn was fuming, "You're coming with me."

He reached forward, grabbing for Karen's arm.

Karen swung the bat as hard as she could, making contact with the side of Finn's head with a sharp crack.

Finn shouted as his body hit the ground with a loud thud. He rolled onto his back, groaning and clutching his head.

"DOES ANYONE ELSE WANT TO TRY?" Karen shouted, pointing her bat at the nearest kid.

Sirens sounded in the distance.

A few of the kids started to run, but most were glued to the pavement, their eyes locked on Karen and filled with horror.

Matt started to run away, and for good reason, considering he'd been put in custody only a few days before.

Six police cars lined up the street in front of Karen's house, and officers quickly moved out to restrain the football players with generally little struggle.

Karen dropped her baseball bat and sat down on her porch stoop, her breathing still ragged.

One officer called in an ambulance for Finn, who was still rolling on the ground. Karen momentarily regretted hitting him so hard, but then remembered what a sack of shit he was. She wouldn't lose any sleep over it.

Sergeant Mahoney arrived behind the officers, dressed in his elaborate uniform and looking incredibly imposing.

"Ms. Page, are you doing alright?" he greeted, walking up to her porch.

"Yeah," she nodded, "I'm fine."

"Was this you?" he asked, pointing at Finn.

Karen nodded very slowly.

Sergeant Mahoney smiled imperceptibly.

"Okay," the Sergeant directed his officers, "Get everyone in cuffs and bring them back to the station."

An officer started to restrain Frank, and Karen nearly shouted at him in protest.

"No," Karen told the sergeant, "He was helping me," she pointed at Frank.

"What do you mean?" he asked, assuming Karen had taken them on all on her own.

"He was trying to stop all of these guys from hurting me," she defended.

The Sergeant narrowed his eyes, "He's covered in blood."

"It was self defense," Karen put her hands up.

The Sergeant sighed lightly.

"Let him come with me," he directed, "We need to go back to the station and get your statements, anyway," he informed them. "You can both ride with me."

They shuffled to the car, Frank both bloody and slightly injured. Karen smiled at him, largely glad the three of them were still alive.

They rode in the backseat together, Karen uncomfortable talking with their friend's dad.

"Where did you learn to fight like that?" Karen whispered to him hoarsely.

"Where did you learn to swing a bat like that?!" Frank returned, dodging her question.

Karen laughed and avoided the question as well, just glad to be safe for once.

They reached the station and were escorted into Mahoney's office, past the shaking football players being taken to interrogation rooms.

Mahoney sighed deeply as he took his office chair, gesturing for Frank and Karen to take the two seats in front of his desk.

"So, I'm guessing this attack was a retaliation for the article Brett showed me this morning," the sergeant plainly suggested, looking Karen in the eye.

"Yeah," Karen confirmed, "That's exactly what it was."

"We were sent an email with an overwhelming amount of evidence from a Mr. Grotto," he informed her, "I won't ask if you were involved in that as well."

Karen blushed a little. At least she knew the evidence was safe.

"And how do you fit into this?" the sergeant gestured to Frank.

"We're neighbors, Sir," Frank nodded, "She called me for help."

"Looks like she didn't need it," the sergeant raised his eyebrows.

Frank laughed lightly, a little embarrassed.

"Officer Brown?" the sergeant shouted.

Seconds later, an officer had scrambled to the door.

"Yes, sir?" he immediately asked, his voice cracking in nervousness.

"How many of the kids do have we brought in?"

"We've found 17 out of 19," the officer confirmed.

"Thank you," the sergeant waved Officer Brown away, "We can keep an officer watching your house, if that would make you feel safer."

"I think I'll be okay," Karen smiled, "But thank you, I appreciate it.

"We'll keep you updated on what's going on with the case," the Sergeant promised, "But if I could guess, these kids will be behind bars before Prom this weekend."

Karen smiled, "Thank you so much."

"I should have all I need from you, you're both free to go," he nodded at Karen and Frank.

"Thank you, Sir," Frank nodded reverently as they both stood from their chairs.

They left the precinct quietly and quickly, trying to avoid any fuss. They didn't want to attract any attention to themselves, given the situation.

The air was going cool as the sun set, and the sky had a soft orange glow to it. Karen and Franked stepped into the light and immediately started smiling in relief.

"Are you good?" Frank asked Karen gently as he closed the door behind them.

"I'm great," Karen smiled at him, "Thanks for fighting in my yard."

Frank laughed, "You're welcome."

They walked home in a comfortable silence, listening to the hum of crickets rise around them. Karen was hyper aware of every movement Frank made as they walked side by side. Frank was carefully debating on whether he should hold Karen's hand, but he ultimately decided against it.

As they reached Karen's porch, neither of them knew exactly how to say goodbye to the other.

Something had been weighing heavily on Karen's mind since they had left Sergeant Mahoney's office, and she needed it off her chest.

"Do you want to go to prom with me?" Karen blurted.

Frank was taken aback. He needed a moment to comprehend.

"Prom?" he whispered nervously, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," she smiled back at him, "I'm sure."

"What do I- what color are you wearing?" his head was spinning, focusing mainly on tie colors and where the hell he could find a corsage.

"It's green," she laughed, "Don't worry, we'll figure it all out."

"Okay," he blushed slightly, "I'll call you tomorrow?"

"Yeah," she opened her door and stepped inside, "Night."

"Night," he called back, feeling so excited he nearly skipped home.

Chapter Text

It was Karen's last Friday at Midtown High School, and even though school had ended an hour ago, Karen was staying behind in Ellison's office to celebrate.

Grotto had pleaded guilty the night before, and the rest of the team followed suit. Most were facing prison time, and Karen had never felt safer. The school was free of them, and the world was better for it.

As they sat in Ellison's office, Karen was starting to feel sentimental as she looked back at her two years in the school.

"I'm going to miss this place," Karen admitted.

"Bigger and better things," Ellison assured her, "You're future's bright."

"And undecided," she murmured, not wanting to think about her college prospects.

"I took the liberty, Monday morning, to send your article on to a few different schools I knew you were interested in," Ellison explained.

"Okay," Karen nodded, half expecting he would do something like that behind her back.

"These came in for you yesterday," he handed her a small stack of envelopes.

Karen's heart rate tripled. She slowly opened the letters one by one, scanning their contents and trying not to implode upon reading.

She set down each after reading, barely containing her emotions.

"I didn't get the scholarship to Columbia," she finally told him, a slight frown on her face.

"You can't win them all, Karen," he consoled her lightly, knowing the school was her first pick.

"I got one to NYU, though," she grinned, barely able to contain herself.

"No way!" Ellison gasped, "Show me!"

"I can go tuition free," she nearly yelled, handing him the letter.

"Oh my God."

"All I have to do is pay for room and books and board," she was nearly panting, "I could get a job, or I could be an RA, it wouldn't be hard to manage."

"Calm down, Karen," Ellison laughed.

"It's happening," Karen grinned.

"You should call Ben," Ellison suggested.

"Oh my God," Karen gasped, "I should."

She whipped out her cell and scrolled through her contacts, quickly selecting Ben Urich.

Karen was nearly bouncing as she waited for him to pick up the phone. She just hoped he wasn't too busy to answer.

"How's my favorite editor?" Ben's deep voice greeted her.

"Great, how's Oxford?" Karen hid her excitement to be polite.

"Cold," he laughed, "How's Vermont?"

"Not as cold, I'd bet," she admitted, "But it's comfortable."

"I read the article," he told her, guessing the reason for her call, "You know it brought tears to my eyes?"

Karen laughed, "Don't be sappy, Ben."

"What's the follow up? What happened to the kids?"

"Most of them are doing time, a couple are under 18, so they have commuted sentences. A lot of them lost sports scholarships."

"Serves them right," he laughed, "You've done a great thing, Karen."

"I got a scholarship to NYU," she blurted.

"No way."

"It covers my tuition," she gushed, "I can go to college, Ben, and a nice college."

"I'm so proud of you," he told her, sounding like he was ready to cry.

"Thanks," Karen was on the verge of tears, "Are you coming home anytime soon?"

"I'll be in Vermont for about a week this summer, you'll be the first person I call," he promised.

"Okay," Karen smiled to herself, "See you soon?"

"See you soon."

Karen wiped a tear from her eye as she hung up. He sounded so excited for her, and she felt so validated knowing he was proud of her. Ben had been her first friend in Vermont, and her inspiration to take up the newspaper in the first place. His encouragement meant the world to her.

A loud and precise knock came at the door.

"Come in," Ellison yelled.

It was the principal, Mr. Fisk, in all his bald headed glory. He was the husband of Karen's psychiatrist, and her opposite in nearly every way. Where she was small and friendly, he was gigantic and imposing.

"Mr. Ellison, Miss Page," he greeted them both.

"What can I help you with?" Ellison asked kindly.

"I just wanted to congratulate our star editor before she left," Fisk smiled at Karen.

"Thank you," Karen nodded, sitting up as straight as she possibly could.

"We have lost most of our football team, who created significant revenue for the school, but what can we do?" he threw his hands up passive aggressively, directing his attention at Ellison.

Karen started to feel very uncomfortable. It sounded a lot like Principal Fisk was displeased with her, despite all reason.

"In the future, be more careful when you stand up to powerful people," Fisk leaned in and whispered to her.

Karen shuddered.

"Again, congratulations to you both," Fisk bid them before leaving the office and closing the door behind him.

"What the hell was that?" Karen immediately whispered to Ellison.

"Fisk is upset with all the bad publicity happening, plus our sports teams are going to take a serious hit. Half of the kids on the football team wrestle in winter and play basketball in spring."

"So he would rather have a team of sex offenders than suffer a blow to his pride?" she scoffed.

Ellison shrugged, "We all have our priorities."

Karen's phone vibrated in her pocket.

It was a text from Foggy.

"Meet us at the diner," the text read.

Karen didn't need further encouragement. A trip to the diner sounded fantastic, and she needed to catch up with Foggy anyhow. Something told her that Marci would also be at the diner, considering his use of "us".

She bid goodbye to Ellison, promising to keep him posted. As she walked down the street towards the worn down diner, nothing could kill the sheer joy she was experiencing.

Immediately, she saw that Foggy and Marci were hugged up together, as expected, and Matt was sitting in the opposite side of the booth.

Karen greeted Elena, asked for her milkshake, and slid in next to Matt.

"Hi, Karen," they all greeted in near perfect unison.

"Why am I not surprised about this?" Karen gestured to Foggy and Marci cuddled up together.

"Hush," Foggy smiled, "We're happy."

"So does this have anything to do with Prom being tomorrow?" Karen wagged an eyebrow.

"Completely unrelated," Foggy claimed.

"Are you two going together?" Marci gestured to Karen and Matt, making the room feel twice as awkward.

"I can't come," Matt instantly grimaced, knowing Marci would flip out.

"Why not?!"

"It's Elektra's last weekend in town, and I wanted to be civil and try to leave things on good terms," he nodded.

Karen smiled at him, "Say hey to her for me."

Matt nodded, looking satisfied and balanced. He seemed like he was more in control of himself now.

"What about you, Karen?" Marci asked.

"I already have a date," Karen stated simply.

Marci's head turned so fast she nearly snapped her neck.

"WHO?! Is it Brett? I always saw something there, I called it," she claimed, "Didn't I call it, Foggy?"

"It's Frank."

Marci and Foggy gasped in unison. Karen had to fight the urge to roll her eyes.

"Why- Karen why are you doing that?"

"Well," Karen began, "He saved my life a couple weeks ago, remember when I had an allergic reaction to my meds and he drove me to the emergency room?" Karen asked.

"What?! You never said anything about that?" Foggy nearly shouted.

"You never asked," Karen sipped her coffee smugly. "And at the baseball game, he was distracting you, Foggy, so you and Marci wouldn't see each other and fight," Karen explained.

"That's why he kept talking about why they serve cracker jacks at baseball games," Foggy muttered under his breath.

"At the party, while you two were getting plastered, Frank beat up Vlad after I got punched," Karen continued.

"That was-," Foggy sounded perplexed, "Oh."

"And Monday, when the football team swarmed my house, Frank tried to fight them all, with Matt's help, of course," she gently nudged Matt's elbow.

Marci and Foggy were momentarily speechless.

"I mean, I'll admit, after I read the article, I could see how he's not completely evil," Marci finally digressed.

"I approve of him," Matt smiled at Karen.

"Really?" Karen smirked, her eyebrows raising.

"He proved me wrong," Matt nodded, "He really cares about you."

"Yeah," Karen blushed, looking away, "He does."

Marci and Foggy were incredibly uncomfortable and very eager to change the subject.

Karen decided to let them off the hook and change the subject herself.

"So I got a scholarship for the article, NYU, it'll cover tuition," she told them awkwardly, not wanting to brag too hard.

"Cheers!" they yelled together, clinking coffee cups.

"Have you all picked your colleges yet?" Karen asked, trying to shift the attention from herself.

"Columbia," Foggy grinned smugly, looking over at Marci, who had picked the same college months ago.

"Same," Matt smiled.

"We'll all be in the same city," Karen smiled at them.

"It's best this way," Matt sighed, "All of us together."

The happiness in the room was absolutely infectious. They all felt so grateful for each other in that moment.

"I have a copy of my article for next week's paper, we won't be there to get the publication of course, but here it is," Karen pulled the paper out of her bag to show Foggy and Marci.

It was her final headliner: "How to Find Acceptance, Redemption, and Understanding in High School". It was a team effort, with Trish's extensive advice work taking the lead. The newspaper team combined personal anecdotes, heartfelt advice, and general encouragement for the underclassmen they would leave behind. Karen used the article to thank her friends, old and new.

"It's probably not the best we've ever done," Karen admitted, "But for a last piece, I'm mostly pleas-,"

When she looked up, Foggy and Marci were crying.

"I'm sorry I've been awful to you," Foggy blurted, "I've been so inconsiderate, and I never even ask how you are," he shook his head.

"I'm so selfish," Marci grabbed Karen's hands across the table, "Frank is smoking hot and I'm jealous of how perfect you look together," she admitted between sobs.

"Wait, what?" Foggy questioned Marci quietly.

"I'm so grateful for you two," Karen smiled at them, ignoring Foggy's question, "I really mean it."

Marci and Foggy smiled at each other lightly, feeling relieved as they wiped their eyes.

Karen turned to Matt, "Can I read it to you?" she asked gently.

"Will it make me cry?" Matt smiled at her.

"Probably," she admitted, laughing lightly.

"Go ahead, then," he nodded at her.

As he listened to her confident voice, Matt was feeling incredibly proud of Karen Page, the new girl they all took under their wing.

Chapter Text

It was prom night at Midtown High, and Karen was sitting on her bed, full of nerves, smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress.

Frank was changing in her bathroom, putting on a tuxedo that had been fitted last minute. They were both crossing their fingers it would fit well enough.

Finally, the door opened.

"Does it fit?" Frank asked nervously as he walked out of the bathroom.

The tux fit him exceptionally. So well, in fact, that Karen could barely look at him without blushing.

"Uh, yes," Karen managed, trying not to look at him too hard.

"I feel like it's too tight," Frank grimaced.

"It's not too tight," Karen laughed at how nervous he was, "It looks great."

"Maybe I'm just nervous," Frank admitted, shifting on his feet.

"It's going to be a great night," she promised him, "The dance itself will be utter bullshit, but we'll have a blast."

"If you say so," Frank muttered, starting to go cranky.

"I'm ready," she told him, grabbing her shoes and motioning him through the door.

They closed Karen's bedroom door as quietly as possible, then made their retreat down the hallway.

"Okay, remember, we have to be completely quiet," Karen whispered as she turned to Frank.

Frank nodded, smiling slightly at her.

They creeped down the steps, trying to be as quiet as possible.

As they reached the bottom landing, Karen thought they might just make it to the door without being caught.

"Did you think you could actually leave without me taking your picture?" Kevin shouted from the living room.

"Shit," Karen groaned. Her plan was destroyed.

"Hi, Kevin," Frank greeted casually, pretending they weren't trying to avoid him.

"You are rotten, Karen," Kevin tsked, "Now get in the yard so I can get your picture," he shooed them out the door.

Karen knew they were in for a solid twenty minutes of Kevin oohing and ahhing and taking every picture he could. So she complied to some degree, knowing he was only being a caring brother.

"Now you stand here," Kevin directed Frank, posing him in front of the oak tree in their yard. "And Karen, pose like this," Kevin demonstrated, throwing himself on Frank.

"I'm just going to stand like this," she pushed him away, standing next to Frank casually.

Kevin walked back into position to take their picture.

"Act like you like each other," he yelled, "Smile!"

Karen was blushing, hard. Frank was fidgeting badly as well.

"Now do a silly one," Kevin shouted.

They were saved by Foggy and Marci, who pulled up to the driveway and honked the car horn sharply.

"We're leaving," Karen announced to Kevin in relief, smiling up at Frank.

Kevin looked disappointed, but he wasn't going to keep them, "Love you," he shouted and waved.

"Love you, too," Karen mumbled back, smiling to herself as they walked to Foggy's car.

"Be good!" he shouted after them.

"Okay!"

"No drinking!"

"We won't!"

"No fighting!"

"We promise!"

Karen and Frank shuffled into the backseat of Foggy's SUV, both taking a deep breath before the drama of the evening began.

"Hi, guys," Foggy greeted them, sounding a little bit fake. Karen appreciated his attempt at being welcoming in any case.

"You look so beautiful, Karen!" Marci almost squealed.

"Thanks, you do too," Karen shyly replied, looking downwards and blushing hard.

"Are you guys excited?" Marci asked, nearly bouncing in her seat.

"Yeah, we're pretty pumped," Karen laughed, "Kevin made us take 40 pictures."

"We're only like 3 and a half minutes late," Marci gently told them, trying to calm her own nerves.

"It'll be fine, Marci," Foggy promised, taking her hand as he turned the wheel.

They drove the short distance to the school in an expectant silence, all four of them extremely excited and slightly nervous for the night ahead.

As they parked outside of the gym, Foggy and Marci were in a race to get inside, both unbuckling their seat belts and slamming their doors in record time.

"They'll be out of punch soon!" Foggy shouted as they nearly ran for the gymnasium doors.

Karen and Frank were taking their time, slowly moving down the sidewalk, past the soft lanterns set along the path.

As they reached the doors, both of them stopped in their tracks.

"Ready?" Karen asked him, looking up for confirmation.

"Might as well be," Frank smirked.

They stepped into the gymnasium, and were immediately taken aback by how beautiful the gym looked.

The ceiling was layered with thousands of lights, strung from each corner of the room, hanging low in the center of the gymnasium and framing everyone's shining faces.

As they both lowered their eyes from the magnificent lighting, they realized that everyone had turned to look at them.

Karen grabbed Frank's hand.

Hundreds of faces were looking at Karen and Frank, from every corner of the room.

And they were all smiling.

Karen was beaming as she looked up at Frank.

"People like you now," she whispered to him, tightening her grip on his hand. Since the article, everyone looked at Frank a little differently.

Frank smiled down at her, "Do you wanna dance?"

He didn't wait for her reply. She was whisked away to the center of the room, where couples were slow dancing together.

Karen placed her hands on his shoulders lightly, not knowing exactly what to do. She'd seen people dance before, and she thought she would know how to dance.

Frank's hands rested gently on her waist, and she felt her stomach roll every time they moved.

Karen was too flushed to look him in the eye, so she distracted herself by scanning the room and looking at other couples.

Claire and Luke were huddled up in a corner, a safe distance between them. They both looked so happy and content together, it warmed Karen's heart.

Melvin and Betsy were slow dancing beside them, Melvin looking redder than a beet.

Foggy and Marci were swaying from side to side by the punch bowl.

Karen had made it through two songs without moving her feet much, but as soon the pace started to pick up, she was completely lost.

She stepped on Frank's foot, hard.

Frank was too polite to react and embarrass her further.

"I-I've never danced before," Karen admitted, stammering slightly.

"Never?" Frank was appalled, staring at her with his mouth wide.

"What? Have you?"

"Military Balls, duh," he teased her.

"Oh," Karen coughed, feeling slightly mortified.

Frank started to feel bad for dragging her to the dance floor, he had just assumed she wanted to dance like he did. She was embarrassed, and he didn't want her to spend the night that way.

"If you don't like dancing," Frank started to smile, "We could go somewhere else."

Karen's heart rate started to rise, "Where would we go?"

Frank smiled and looked away from her, "Do you remember, when we were at the diner, that first time, you told me about this place, just a few minutes down the road?"

"The ice cream place," she smiled in recognition.

"It's just a thought," he shrugged, not wanting to pressure her.

"Let's go then," Karen grinned.

"Really?" he started to smirk.

"Why not?" she shrugged.

"Are you sure? We just got here?" he looked around.

"I just wanted to hang out with you," she told him honestly, "I don't care where we go."

Frank immediately grabbed Karen's hand and pulled her through the crowd, slowly moving past each couple. She was giggling as they dodged students and nearly spilled a kid's punch.

"How will we get past the chaperones?" she asked him as they reached the edge of the main room.

Frank turned towards her, "Take off your shoes."

Karen complied, holding on to Frank for balance as she stepped out of her heels.

"We have to be silent," he warned her as they snuck into the locker room.

Karen held her breath as they quickly moved behind a row of lockers to hide.

"Shush," Frank pulled Karen behind him as a chaperone walked by.

As soon as the teacher had passed, they made their break for it.

Karen picked up the skirt of her dress and started to run for the door.

Frank yelled at her to watch for the steps, and they both escaped the building unseen and unheard, safe and sound.

"We did it," she grinned.

"Shh," Frank put his hand over her mouth, pulling her close.

A door unlatched.

"Get back in here!" a deep voice shouted at them.

"Run!" Karen shouted, starting down the sidewalk towards Bluebell Street.

Frank followed her down the road, his feet pounding the pavement behind her.

Her hair had fallen from its bun and her dress was billowing behind her like a parachute, making her feel like she could fly. It was so exhilarating, running for their lives through the empty street.

As they reached Frank's house, she was out of breath and relieved to be done running.

"I think that was Mr. Fisk," Karen laughed, hands on her hips and out of breath.

"The principal?!" Frank shouted.

"Yeah," Karen laughed as Frank opened up the garage door.

"Okay," he opened the car door for her, "Let me get the keys, just a second," he called back as he ran inside the house.

Karen smiled and climbed into the cab of the truck, her heart still racing.

Frank poked his head out the door a moment later, keys in hand.

"Can Max come?"

Karen laughed, "Of course he can."

They piled in the truck together, Max sitting patiently between them. Karen played with him gently, praising him for being "such a good baby boy".

The sun was past setting as they drove down the highway. The sky had taken on a soft purple tone, and stars were barely becoming visible above their heads.

Karen felt so peaceful and serene, with the wind whipping at her hair and Frank humming beside her.

It was perfect.

"What?" he smirked at her, catching her staring at him.

"Nothing," she smiled to herself, looking away.

They pulled up to the ice cream stand and parked near the grass

Frank carried Max as they stepped out of the truck.

"Stay here," Frank instructed Max as he placed him in the bed of the truck with the back gate up, "Be a good boy."

Karen smiled at Max as he complained, "We'll be back, buddy."

They walked up to the window, both suffering from a case of the giggles. Getting ice cream dressed like they were made for a hilarious sight.

"Hi, what can I get you?" the worker at the window asked, looking a little distracted by their attire.

"Can I have a pistachio cone?" Karen asked gently, holding her hands behind her back.

Frank stepped up to the window after her, "And a chocolate cone, please."

They waited by the window for their ice cream, both avoiding looking at each other. Frank leaned against the building, so close to Karen she could barely stand it.

They met eyes for a moment, and Karen was certain there was something there, deep in his eyes. There was some similarity in there, however deep.

"Your ice cream's ready."

They nearly jumped. Frank stood straight and coughed, walking to the window to pay.

"Thank you, ma'am," he took the ice cream and handed Karen's cone to her.

"Thank you, sir," Karen teased.

"Hush," he retorted as they walked slowly back to the truck.

The sky had gone fully black, and the stars were brilliant above them.

"Oh my God," Karen pointed up, "Look how clear it is."

Frank looked up at the sky, his eyes full of wonder.

"I have a blanket," he told her, motioning to the back of the truck, "We can watch?"

Frank spread the blanket out over the bed of his truck, holding Max back from licking him. Karen climbed in after him, and they propped themselves up against the cab of the truck.

They sat together, dressed to the nines, in the back of Frank's pick up truck, slowly eating their ice cream and gazing in wonder at the stars.

"Marci's gonna be upset we ditched," Karen smiled as she licked her cone.

"She doesn't seem to hold grudges long," Frank commented, leaning back.

"They're so annoying in the summer, Frank, you have no idea," she groaned, "It's twice as dramatic as the school year."

Frank laughed, "How do they manage that?"

"Matt's birthday is in June, and according to Marci, Foggy always gets Matt something nicer for his birthday than for hers."

"Seriously?"

"I've only seen it happen once," Karen admitted, "But that gold watch beat the crap out of the 4 dollar earrings Foggy bought Marci, and Matt couldn't even SEE his present!"

Frank threw his head back in laughter. Karen couldn't help but notice how magical his laugh was, and how wonderful it felt to make him laugh.

"What are you doing this summer?" Karen finally asked, wanting to get the question off her chest.

"I turn 18 in August," he told her, a grim smile on his lips.

Karen's head immediately went to party preparation, until she realized what he was implying.

"Then you're joining the service?" she asked him quietly, a little afraid of his answer.

He nodded slowly, "Yep, it's all planned out," he sounded very confident in the plan.

Karen's stomach rolled at the thought of him in the military, but she pushed the thought away and decided to live in the moment.

"So, we've got all summer?" she focused on the positive.

"Yeah," he smirked, "You can show me all the wonders of Vermont."

Karen laughed, "Aren't you glad you came here?"

"What do you mean?" he turned to her, starting to eat his cone.

"It's not been all that bad, has it? I know your uncle's strict, and you've gotten beat up pretty regularly, but there have been good parts of this place, right?"

"It hasn't been all bad," he admitted, smirking lightly, "I liked the debate, your friends are kind of asses, but they're fun to watch, the baseball game was nice; and I liked it when I crashed on your couch and you kept replacing my ice packs," he listed.

"Oh my God," she grinned, barely able to stop herself, "Kevin thought you were dead."

Frank inhaled sharply, mustering up courage before he turned to look her in the eyes.

"You've been the best part of coming here."

That was all it took.

Karen dropped her ice cream cone.

She grabbed Frank's face with both hands.

Karen kissed him with everything she had.

Frank had been waiting for this, immediately grabbing her waist and pulling her close. He smiled against her lips, barely able to believe someone like Karen could feel this way about him.

It was like something shifted, or something clicked; like all of the stress Karen had ever experienced just melted away. She gripped onto the front of his shirt and pulled him as close as she could.

Max wanted in on the excitement. He jumped up and started licking Frank's face.

"Get down, Max," Frank pushed the dog off.

They pulled away from each other, both blushing and grinning like eight year olds.

"Oh my God," Karen exhaled, "I feel so much better now."

Frank laughed, "Were you waiting to do that?"

"You have no idea," she grinned at him, "I thought you would try, but then I just gave up on you."

"I was about to, but then our ice cream was ready," he admitted.

Karen couldn't keep the ridiculous smile off of her face. She could hardly remember feeling so overjoyed before.

"Okay," she sat up, folding her legs beneath her, "If we have all summer to spend together, you're going to have to teach me how to cook."

"And to dance," Frank laughed, holding her hand.

Karen grinned, "You can come over every day,"

"Will Kevin be okay with that?"

"Kevin likes you even more than I do," Karen scoffed, "He'll love it."

"Okay, then," he grinned, looking more relaxed and comfortable.

Karen put her head on his chest and listened to the rise and the fall of his breath. They stayed that way, in the bed of the truck, looking up at the stars and airplanes lighting the sky.

"You kiss better than Grotto."

"Oh my God."

Frank's chest rumbled as he laughed, and Karen giggled as Max came over and jumped up in their faces.

They looked over at each other, so much happiness in their eyes, and they both knew, this would be the best summer of their lives.