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Summary:

“Do you see what's happening?“ Matt said, almost in a whisper. "I can't talk about Frank without thinking that you're on his side. That you support him."

”But that's not true,“ she replied, also in a whisper.

”I know, it's just... It's hard to ignore that when... When...“

”When what?”

 

 

or difficult recruitment of the Punisher into the ranks of the Daredevil's army.

Notes:

Timeline: It happens before Punisher Special Presentation and provide explanation on where does Frank disappears from the majority of the narrative. This part happens in April 18th 2027.

Also there's a quick missing scene of Matt's bath in a East River, where he got on a ferry filled with explosives, and the same scene where Karen confronts Fisk and AVTF, so there's a lot of things going on.

Also, check out fan-art inspired by the first few lines by spaceshuba and previous part of the series that expand the story behind black Daredevil suit.

Work Text:

Frank Castle has a very crude sense of humor—he either mocks himself or his interlocutor. Sometimes he felt like lightening the mood, but not always with the right people and not always at the right moment. He couldn't pass up the chance to mock the big letters D on Daredevil's black suit when a news story about it appeared.

“Actually, I painted it,” Karen interrupted. 

That's how Karen Page discovered her superpower: making Frank Castle shut up. Stunned, the Punisher spent a few more seconds thinking about he had just inadvertently mocked something Karen had done, before reaching for the bottle of painkillers again and popping a couple of pills into his mouth, because his head was still throbbing from the excessive flow of shameful thoughts. 

 

Matt Murdock couldn't hold back his laughter. When he came in with a pained expression, on the verge of breakdown with a futile attempt at apathy, full of dark emotions, Frank felt sympathy. But from the moment Karen Page returned to New York, Matt Murdock seemed to shine — a silly grin almost never left his face, he spoke quietly, without bitterness, his sarcasm became harmless, almost tender, and this Matt Murdock only aroused envy. How could it be otherwise, when he was allowed to be content with her, her warm touch and intermittent whispers? What was even worse was that she herself allowed him to be content with her, and she herself seemed to be especially gentle around him. Not the Karen Frank had seen before. He had seen her in many different shapes — frightened, desperate, upset, lost, sympathetic, angry, stubborn, strict, determined, and brave. But never before had Frank seen her... happy? That was why he was jealous, because he was not the reason for this Karen's mood. 

When Frank escaped from captivity, broke away from his pursuers, and returned to his hideout, the first thing he did was call Karen. He wanted her to come alone, but instead, she brought Matt Murdock with her. It wasn't surprising, but it was still upsetting to be forced to be the third wheel. Matt Murdock had spent too much time with Karen Page. Frank Castle had spent only a few minutes over the course of years. He didn't even understand what he was jealous of. He and Karen had so little in common, and one day he realized that he knew nothing about her at all. Frank had fallen for her empathy and charm and now couldn't escape it, thinking about it every time she appeared on the horizon. 

His head understood everything, but his heart still resisted one simple fact: in any universe, Karen Page would stay with Matt Murdock and never choose Frank Castle. Because Daredevil was more than a friend to her. He was her personal Guardian Devil, and she was his personal Guardian Angel, in every possible sense, and in such circumstances, with martial law and persecution by the Task Force, she would never leave her refuge without Matt, not for her own safety, but for his. They complemented each other, balancing the scales of their light and dark. Frank Castle would be an additional burden on the scales of darkness.

 

Karen was not aware of all the nuances of Daredevil and Punisher's complicated relationship. She almost never talked about it with them, but with Frank — because he was always running away for his war, and with Matt — because he didn't want to burden her with unnecessary ideological disputes and arguments. But today she could become an observer of this complicated story, because moral debates were inevitable today. And, as embarrassing as it was to admit, she was looking forward to it. Obviously, she would have to intervene to calm the two best sworn frenemies, but for the first time in many years, she would be able to better understand what they thought of each other. A habit left over from her days as a journalist. 

On the way to Frank's hideout, Karen and Matt discussed the details of their game in a long run, gathering an army, and so on. And what they had decided, Frank obviously had to take cold, because it required the almost impossible from him — no massacre. 

 


 

“Here's the deal,” Matt began the difficult conversation formally. ”The state government is investigating the blackout and Fisk's actions, and the ACLU is working on complaints about the AVTF, so we should all lay low until things either sort themselves out or require action.”

“I'm already laying low, Red,“ Frank replied gruffly, pouring himself a cup of coffee. He no longer thought to offer anyone else a drink.

”You're not, Frank,” Matt smiled sarcastically. ”I still smell the blood of a dozen different people on your hands.”

“Wasn't it you who wanted me to deal with these fanboys?

"I wanted you to help people, not cause carnage and get into trouble."

“I already told you, I'm not interested in your cute heroic bullshit,” Frank took a sip of coffee. ”But I don't plan on sitting around like a coward either.”

“We're not asking you to sit around like a coward,” he sighed deeply. Matt covered his forehead. ”We're just asking you not to make any rash decisions for now. When we need your help, we'll contact you, but even then, no killings. No headshot, no knives across the throat. Only non-lethal injuries to neutralize or escape..."

“You still haven't answered the question, why the hell did you take a bullet for that bastard?”

 

Matt fell silent. He nodded toward Karen, knowing that she was also tormented by this question, even if she was ready to accept his actions as a given. After all, this was Matt, this was Daredevil, he wouldn't have done it any other way. It was still too early to intervene, so she just stood there with her arms crossed, watching the discussion unfold.

“Do you think it would have been better if I had let Fisk die?” Matt's voice cracked slightly.

“Well, it's certainly better than putting him behind bars like before, right?"

 

Matt put his hands on his hips, as he usually did when thinking about court cases, a posture he had become extremely rare to take. He licked his dry lips and adjusted his sunglasses on his nose.

“Funny you should ask,“ Matt's inner devil seemed to have taken control again, his voice roughened. "Because it explains exactly why we're asking you not to fuck it up."

”Oh, yeah?” “Frank raised his voice explosively, as he usually did when he was overly irritated. “And how's that?”

"You see, Frank, it's very easy for you to just kill. Put a bullet in someone's head and move on to shredding people. And what happens next is none of your concern, right?”

“The bastard is dead, there won't be any shit happening“ Castle interrupted.

”That's the point, there will be!” Murdock said with a laugh. ”Fisk's people are still in the office, the Task Force is still operating, Vanessa will do everything she can to take Fisk's propaganda to a new level...”

“Well, then kill them too, I still don't see the problem!“

”Bullseye is considered a vigilante! If Fisk dies, neither the government nor the public will question his lies anymore. They will become the truth, Frank!“

”Jesus Christ!” Frank waved him off, retreating to the far corner. 

“That would not only confirm the threat of vigilantes, but also it will leave society without most furious 'defender' against it!“

”You always like to complicate things, Red!“

”Fisk would have died a martyr!” Murdock let out a roar, and Castle, who had been diligently interrupting him, fell silent. He added quietly, “He would have died a hero. And that would have created much... Much more trouble for all of us.”

 

Frank glanced at Karen, who visibly tensed when their voices rose above a normal tone. She looked at Frank, but if just a month ago her gaze had been full of hope for him, now her gaze screamed, “Stop resisting. Matt is right.” And at the mere realization of this, Castle's blood boiled with rage. 

 

“So what does that have to do with you trying to impose your half-measures on me again?“ Frank retorted, clenching his teeth.

”If you continue to kill, whether gangsters or AVTF members, as long as Fisk is in power, he will use it to strengthen his authority.” 

“You said you wanted me to help people,” Castle shook his head from side to side, looking around his hideout as if searching for something blunt to hit Murdock's head with. ”So I'm helping. It's simple math, Red. Less bad guys, more good guys.”

“For all years you've been active, crime hasn't gone down by even one percent because of your actions,” Matt whispered viciously. "In fact, it's only gotten worse. And it's gotten more dangerous. So tell me, Frank, who did you help in the end, huh?"

 

At this point, Karen wanted to intervene. Because she had a perfect example of who Frank had helped: her. But she understood that if she gave the Punisher a reason, if there was even a hint that she was on his side, he would dig in his heels and refuse to make the concessions that were so important to ending Fisk's tyranny. So Page suppressed her desire to balance the sides of the conflict. Castle glanced at her again, his eyes wide open, expecting her to stand up for him, but he quickly realized that this would not happen.

 

“All these years, I've tried to understand and accept your methods, Frank, honestly,“ Matt said, desperately trying to convince Frank, with a painful grin. "But every time we discuss this, I become more convinced that you didn't lie in court back then."

”Meaning?”

“You love to kill, Frank. You love it so much that the very thought of sparing someone is unbearable to you,” Matt pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his head. "Thanks for not pointing a gun at my head this time, but I'm tired of putting too much hopes in you."

 

Murdock quickly headed for the exit. Karen uncrossed her arms and reached out to him with one hand, but he ignored her, threw open the door, and rushed out into the hallway. Page rolled her eyes and followed him. It was only a matter of seconds before they were alone, and Castle felt a vital need to hold her back for at least a couple of moments. Because the last time she left like this, she told him she didn't believe Frank didn't care. But now it seemed her belief in that had been shaken.

 

“That's not true,” Frank muttered, lowering his head. 

Karen stopped in the doorway, her hand on the doorframe. The weight lifted from Frank's shoulders and he almost breathed a sigh of relief. But she turned around with a sad smile on her face, a smile that said so much that no words were needed to understand what was going through her mind. 

“I really want to believe that,” she said hoarsely, her eyes glistening with tears. 

 

Karen turned completely toward Castle, still not leaving the doorway. She rolled her eyes, clicked her tongue, and slapped her thighs, unable to find a suitable gesture to complement her thought. Although the sincerity of her whirlwind of thoughts could not be denied, Page, experienced in such matters, decided to try one last time to get through to Frank. If rational arguments had not convinced him, perhaps respect for her would. She just needed to phrase it differently.

“We're working hard, Frank,” she said, lowering her head when Castle looked at her again, as if his gaze was unbearable. ”But if you don't want to help us, at least don't get in the way, okay?”

“I'm not going to sit around doing nothing, Karen,“ he said quietly, his hoarse voice velvety yet prickly. "What I do is necessary."

”Is it?” She raised an eyebrow, her face taking on its classic stern expression. 

“You doubt it?“ Castle could hardly hide his growing resentment.

”Listen, the fact that I'm able to excuse you and defend you from accusations as much as I want, doesn't mean I agree with how you... solve problems,” she adjusted her wig. ”Especially now, when it can put the whole city at risk.”

 

She turned away and left the room without even saying goodbye, ending the conversation so abruptly and unceremoniously that it felt like a knife to Frank's heart. He stood motionless, clenching his fists. So many times he had pushed her away, rejected her, and now everything had been turned upside down. Now she was leaving silently, leaving him alone with himself and unresolved feelings that were difficult to put into words. 

 


 

Karen caught up with Matt as he was standing by the elevator. Only when she caught up with him did he press the call button. After standing alone for a moment, he seemed to calm down and collect his thoughts, but he couldn't resist the temptation to eavesdrop on what Karen was saying to Frank. And Page didn't have to wonder for long whether he had heard their conversation. She cleared her throat, trying to steady her voice.

 

“Not too harsh?“ she whispered, so that the echo wouldn't suddenly reach Frank's hideout, which was unlikely, but nevertheless.

”Frank wouldn't get it any other way,“ Matt concluded, putting his hands in his jacket pockets.

”Yes, he's difficult...”

“Your makeup's running,” he noticed, pulling one hand out of his pocket to gently wipe away the black smudge on her cheek, hidden beneath her sunglasses, with the knuckle of his index finger. 

 

His palm clenched into a fist and his hand moved to her chin, only his thumb lingering on the mole above her upper lip. But by that moment, the elevator had already arrived, and he quickly put his hand back in his pocket, after which they entered the cabin and moved to opposite corners, seeking personal space, albeit small. The elevator rumbled slowly down from the attic of the apartment building, swaying from side to side, so that the awkward silence amid a million questions could not go unnoticed.

“You said something about a gun to your head,” Karen scratched the tip of her nose.

“Don't worry about it,“ Matt shrugged. "Shit happens"

”Did Frank threaten you?“

”Karen, I just... I don't want to talk about it.“

”No, just so you know, I'm completely on your side on this,” she waved her hands.

 

The elevator stopped, and Matt tried to rush out of it, as if he didn't know that Karen would follow him. Of course, now she wouldn't let it go that easily. Matt obviously had a strong dislike for Frank, to the point that he was probably ready to add him to the list of exceptions for those who, in his opinion, couldn't change their nature, and anyone else would have allowed themselves to speak up and pour out a bucket of shit, but Murdock avoided talking about Frank, as he always did. As if he were... protecting him? From Karen?

 

“And I appreciate that, it's just... there's nothing to discuss here,” Matt scratched his forehead again.

“Wait, wait,” she grabbed his shoulders, turned him toward her, and stopped him. “Calm down, okay?”

“I'm calm,” his face twisted into a mocking smile.

“No, Matt, you're not,” she raised her voice slightly. ”I'm sure you want to talk about it, about how Frank pisses you off and all that... It's been weighing on you for a long time, so... Let's just talk about it and it'll help us figure out this whole story.”

“But he doesn't piss you off, so why do you need to listen to all this?“

”Oh, no, he piss me off a lot it makes me shake, especially now. I'm just... more loyal to his view on things.“

”Okay, it's very simple. He's a murderer. And a psychopath.“

”He's not a psychopath, Matt...”

“Yes, he is. He doesn't just kill, he mutilates, tortures, mocks the dead, and gets immeasurable pleasure from it. I heard his heart start to beat faster with each new kill. And I...”

 

He faltered, exhaled, and stepped back.

 

“Do you see what's happening?” Matt said, almost in a whisper. “I can't talk about Frank without thinking that you're on his side. That you support him.”

“But that's not true,” she replied, also in a whisper.

“I know, it's just... It's hard to ignore that when... When...“

”When what?“

”Nevermind, really, let's forget it,” he tried to play the role of a polite lawyer. ”We have more important things to do than this.”

 


 

Frank had to be forgotten when, finding themselves on the streets of Chelsea, Matt and Karen witnessed the Anti-Vigilante Task Force arresting, as they figured out, the majority leader of the city council, Andrea Pearson, while she was peacefully dining at a Greek restaurant. As Cherry and other uncorrupted sources in the NYPD discovered, Councilwoman Pearson, as a party representative, had spoken out strongly at the last meeting against Fisk's latest actions, and she could have been an excellent source of information, as she could have confirmed that Fisk's latest initiatives had been taken under pressure during the blackout, but now it was all meaningless. A case had been fabricated against her and she was being taken to prison. Without trial or investigation. 

There was great irony in the fact that Fisk, in saving the city from vigilantes, had in fact created these very vigilantes, who arrested and beat up anyone who, in the opinion of the mayor's office, was considered a threat. The independent media had already noted this terrible hypocrisy, but the official media actively suppressed any information and debauchery that the Special Forces were engaging in. And now everything was out of control. Karen received a message on her disposable phone from BB Urich, who had been in contact with Angie Kim, and the message was urgent — first-hand news that AVTF had found a mole in the police department and uncovered the whole truth about the Daredevil's operation. Task Force was already spreading out across the city in search of those who had been named as allies of Devil of Hell's Kitchen.

Matt disappeared into the crowd at the restaurant, snuck into the staff quarters, went up to the roof, and changed into Daredevil there so he could fly to Josie's bar first thing, leaving Karen alone. But she had something to do too: she rushed to Cherry's, but she didn't know how to fly from roof to roof, so even with a taxi ride, by the time she arrived at the street where Cherry lived, it was too late.

The familiar ambulances of Sacred Saints Hospital were already loading the beaten Cherry onto a stretcher, while the Anti-Vigilante Task Force officers cackled around them. 

A little over a week passed, and everything began to fall apart.

 


 

Matt sat on the sofa in the living room, wrapped in a woolen blanket, with a cup of hot coffee on the table in front of him. TV was showing news about the largest arrest in a case involving illegal vigilante activities, where the news anchor, albeit reluctantly, praised the bravery of the Mayor of New York. Murdock was still chattering his teeth and looked gloomy. Too gloomy. 

Karen came out of the bathroom, having washed off her makeup and took of her wig, which had been smudged during the day. She let her hair down and approached the sofa, sitting down next to him.

 

“Are you sure you don't want to go to bed?” she asked. A month ago, she would have been afraid to say this, but now, seeing his condition, she saw no alternative. ”You're completely frozen. Let's cover you with another blanket, okay?”

“I'm fine,” he replied hoarsely, obviously flattering her.

 

Matt never slept in bed. Whenever he had the opportunity, he found a way to avoid talking about how he would be more comfortable on a soft bed than on a hard sofa, and fell asleep in the living room. And even after he swam in the East River in his Daredevil costume, getting soaked to the bone and risking a cold, he didn't think it necessary to go to bed, at least for now. Realizing that it was useless to persuade him, Karen just sighed and looked away. She moved a little closer, leaning her head on his shoulder, and although the blanket pricked her cheeks, it did not cause her much discomfort.

Fisk was one step ahead again. As usual. That didn't mean he had won. It was always his rash step forward that separated him from failure. The governor had apparently been either intimidated or bribed, so the investigation was closed that same evening. Tomorrow she was supposed to make a new statement, and it was no secret that it would contain the standard apologies for not trusting the city government enough. Martial law would be firmly established, and the identities of those arrested would be kept secret, and God knows what would happen to them in prison.

 

Josie managed to escape thanks to Daredevil's intervention, but the others were much less fortunate: Cherry was in the hospital, Kim was out of contact, BB was silent, and other allies had also disappeared from view, apparently having been arrested. The news reported about “conspirators” among the NYPD, so it would not be surprising if all their comrades ended up on that list. 

But for Matt, the worst thing was that Soledad Ayala, Hector's wife, was named among the conspirators. Just a couple of days ago, he had contacted the Ayala family through Cherry: Angela just left from the hospital after intensive treatment and was ready to return to school. And given her lively character and the fact that she was the one who spread the news of Daredevil's return during the interrogations, there was a very high risk that the Anti-Vigilante Task Force had taken her away too. Brave and reckless, desperate and thirsty for justice, but still just a girl. Small and fragile, completely unprepared for the hardships that fate had in store for her. Matt was on the verge of breakdown.

When he took a deep breath, as he usually did when he was holding back his anger, as he usually did when he was about to throw punches, Karen broke the distance and gently hugged him, cold and still wet, embittered and bristling like a wild animal. She wasn't sure it would help, but it was something. She didn't say anything, but she didn't need to. Her hands, stroking his shoulders, said it all: “I believe in you. We'll get through this.” 

 


 

Suddenly, the burner phone rang. Karen timidly loosened her embrace, fearing that he would break free and run out of the apartment, so she kept her eyes on him and didn't let him out of her sight, even when her fingers couldn't find the right button to answer the call on the first try. Page put the phone to her ear, and the voice on the other end made both Matt and Karen jump.

 

“Hey,” Frank's hoarse voice came through. “I guess things have gone downhill pretty quickly.”

“What do you want, Frank?“ Karen decided to keep her tone cold.

”I've been thinking about our conversation earlier,” he drawled, trying to find the right words. ”I... I agree.”

“Wait, what?” Page couldn't help but perk up, and she suddenly looked away from Matt, who had turned his head toward her, listening intently to the phone conversation.

 

“I'm saying, okay, I won't stick my neck out, and I won't stir up trouble,“ Frank was clearly annoyed as he said this. "I get that now should be the moment when you pull me into action."

”I mean, we could drive over and...”

“Don't bother,“ he smiled. "The fanboys tracked down my place. They ransacked it, but don't panic, I got out of there before I had to put a bullet in each of them."

”Where are you now, Frank?” Karen ran her hands through her hair.

“Let's just say I had somewhere to go,“ Castle coughed. "Anyway, I don't think you should go out for the next couple of days, so I'll come to y'all myself. Just tell me which neighborhood and put our old sign in the window, okay?"

”Okay, I... We'll be waiting then.“ 

”Talk to you soon.”

 

And Frank hung up. Karen quickly put the phone aside and looked back at Matt, who was listening intently to something. He usually hid it well, but now he was shamelessly eavesdropping on her heartbeat.

“Old sign, huh?” he asked hoarsely.

“Don't worry about it,” Karen muttered, almost frightened. ”Shit happens”

 


 

The next morning, there was a knock at the door. Matt threw a blanket over his shoulders, put on sunglasses to cover his puffy eyes, and, coughing and sniffling, made his way through the small hallway to the door, knowing full well that his neighbor was waiting outside with fresh pastries. He was lucky with his neighbors in this regard: they were a little naive but extremely kind, and didn't ask unnecessary questions. But just in case they saw the posters around town about the missing blind lawyer Matt Murdock, he came up with a story about his twin brother Mike, who had come to town for the duration of the search, and to make sure no questions arose, he played the role of a sighted guy with a strong Irish accent and personality, which he based on his memories of Foggy Nelson from college. 

The lovely Joan was extremely shy and empathetic. She was concerned about “Mike's” health, but he convinced her that he was already on the mend. Taking advantage of her presence and helpfulness, Matt handed her some money and asked her to go to the florist for a small bouquet of white flowers — the very “old sign” that was supposed to summon Frank Castle from the depths of darkness into the world of the living. He convinced Joan to keep the change, took the tray of pastries, gave her a high five goodbye, closed the door, and returned to the living room, and with each step, the personality of the enthusiastic Mike Murdock dissolved, returning the brooding Matt Murdock.

 

An hour later, Joan returned with a modest bouquet, and Matt himself placed it on the windowsill in the bedroom, then quickly retreated back to his corner on the sofa, leaving Karen, who had been working on her laptop all this time, combing through all the articles, forums, open databases, and so on regarding the latest news, with a palpable feeling of jealousy in the air. The “old sign” between her and Frank visibly annoyed Matt, as he was still extremely irritated by Castle's behavior yesterday and his persistent feeling that something between Frank and Karen was wrong, different. Page tried to explain that it was just for the sake of secrecy and that there was nothing special about it, but she knew perfectly well that her voice, breathing, and heartbeat were betraying her cover. 

He didn't say what he planned to tell Frank, saying he was still thinking about whether to bring up the topic he had planned, but either way, it still had to do with gathering an army. They needed new allies, this time ones who weren't so easy to intimidate, arrest, or kill. Matt rummaged through old files from the "Nelson, Murdock & Page" office, looking for some papers, apparently files that were necessary for this, but Karen couldn't figure out which cases he was taking out of the boxes. Towards evening, an hour before curfew, Frank called and said he was waiting for them on the roof of an apartment building. Karen detained Matt to carefully put a warmer jacket on him, gave him a knitted hat, and covered his neck with her scarf so that he wouldn't freeze even more in the strong wind.

 

Frank stood at the edge of the roof, scanning the street to see if the Task Force officers had arrived in the neighbourhood. He adjusted his leather raincoat, then turned around, leaning against the visor.

"What's the plan, Red?”

 

Matt stepped forward, holding out a file with papers. He covered his mouth with his hands, coughing vigorously and dryly into his palm. Castle took the document almost dismissively and immediately began to read it while Murdock explained the essence of the matter. 

“I need you to find one of my clients, Maya Lopez,” Matt muttered hoarsely. ”She may be one of Fisk's main targets, besides you and me.”

“Why's that?“

”She shot him in his fat head,” Matt joked, recalling Castle's threats a month earlier. ”Knocked his eye out with a bullet, but he survived.”

 

Frank hesitated when he heard this news. Someone had already tried to beat him to the punch in killing Fisk and failed. This either meant that Murdock's client wasn't as good as most thought, or that Kingpin was a tough nut to crack, even for a bullet to the head. 

“She was his right-hand for many years and knows all the ins and outs of his business during the Blip,” Matt continued. ”She ran one of the small gangs, auction robberies, contract killings, money laundering, logistics, and all that stuff.” 

“Sounds like you need enemies, not allies,“ Frank smirked.

”A year and half ago, she blew up his shipping business. Literally blew it up. Maybe you've heard of the Black Knife Cartel.“

”Yeah, met them once.”

“So, Fisk didn't like that very much. She was last seen in Oklahoma.“

”That's a long road ahead,” Castle rolled his eyes. ”Do you have a specific deadline for delivering the girl or what?”

“Terrible choice of words,” Matt adjusted his glasses. "It's preferable to contact her as soon as possible, because I'm sure that at this pace, jurisdictions won't exist for Fisk."

"Okay, Red."

 


 

When Matt coughed again, this time violently, Karen immediately clung to him, grabbing his face with both hands and whispering for him to go to the apartment, take a pill, and lie down. She checked his temperature by pressing her forehead against his, feeling the heat from his head, stroking his cheeks very caringly, promising that she would tell Frank everything else. To finally convince him to go rest, Karen whispered a simple reminder in his ear. 

“It's just adrenaline, nothing serious, right?"

 

Matt reluctantly left Karen alone with Frank on the roof. She sighed, running her hand through her hair, watching Matt leave. When the door slammed, she turned to Frank and took a small booklet out of her bag.

“Matt forgot to mention that the girl is deaf,“ Karen said, handing him a brochure with basic phrases in sign language. "So try to practice this a little, at least, to... win her over."

”Or else?”

“Or else she'll kick your ass, Frank,“ she said and smiled involuntarily at her own joke.

 

Frank laughed hoarsely, putting his hands in his coat pockets.

 

”So what is this, are you guys putting together your own squad?” he said jokingly, remembering his army days.

“It looks that way.”

“And you're our captain, then.“

”Yes, and you just signed that I'm now your boss."

 

Again, muffled laughter rang out on the roof. An awkward pause. Karen broke the silence, poking her finger into the inside of the brochure, where a sticker with writing on it was still lying.

 

“I made a deal with a contractor, Rick Mason. Matt paid him from his savings to take us to Oklahoma, but since you agreed, we thought we'd spread our resources and focus on finding other Fisk's potential targets. Just go to this address, a private plane will be waiting for you, not expensive, just for one flight, you'll have to find your own way from Oklahoma. Tell them you are on my behalf and that the plans have changed a little."

“Karen,” Frank said suddenly, his voice velvety again, not sandpaper. "You understand that if things go wrong, I won't hesistate and... I'll do what I have to do."

 

Karen is silent. She lowers her eyes, takes a step back. Sighs. Page glanced at the door leading to the stairwell where Matt had last been.

“You saw what's happening,” she finally gathered her thoughts. “Innocent people are being sent to prison for the slightest connection to vigilantes. They even arrested a minor just because Matt saved her. So if Fisk finds out about even one murder from you since, he'll take action, and this time it will be directed at all of us."

 

Frank couldn't help but take a step forward and even stood closer, almost right next to her. Karen shrank slightly from the increased excitement, pulling her neck into her shoulders and diligently averting her eyes. But she didn't run away, which was good. She felt Frank's heavy, hot breath on her face, and his heavy gaze pierced her so that it became quite uncomfortable. 

“I'd go through hell for you,“ he whispered hoarsely. 

”Can you just... control yourself for me, okay?“ she said, almost sarcastically, sighing heavily.

”Of course, ma'am.“

”By the way, Mason is waiting for you tomorrow three hours before curfew,” she said. 

 

Karen found the strength to move her feet and head toward the stairs. She grabbed herself with both hands, wrapping herself more tightly in her coat. Opening the door, she looked back at him after all. Her throat tickled with the urgent desire to say something to him in parting, something she had said to him before, but he had never heard. She smiled softly, her eyes sparkling in the glow of the stairwell lamp. 

“Good luck, Frank."

 

Castle stood at attention, clenching his fists and looking at her with wet eyes. He shook his head again, as if dismissing some thought, and then did the same thing she had done: he said something to her that he had said before, but now so that she could hear it.

“Stay safe, Karen."

And he hurried toward the fire escape. 

 


 

Karen was going down the stairs too fast, almost tripping a couple of times. She almost ran into the apartment, but quickly noticed that Matt was already sleeping in the living room. Again, she hadn't caught him at the right moment and he had passed out on the couch. His face was distorted in obvious discomfort, he was wheezing loudly when he breathed, the blanket had fallen off him slightly. But still, like a good boy, he didn't even try to eavesdrop on her and Frank and just went to sleep. It was better this way. For him. For her.

Page caught her breath before tiptoeing over to him to adjust the blanket. She had already knelt down, level with his face, and for a long time languidly watched him suffer from a cold in his sleep. Karen stroked his head timidly, but with special tenderness, and when her palm fell on his cheek again, she could not suppress the strong desire to somehow physically indicate her concern, even if he was asleep and would never know it. She had kissed his forehead before, but now, she lingered with her lips on his hot skin, dotted with wrinkled lines. As she slowly pulled away from his face, she whispered goodnight to him and went to the bedroom.

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