daredevilkink | Daredevil Prompt Post #11

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I should be working on my on going fic right now but I couldn't pass this one up. This ended up not really being as close to the prompt as it could have been and I'm really sorry about that. I did manage to get Matt in there, though.

Also, I literally just finished The Cell today so there are some elements of that storyline mixed in because I have poor self control.

Equilibrium

It’s not PTSD.

The quacks and the shrinks can throw that diagnosis around all they want. They’ll blame the war because it’s easy to write off a soldier as a trauma victim. They’ll say that it’s natural to suffer from depression and directionless anger after the horrors he’s witnessed. Maria makes him attend group meetings for veterans also struggling to cope. The men and the women there, hands shaking, sometimes with tears on their cheeks, describe how the war has stained their nightmares like blood stains the earth.

Frank dreams in red, too, just like them. The sleepless nights stack higher and higher and Maria doesn’t smile at him anymore.

He knows the taste of a gun, just like them. But it’s not PTSD.

He drinks and he drinks and he doesn’t go home again because home is where the heart is and his heart is six feet deep. He rents a shithole apartment and sits for hours staring at the gun on his nightstand. Sometimes he picks it up when he wants to feel the weight of it in his hands. Some nights are spent with the muzzle resting comfortably between his teeth until he can decide what’s more important: death or revenge.

He asks God why he survived. Why his children, so young and pure, are dead while he’s been left behind. If it’s some kind of sick joke -- because he’s not laughing -- but God doesn’t answer.

Later, Frank will understand why.

Bodies pile up and it does nothing to alleviate the rage burning in his chest. He starts going by the Punisher because someone needs to clean the streets of filth and Frank Castle is a dead man. Soon enough the Devil finds him, preaching about redemption, but some people aren’t meant for paradise. Frank begins making it a point to lay low on the nights that red haunts his shadow.

Those are the nights that the choice between death and revenge become much more difficult. When he can do nothing but hear his heart beating in his ears while Lisa’s beats its last in his arms and he can’t keep her guts in her body, his hands are shaking so badly. Maria looks up at him with agony and terror on her too pale face and there’s blood in his eyes and his boy has been splattered across the grass.

He finds relief in the cold comfort of his knife when it presses hard under his jaw. His fingers fall steady on the handle and he breathes in and out until the smell of blood is his own and all he can see is the faded white paint chipping from the walls.

He only feels grim satisfaction as guilty blood pools at his feet and the Drago’s are silenced for good. His family is avenged. His mission is over. His is a legacy soaked in blood, but the Castle family is finally free to find peace, and now he stands in the ruins of his war. Frank takes extra care to crush Gaucci’s skull beneath his boot when he steps over the body and seats himself on the Godfather’s leather throne. Nothing to do now but wait for the end and Frank’s good at waiting.

After a while he hears guards storming down the halls, hears them yelling orders at each other and banging their riot shields. He closes his eyes and thinks of dismantling and reassembling an M16; of watching his children play; of gutting mob thugs; of Maria’s smile. She’s going to a place far beyond his reach but that’s okay because he’s getting what he’s deserved for a long time. Two guards reach the cell at last and point their guns at him.

Frank knows the taste of a gun. He waits.

Before either of them can get off a shot, there’s a flash of red and suddenly Daredevil is standing in front of him. The two guards lay unconscious at his feet like worshippers bowing to an idol and he’s saying something but Frank can’t hear him. Doesn’t want to. He stands up and makes to leave the cell.

“Frank,” Daredevil says and grabs Frank’s arm as he walks past him. He sounds troubled but Frank doesn’t bother acknowledging it, just shoulders his way past the hero and out of the cell.

Some battles never end.

this was heartbreakingly and amazingly in-character. i love this.

Ugh, beautiful

Prompt OP: Love it. Thank you.

OUCH MY FEELS

Daredevil Prompt Post #11

Re: Frank and Suicide (Fill)

Re: Frank and Suicide (Fill)

Re: Frank and Suicide (Fill)

Re: Frank and Suicide (Fill)

Re: Frank and Suicide (Fill)