Maybe he even would’ve done it, if the events his return sparked off hadn’t ended with him once again in the hospital basement. Nor nearly as badly injured this time, and only for a couple of days, but that was long enough for an angry Karen to show up with Matt in tow once again.
“Let me guess,” she said. “You were hoping I’d forget about you, or get mad and reject you if you came back. Just for that, I forbid you to get another apartment, since I’m pretty sure your lease was up last month. You’re living with us from now on.”
Frank Castle was becoming aware that when Karen Page gave him that kind of interdiction, her word was law.
All the same, the first morning back in the apartment, well, it was like being back from deployment. The bed being so big and soft didn’t exactly help. He’d slept in, and both Matt and Karen had needed to go to work, so he was left alone. He wasn’t sure what he ate for breakfast, or how long he paced around the place afterwards, feeling the need to go somewhere, be anywhere but within these too familiar walls. But he wasn’t sure where he wanted to go. Curtis was busy that morning, and there was no one else he was willing to inflict himself on when he was in this state.
When he opened the closet, it was it was with the thought of grabbing his coat anyway. It wasn’t even in there; he’d forgotten that he hadn’t hung it where he’d always hung it before he’d left.
He was brought up short by the sight of two boxes at the closet’s bottom. He’d left them in his apartment when he’d run. Getting them out would’ve run too much risk of being identified, and he hadn’t judged anything in them worth it. It might have been less risky a retrieval for Matt, if his superhero buddies had helped him out, but Frank didn’t know if they would’ve.
On top of them had been placed the photo of his family, in a new protective sheet. They were lucky to have gotten it out of the van intact; the photo of Karen and Matt hadn’t survived. Under it was a sheet of notebook paper, on which were scribbled numbers in Karen’s handwriting. When Frank looked at them closer, he realized they were measurements, for potentially having the photo reframed.
Several emotions hit him hard at once, not least the cross thoughts that she should’ve asked, especially as he became aware that once that photo was put in one of her frames, it became part of this household; this became the new place all four of them belonged to. But finding it there, on top of his boxes, thinking of her keeping them all these months, Frank was so overwhelmed by feeling he fell to his knees.
He was still there, still trying to get his bearings, still feeling too trapped in his skin, when the door opening caused him to leap up, before Matt called, “Frank?”
“In here,” he called, though he knew Matt knew where he was. “I’m all right.”
“Sorry, but you don’t entirely sound it,” said Matt as he came in. “I just came up here to check on you-Foggy’s downstairs-you found the boxes? I…I hope you don’t mind that…that we…”
“Kept the evidence hidden,” said Frank. “Probably for the better. We should probably disperse everything throughout the apartment. At least the photo’s safe for people to see. Nobody will know who they are.”
“She…she would’ve asked, before she framed it,” said Matt. “She made that very clear to me. Was making a point, about asking first. She’ll probably make it to you too.”
“Yeah,” Frank agreed, “that makes sense.”
“Hey,” Matt very gingerly reached out. His hand only brushed Frank’s arm, but he felt the warmth from it like he had Matt’s enhanced heat-sense. “You don’t have to agree to anything. She’ll be mad, but she’ll understand in the end.”
Frank needed his head clear, but that helped. “I know,” he said. “Thanks.”
Fill: Even If We're Just Dancing in the Dark 9/?
“Let me guess,” she said. “You were hoping I’d forget about you, or get mad and reject you if you came back. Just for that, I forbid you to get another apartment, since I’m pretty sure your lease was up last month. You’re living with us from now on.”
Frank Castle was becoming aware that when Karen Page gave him that kind of interdiction, her word was law.
All the same, the first morning back in the apartment, well, it was like being back from deployment. The bed being so big and soft didn’t exactly help. He’d slept in, and both Matt and Karen had needed to go to work, so he was left alone. He wasn’t sure what he ate for breakfast, or how long he paced around the place afterwards, feeling the need to go somewhere, be anywhere but within these too familiar walls. But he wasn’t sure where he wanted to go. Curtis was busy that morning, and there was no one else he was willing to inflict himself on when he was in this state.
When he opened the closet, it was it was with the thought of grabbing his coat anyway. It wasn’t even in there; he’d forgotten that he hadn’t hung it where he’d always hung it before he’d left.
He was brought up short by the sight of two boxes at the closet’s bottom. He’d left them in his apartment when he’d run. Getting them out would’ve run too much risk of being identified, and he hadn’t judged anything in them worth it. It might have been less risky a retrieval for Matt, if his superhero buddies had helped him out, but Frank didn’t know if they would’ve.
On top of them had been placed the photo of his family, in a new protective sheet. They were lucky to have gotten it out of the van intact; the photo of Karen and Matt hadn’t survived. Under it was a sheet of notebook paper, on which were scribbled numbers in Karen’s handwriting. When Frank looked at them closer, he realized they were measurements, for potentially having the photo reframed.
Several emotions hit him hard at once, not least the cross thoughts that she should’ve asked, especially as he became aware that once that photo was put in one of her frames, it became part of this household; this became the new place all four of them belonged to. But finding it there, on top of his boxes, thinking of her keeping them all these months, Frank was so overwhelmed by feeling he fell to his knees.
He was still there, still trying to get his bearings, still feeling too trapped in his skin, when the door opening caused him to leap up, before Matt called, “Frank?”
“In here,” he called, though he knew Matt knew where he was. “I’m all right.”
“Sorry, but you don’t entirely sound it,” said Matt as he came in. “I just came up here to check on you-Foggy’s downstairs-you found the boxes? I…I hope you don’t mind that…that we…”
“Kept the evidence hidden,” said Frank. “Probably for the better. We should probably disperse everything throughout the apartment. At least the photo’s safe for people to see. Nobody will know who they are.”
“She…she would’ve asked, before she framed it,” said Matt. “She made that very clear to me. Was making a point, about asking first. She’ll probably make it to you too.”
“Yeah,” Frank agreed, “that makes sense.”
“Hey,” Matt very gingerly reached out. His hand only brushed Frank’s arm, but he felt the warmth from it like he had Matt’s enhanced heat-sense. “You don’t have to agree to anything. She’ll be mad, but she’ll understand in the end.”
Frank needed his head clear, but that helped. “I know,” he said. “Thanks.”