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Caring, gentle fingers flock to his face. This isn’t what Frank envisioned happening the moment he steps into Matthew Murdock’s apartment, but he finds himself welcoming it nevertheless.
“What happened to you?” Matt whispers, his voice full of concern that Frank didn’t think he’d have. Dark, hazel eyes attempting to follow the direction of Frank. “I know you can handle a fight. Who did this to you?” Frank barely has the time to relish the tender touch to his cheekbone before Matt’s hands move on to his chest, running his hand down and lightly pressing on his torso.
“Jeez, Red, didn’t know you were such a handsy one.” Frank chuckles hoarsely and makes a sorry attempt at joking, earning him an unimpressed frown from the blind lawyer.
“I am serious, Frank. Someone hurt you badly, I can tell.” Red mutters, hands continue to wander with urgency. The longer they spend on Frank’s body, the more distressed the younger man appears. His brain is in overdrive, rapidly analyzing every bit of abnormality he can detect from Frank’s physiology. “Broken ribs here, trauma to the chest……lung puncture?” Matt Murdock’s expression goes blank, his fingers freezing in their path as his mind puts together the pieces.
“Frank……you nearly died a few days ago, didn’t you?”
“You can tell all that?......That's impressive, Red.” The smirk Frank wears on his face starts to fade, the facade he puts up in front of Matt now dissipating.
This part sucks. He didn’t come to make Red worry, to force that flash of fury to come out from brewing underneath thick layers of concern.
“Your posture is off. Your breathing is different from before, it’s like you are trying to not inhale too deeply, which indicates you are still in pain.” Red says quietly, his hand doesn’t leave Frank’s chest. “You have bruises……everywhere, especially on your face. I can tell where your muscle fibers were torn, blood vessels ruptured. That hole in your lung, it’s still trying to heal. These are severe injuries, Frank.” His voice grows even lower as another wave of realization dawns on him. “Is someone after you? Are you safe?” Matt grasps Frank’s arm with little strength, considerate of his injuries.
“Relax, Red, I got that taken care of already. I would never bring danger to your doorsteps.” Frank wants to reassure him, take that edge off of him, but that only seems to upset him further.
“That’s not what I am worried about! I can take care of myself.” Matt hisses. “What I am worried about is how you suddenly showed up at my doorstep with injuries bad enough to kill you and I don’t even know what happened.”
Matt is angry, and rightfully so. But what makes Frank's brain take a pause is the reason why Red is angry. He is angry because someone has hurt Frank, an emotional response that can only be explained because Frank is dear to him. His words brushes against somewhere deep inside of Frank’s heart he thought he lost forever, and he hates to admit that he has yearned for that feeling ever since he lost his family. Instead of saying anything, he just wraps his arms around Matt and holds him against his chest, despite the slightest little protests from the younger man, he doesn’t let go.
“Shh……”
“Castle!”
“I’m still here, you see, Red?” He whispers against Matt’s ear, which seems to ease his nerves instantly. “Still breathing, yeah? So don’t worry about me.”
Matt grimaces, going silent for a long time, long enough to make Frank nervous. But when he speaks again, it is with a renewed sense of determination. He places his hand on his face, where the bruises are still a deep hue of blue.
“Tell me what happened, Frank.” Red says. “I need to know.”
And Frank complies.
Matt wishes he can see. Of course, this isn’t something new. He knows the beauty of the world and he misses the days when he could see it for himself, even though his senses gave him a new way of “looking” at the world beyond imagination. But at this moment, all he wants to do is to see Frank, he needs every ounce of proof he can get that Frank truly is here with him alive and well, after all that was done to him. For the very first time, Matt feels like he couldn’t trust his heightened senses, because it almost sounds logically impossible for Frank to be alive in front of him right now.
Frank didn’t sugarcoat anything, which Matt is grateful for, because complete honesty was what he had asked for. But it does make it that much more difficult to hear exactly what Frank went through a few days prior. The torture he endured. How he was tied down and beaten so badly that he’d blacked out numerous times and awakened again, only for more pain to await. How he nearly drowned in his own blood. Just hearing about it took Matt’s breath away.
“I returned the favor ten-folds” was Frank’s way of trying to make Matt feel less horrible, which doesn’t work because he knows they have already taken the thing Frank cherished the most from him. There is no way he could possibly make this even.
“The people that did this to you, are they……” At the end, that is the only thing Matt can ask. He has a strict no kill rule for himself, believing he has no right to play the part of executioner. But after hearing the despicable acts that were done to Frank, part of Matt can’t help but to imagine a world where such horrible individuals no longer exist.
“Rawlins is gone. I made sure of that.” Frank replies quietly. “But Russo……I didn’t kill him. He will never be the same, though. Fucker’s got what he deserve.”
Matt’s chest tightens. He surmises right now Frank is probably wearing a stoic expression, not wanting to reveal just how much Billy’s betrayal hurt, but he knows that one must sting.
“I can’t stay here for long, Red. I need to get out of the city.” He feels Frank’s hand on his cheek, and he nods, concurring without a second thought.
“You need to get out, what do you need? ……Money?” Matt offers helpfully, only to be met with the biggest laugh he has ever heard from Frank.
“I think I am good, Red, charity from you? With your little pro bono work? You gonna fund my escape with chicken too?” Frank teases, his tone without bite and the sound of his chuckle genuine. Matt furrows his brows defensively, even though he can’t help but to also smile in response. “Hey, it’s good work that we are doing here, and I can afford rent, at least. I can spare a few hundred for you.”
“Which is in itself impressive in New York.” Frank plays along naturally, “But really, thanks for the offer. Lieberman got that covered for me.” Hearing that somehow relaxes Matt more than anything, because he is too used to the Frank Castle that takes on the world on his own, refusing help from anyone. It is reassuring to know that Frank is finally letting people in.
“Tomorrow first thing in the morning, I will leave.”
There is something different about Frank’s touch tonight. Matt thinks to himself hazily as the man presses his forehead against his own, his voice softer than he has ever known. Since the moment he met him, Frank Castle has always carried the scent of rage and hatred and violence with him. Yet tonight, despite his extensive injuries and the smell of blood still lingering on him, it feels like……he’s finally letting go. Letting go of the burden he forces himself to carry.
“Just for tonight, let me have this, yeah? Can you let me do that, Red?”
Matt closes his eyes and kisses Frank his answer.
They lie in Red’s bed together, limbs intertwined, silk bed sheets against Frank’s back. They don’t talk, but the silence feels comfortable. Red doesn’t ask him more questions, instead opting to resume tracing his fingers on Frank’s healing body.
For the past couple months, pain became the only thing Frank was familiar with. The beatings, the interrogations, throwing himself at a horde of enemies over and over again and unleashing his rage, physical touch has been associated with pain for him. But now the pain has been replaced with Matt’s touch. Delicate. Gentle. A touch that radiates comfort. Frank knows Matt wouldn’t hurt him.
Matt’s eyes are closed, and Frank can see his long eyelashes flutter, his expression focused and determined. He knows at this exact moment, Matt is still listening to him, probably trying to figure out if there is anything else he needs to be concerned about. The kid sure loves to worry himself sick.
He is reminded of how Red’s abilities work—he doesn’t just get these sensory feedback automatically, he has to concentrate. Which means even before he opened that door to his apartment, Red heard him and immediately knew something was wrong. He worried for Frank before he even showed his face.
Sometimes he wonders how Matt is able to do this, the way he fights against his darkness every day while keeping his heart open. He experienced some of the worst in humanity yet remains hopeful in a better future. Even when they were standing on opposite sides of a conflict, Red still cared for him in a way that didn’t make sense and wouldn’t allow him to throw his life away. That night at the graveyard, Frank truly was ready to join his family. But Red wouldn’t have it. It is all because of him that he is still here today. No matter how much Red laments over his own sins, with his Catholic guilt and all, to Frank there is no denying that Matthew Murdock embodies the best of this city.
Frank can’t speak the same for himself. He thinks he is long past salvation at this point, but with Red right here by his side, he dares to let himself dream. Like how his life used to be at one point, where he’d open his eyes to sunlight and a smile. He steals a glance at Matt’s face, he knows he has a naturally gorgeous smile, with those lips of his.
He can’t have this, not yet.
But one day, he thinks he’d like to.
His eyelids are growing heavy. Frank can’t remember the last time he had a good night of sleep. Hell, that was probably when he was at death’s door and lost so much blood that Lieberman had to donate blood for his blood transfusion.
Red does have a very comfortable bed. Frank can feel his mind going fuzzy, something he doesn’t permit himself to do very often considering the precarious position he found himself in for the past few months. But now everything is over, and……and Matt can handle himself.
“Hey Red……I think……I am getting tired.” He rasps against Matt’s ear. The young lawyer smiles, and carefully wraps his arms around his waist.
“Get some rest, Frank. Sleep well.”
That is the last thing Frank hears before falling into the feathery embrace of a dreamless sleep. For the first time in a very long time, his nightmares can’t reach him.
The next morning, Red doesn’t try to convince him to stay. He packs a bag of random medical supplies and clothes for Frank, despite Frank insisting he doesn’t need them.
“You will thank me later for the meds, trust me. From one vigilante to another.” Matt grins. Knowing he isn’t going to win this one, Frank takes the bag and swings it over his shoulder. “What’s next, Murdock? You gonna pack me lunch next time I see you?” He teases. To his surprise, Red actually seems a bit flustered at his comment.
“I don’t claim to be a good cook, but I might just surprise you.” He shrugs under the disguise of joking along. It’s the hesitancy in his voice that gives away his true wish. “......If you come back one day.”
Frank knows what he wants to say. “This isn’t goodbye, Red,” he wants to tell him, but he knows he can’t, because that’d be a promise, and he can’t bear to let any more people down with his broken promises.
Frank heaves a deep sigh. “Take care of yourself, Red. I mean it.” He brushes his thumb against Matt’s lips. Sunlight and smiles.
There are still things Frank needs to figure out on his own, and until that, he can’t have what he longs for.
He forces himself to head towards the door rather than asking Red if he can stay, because he knows the answer he will receive will always be “yes”. And Frank doesn’t know if he has the self control to turn down that offer.
“Thanks……for everything you have done.”
And he is gone.
To call what he is doing “waiting” would be incorrect because waiting implies he still believes Frank might return one day. He has accepted that might have been the last time he will ever see Frank. There are so many questions he had remaining for Frank after that night, but he has come to terms with the understanding that he might never get an answer for them.
If Frank was to come back one day……he has thought of it. For one, he would make sure he doesn’t try to take on the whole world on his own again. Matt wouldn’t let Frank fight his wars on his own anymore.
He keeps himself busy. The bright side to his double life is that well, being a defense attorney and the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen means there is no shortage of work for him to occupy his time with. For the most part, life goes on as usual, the only difference being he now pays extra attention to the news in case he catches a glimpse of the Punisher.
To be honest, life has gotten more busy for him as of late. A new gang has emerged in the Kitchen, and the identity of their leader has yet to be named. Matt throws himself into fighting once again, in order to keep his city safe.
It is a normal Thursday night when Matt hears a familiar heartbeat. He nearly couldn’t believe it, but the source is coming straight from his apartment.
His walking cane drops by his feet.
He starts sprinting.
This shouldn’t be possible but he knows, the moment he opens his door, that it is Frank Castle sitting on his couch. It’s his scent that is exactly as Matt remembers, only this time, with the absence of blood and wounds.
“Frank.” He can feel the rapid beating of his heart inside his chest, it’s nearly deafening. “You are back.”
“Word on the street is someone is giving the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen some trouble.” The man stands up from the couch, grinning. Matt finds himself doing the same, unable to contain the smile spreading on his face. “So I thought……maybe you’d want some backup.”
“I wouldn’t mind it.” Matt whispers. He knows Frank is walking towards him and he doesn’t flinch when he feels his hand on his face. “Really, why’d you come back?”
Frank doesn’t answer right away. He ponders for a good while, before carefully placing a kiss on Matt’s forehead tenderly.
“Because I decided waking up to sunlight is better than waking up alone.”