Chapter Text
Vivian shook out her nerves as she held her purse tight to her side as she climbed the steps into City Hall. Her heels clinking against the marble steps, she adjusted her hair to ensure it was over her shoulders. Her thoughts wandering towards a sense of completion and anticipation.
Her recent report about the properties that were taken by the City in the fall out of Mayor Fisk’s reign lingering in her brain.
She never got nervous about her work, but she had been on this project for a full year. Would the City take advantage of these property findings or would they slip in to the back logs of New York’s long line of cover ups?
It felt like each property used, owned, rented or simply touched by the Fisk administration brought layers of crime ranging from petty to international criminality. Maybe even intergalactic for all she knew in this Universe.
Thankfully, as a property lawyer, she focused on organizing and simplifying how the laws fell on each property and the level of violation was passed on to the new Attorney General and DA’s Office. They handled the deeper, darker items. Vivian just handled the environment.
She just knew the properties laws and how to assist the other law departments.
City Hall entrance was warm and inviting, color and buzzing with cheerful life as she headed towards her office a level below the ground floor. Everyone smiled at one another.
A sense of safety seemed to linger.
Mayor Shelia Rivera was always a calm, encouraging presence in their meetings. Always helpful with providing insider knowledge from her Fisk days. It had been 2 years since the fall out of Fisk, Daredevil, and the stranglehold on the city from those years of turmoil.
Vivian just wish she had been around New York to have seen it. To fully understand the scope of conflict and drama. She had finished up law school at Harvard several years ago and securing a steady job at a law firm took some time in Boston. Not to mention leaving her hometown of Boston was complicated, and finding this job felt like a dream.
She was constantly learning about New York. The hard way most of the time. The superhero lore was complex and she frequently mixed up storylines or history. Her frequency of missing the train always reminded her that the trains ran far superior to Boston’s and they were never late as back at home.
Mayor Rivera’s choice to pick her out of thousands of applicants to her new administration was a surprise. At her interview with the Mayor- she seemed interested in Vivian’s outsider background.
“You can look at this with a no biased lens, and maybe not be distracted by certain New York culture.”
Mayor Rivera, a controversial pick, had earned her spot with a significant amount of support of New Yorkers. Her honesty in debates and admission of seeing the criminal issues before her with lack of action actually made the people trust her more. She always seems composed and subtle with calculating the next steps. Seemingly with no self-interest? Unclear to Vivian, she knew to not ever fully trust a politician.
The BB Report discussed how there was possible DC influence and funding to back Mayor Rivera into Office, but it had dead leads to connect the two. So far the city had returned to some normalcy- maybe an uptick in crime with less vigilante action on the scene. But nothing to the level under Fisk.
Different factions of gangs and organized crime were duking out control between themselves. But it was far less consuming than previously for New Yorkers.
Big Cities just have crime. One way or another.
The Politics are complicated and she was happy to only be a part of the property law portion. It was a tough city.
Vivian didn’t mind the toughness- she loved her job and hoped to continue this kind of work in City Hall for as long as possible. A year and half of a nice small department with two other lawyers and a bright eyed paralegal was all she wanted. Simple, organized, and paid for a cute, brown stone apartment in the city.
Do some good in her own boring way.
She made it into her Office, greeting her two colleagues. Janice and Hakeem were already settled and enjoying their coffee.
Their three desks faced each other and for the first time in months, they could see their desks. Mountains of paper no longer stretched between them, or extra bins of dusty or even blood stained papers.
Just a beautiful, big binder sat in the middle of hers.
Staring for a moment, Vivian breathed out some relief.
“Well, the first major step for the city is completed. Amazing work team.”
Janice, a tiny 50 something year old Italian woman, who chained smoked smirked.
“All you honey, You were the General who led us to battle.”
Hakeem nodded, smoothing his dreads back.
“I covered Upper Eastside and the more “to do” areas…compared to your districts like Hell’s Kitchen…I got off lucky.”
She smiled at them. They were always so positive and encouraging, for New Yorkers. Hard to get a compliment.
“I think after work today- We should go share a drink somewhere, it is Friday?”
Janice shook her head.
“I got a baby shower tomorrow in Staten Island…if I sleep in and miss it. My cousin will gut me.”
Hakeem smiled, but also shook his head.
“Sorry Vivian, I have a flight tonight back to Florida to see my parents in their new retirement community. It’s a long weekend, are you heading home?”
Vivian shook her head- sure, Boston was 5 hours away. Easy train ride. But She had worked so hard to get away. Even after two years…she still wasn’t ready to return.
“No, I’ll probably just meet up with some friends then.”
Friends as in: some books, a glass of wine, and maybe a trivia game show to watch this weekend. Her kickboxing class was even cancelled for the long weekend.
She picked up the big binder of their work.
“I am heading upstairs with this, are you coming?”
“No, bask in the glory. We decided to sit here and take a moment.”
Vivian paused and teased back- “Not too long, not on taxpayer dimes. We still have to attack that Avengers tower permit fiasco. Stark Industries is stretching their might a bit too freely on New York airspace.”
Janice saluted her.
“Yes, Ma’am”
Vivian left the room feeling weightless. Good colleagues. Good lawyers. Just Good people.
Making her way to the Mayor’s Office was rare- she had to take an elevator to the top floor and three security check points.
Things were still tense in the sense of security. Was it because of Punisher? Or Fisk? Or Daredevil? Or one of the many other fantastical characters this city had…she never got a straight answer from anyone.
Everyone had a different myth or lore about what truly happened. And Where all these people were? Debated heavily in the public and whispered in City Hall.
Matt Murdock was in Prison for Daredevil’s crimes…because they were the same person, I guess? Fisk was removed from the City to an unknown destination… maybe dead? She needed to remind herself to start researching the lore again. This project had taken up so much of her time, she never learned all the players involved.
The news only provides so much. Plus back at home, there were not many vigilante encounters.
Boston has its own problems as well, never an Avengers level threat anyways. It handled its own problems its own way.
Vivian walked down the long hallway to the Mayor’s office, reaching the last security check point.
She was ushered in easily with her binder and felt at easy seeing the Mayor’s face. It was soft, but determined staring at her computer screen. She sat behind a massive desk in an Office that was well decorated. She recalls the Mayor removing most of Fisk’s personal items, colors, and furniture. Keeping anything that belonged to the Office from before and setting the decor chic and simple.
“Ms. McCarthy, thank you so much for this.”
Vivian handed over the binder and sat in front of the Mayor’s desk.
“This is going to help secure so much property return to the city-but also prosecute more of those involved in the Fisk Empire.”
Vivian smiled and nodded, never knowing what to say.
The Mayor looked thoughtfully at her.
“You don’t say much when you are in this room, but I see you chatting in your office.”
Vivian blushed at the Mayor’s personal interest.
“Your Honor-“
“Shelia, please. We are working together for this city.”
“Shelia, I never know what to say in these circumstances. Politics are not a comfort zone for me. I just like to focus on my work and I probably enjoy discussing it too much at nausea’m”
“Your work is concrete. Can it be politicized, Yes. But I would not put you in that position.”
Vivian believed her. Her stare at her was genuine.
The Mayor started to discuss future ambitions with her department and Vivian tried to keep focus when a sudden feeling came over her.
It was a long shiver down her back. She casually as possible glanced behind her shoulder at the Office and at the windows behind the Mayor. Who was now transfixed looking at the binder, continuing on about a future port project. Vivian picking up pieces of the conversation.
There was someone watching them.
Vivian tried so hard to focus on what she was saying, but she had the horrible sense of being watched. It felt like her skin was going to peel off of her.
Vivian jumped up suddenly, unable to bear it any longer.
“I apologize, I think I left something—somewhere.”
“Everything alright?”
The feeling had still not gone away.
“Yes, I just need to check something. I think at my apartment.”
Vivian was struggling for an excuse to leave that room.
“I left my cell number with your secretary, a while back. Thank you Ms. Mayor-I apologize.”
The Mayor seemed confused, but unbothered.
“Have a good weekend, Ms. McCarthy.”
Vivian nodded and tried to not practically run out of the room.
She headed straight to the restroom-splashing water on her face. Trying to catch her breath.
The sensation was leaving her. Being watched.
Glancing at her right shoulder she noticed her hair had gotten tucked in her shirt collar. She saw her long neck scar on display and quickly fixed her hair to cover it. Her frustration at herself grew.
Taking a deep breath and stretching her arms briefly. Vivian adjusted her black pencil skirt, deep green blouse’s button , and adjusted her brown wavy hair to cover her neck properly.
The feeling had finally evaporated when she reached her office. She had’t had that feeling since she was a teenager. The feeling of needing to look over her shoulder.
She settled into her desk and pulled out the oldest pieces of property manuscripts she had ever seen. Diving into her work would help get over this rare moment of unease.
————————————
The weekend went by slowly, and Vivian was practically bored, lying on her yoga mat the Holiday Monday morning. Watching the sun rays strike her window stain glass decorations of a Celtic cross. Shimmering colors on her ceiling.
Maybe she could go into work and do a few documents.
It be quiet and less interruption.
She showered, styled her hair in a nice bouncy, blow out. Slipped into a simple pair of jeans and black under-armor shirt. Slipped on a black dress jacket to seem semi professional in the City Hall building aesthetics. She glanced between her heels and her running shoes.
She threw on her heels to keep up the professional look.
The walk to City Hall was pleasant and she took the back way alley so she could slip in the back door. Gary, an old man security guard took the weekend shift. He knew her well.
She grabbed an extra coffee for him on her way too, just so he would not come bother her when his shift ended.
He would always let her close up her department well beyond closing times.
She arrived to the back door near the basement and found no Gary. Her face frowned.
His hat, coat, and keys sat at his stool.
She noticed the door slightly ajar, she figured he may have went in to the restroom. She left the coffee on the stool and headed inside.
She made her way to her office, listening for Gary.
But she didn’t hear a pin drop. It unnerved her.
Stepping into the Office, she set her phone down on the table, and started pulling documents from the storage organizer by the wall. The echoes of cabinets she opened vibrated in the office.
Her phone buzzed.
A text from the Mayor.
Vivian paused. This was not normal for the Mayor- who pledged to never contact City Hall workers on their time off. Not that she minded, but she promised it day 1 in Office to them. She had kept to it too at this point in time.
She opened the text.
“I have questions about the property project. Can You meet me at City Hall?”
Something felt wrong.
Vivian paused and read it twice. Her mind mulling a response.
“I can. Should I bring any extra material to answer your questions?”
She waited.
“No, just need your perspective”
Vivian stood still. Her body was screaming at her that this was unusual. Her mind confusing her to maintain her duty to her job. Not overthink the situation.
“I will be there in 20 minutes.”
A lie. But not untrue. It did take her 20 minutes to walk to City Hall from her apartment. She wanted to scope out who was in the building now. And if the Mayor was coming to meet her here.
“A new security detail will let you in the building.”
Vivian paused.
New? She just hired new details within the year.
Vivian slowly looked around the office. Nothing was out of place.
She slowly began to make her way up the hallway, quietly. She pressed the elevator button.
The elevator seemed louder than usual and she reached the top floor. The sun was setting in the city and all of the Mayor’s lights were on, the floor very bright, but empty.
Odd, again on Holiday.
She slowly walked toward the Office. The lack of security check points were interesting since the Mayor was in house. Typically, her details had multiple spots.
She glanced out of a series of windows that face the front steps. A dark suv sat out front the building. About 10 Men in dark swat gear lining up around the entrance of the building. Staring down anyone who seemed to close.
Very odd. Very not the Mayor’s style.
She made her way down to the Mayor’s Office at the end of the hall. Her heart jumping a bit.
Vivian slowed down as she was closer to the door. It was slightly ajar.
There were multiple voices in the Office.
She stilled to listen.
Male voices, multiple of them. Almost arguing back and forth.
She couldn’t identify any of them. And she knew the Mayor’s staff well. Her body crept slowly forward to peek at slick in the door.
Her stomach dropped.
Fisk sat very silently at the Mayor’s desk. His eyes following two other people in the room- a mild disagreement between them. He wore his classic white suit that she had seen in pictures from the newspaper back at home. Similar to the one on the day of his arrest.
This was a trap. A trap for City Hall employees probably.
She turned quickly to come face to face with someone her height.
A white mask with bloody cut out eyes. An odd wig hanging over it.
The figure slammed her head against the double doors of the Office by pushing her face back. She fell to the ground stunned, cursing that she was wearing heels.
The person grabbed her by the hair and dragged her into room, Vivian grasping at the hand on her hair to relieve the sharp pain. A very feminine hand she noted as well.
Two more hands lifted her up and sat her down on the chair in front of Fisk.
He seemed to study her, and study the ones around her.
There was a long pause as the two of them stared at each other.
Vivian felt something warm on the back of her head. She slowly reach back and touched it, blood appearing on her fingers.
Fisk seemed to take that quietly in.
“I apologize for the aggressive nature of our introduction. I have many acquaintances who seem to decide things rather impulsively as of late.”
He stared down someone behind Vivian. She assumed the masked individual, who stayed silent. He returned his gaze to her.
“Ms. McCarthy, your name has popped up on many documents my lawyers have forwarded me.”
Vivian didn’t say a word. She just gripped the arms of the chair tightly. Unsure what to do.
“You know how to sniff out all my little secrets. My points of interest.”
Fisk seemed to contemplate his next sentence.
“So much so, I had to fast track my return to my city.”
Vivian finally gained the courage to glance a little more around the room. A very well dressed man stood in the corner. Handsome, slicked back black hair.
He had bodyguard all over him. Buck Cashman, maybe?
Another man stood more off to the side, his face partial hidden by the shadows of the lighting of the Office. The early spring sun had set. His face had scaring. Nothing as aggressive as the scaring she had seen at home. Glasgow smiles were common around her neck of the woods. Also his scaring did not cover the former handsomeness he must have had.
A third man stood by the door, shaved head and mean face. He had some gray minimalistic gear on over his clothes.
She didn’t recognize any of them. The masked person was behind her, somewhere in the room, but she didn’t dare to turn towards them. Nor did she know the mask.
Her quick glance returned to the biggest threat in the room. Fisk.
He had watched her look over the room.
“I have brought on new associates to my cabinet. And kept my loyal ones.”
Still didn’t answer the million questions in her mind. Cabinet?
Does he still think he holds Office? She finally spoke.
“Where is Mayor Rivera?”
Fisk seemed disappointment by the question. His voice made Vivian tingle. Its deep husk and cadence was quite unforgettable.
“Shelia, she was good at the political theater. Knew her role. But she went too far.”
Fisk tapped his fingers on the desk- sharp, scary melody. Vivian noticed the blood on his knuckles.
“She betrayed me. Brought more fools in to try to charge me more than I deserved.”
Vivian tried to slow her breathing.
“Your work nearly ended my time away. The Federal Government can only turn a blind eye so long. Until it must punish.”
Vivian realized her work was fast tracking his exile to return to prison.
The property pursuits were opening up bigger cases against Fisk. Her work had brought him back here.
“I don’t care for lawyers.”
He said it very nonchalantly.
“But, as you will see…Rule of Law can only exist if there is a Court.”
A rumble echoed in the city. An explosion not far from the building shook the foundation.
Vivian looked east towards the City Court House—black smoke lingered above where she estimated it was.
Her phone began to buzz-the amber alert sound piercing.
Fisk didn’t react.
“Go ahead, read it.”
She pulled out her phone carefully. Not trying to make a sudden move. Buck’s hand on his gun, twitching for a moment.
Her text message read:
NYC RETURNS TO FISK; JOIN THE FUTURE OF DEMOCRACY. TAKE BACK WHAT IS YOURS.
ALL ACCESS WAYS WILL BE ELIMINATED TOMORROW AT NOON.
Vivian glanced up at him and then reread the text again.
“This is…”
Fisk stood up, his voice growing more agitated. As if a thought entering his mind made him enraged all at once.
“My turn to prove what this City can truly be. Secluded. No longer reliant on Federal Law or State Law. New York should be its own nation. Under a united, controlled leadership.”
“Anarchy.”
“It will be far from it. It needs a cleansing before I restore order.”
“The next 24 hours will be pure anarchy.”
Vivian repeated her point.
Fisk half smirked a mean smile, scoffing.
“With all the corruption-I was just the first tipping point to fight back. The city will level out.”
Vivian touched her head again, feeling the blood has matted and clotted into her hair. The room becoming a bit more hazy.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“I need the best to rebuild and for an outsider—my sources say you are the best. Sniffing out loopholes. Property is very vital for me to continue my work. I need new documents and language to create new property.”
Vivian shook her head.
“I can’t re-draw maps, make up laws to acquire property for you…its unconstitutional—“
“I am fully aware. But I and many others of like mind want to start fresh. I want a sealed new territory that is New York.”
Vivian couldn’t help but laugh at his bravado. His ego.
“You think the US government will just let you take New York?”
Fisk stood deadly still.
“It already has.”
The power in the building went out.
Emergency lights turned on, a noise of a massive generator sounding in the distance.
“Our nation is built on false promise, lies, and back door deals. I perfected the American way. The US government made its choices and brought me too close to their center. I have their secrets and I have insurance. What I request- I get.”
Vivian adjusted herself in the seat, her muscle aching from sitting up so tensely.
“Ms. McCarthy, you can be as coy as you want. But I know your origins.”
He shifted to sit in front of her, leaning on the desk.
“Your father ran a certain level of organized crime in South Boston. So much so, You became caught in the crosshairs when you were merely 16.”
Vivian froze, staring straight ahead. Her past slamming into her.
“He didn’t protect you, did he? Foster system is a cruel place.”
Vivian said nothing, a buried rage bubbling. She tried to quell it. The audacity of this man she thought herself.
“You know when to pick the winning side, and I assure you. I will protect you.”
This did it. This snapped something in Vivian. Something she so desperately tried to manage.
“Fuck you.”
She sneered it at Fisk. Her fear dissipating as her anger took over.
Fisk paused, sighed.
“Unfortunate.”
He nodded to the scarred man and began to leave with Cashman and the mean bald man.
“I have things to attend to, if you don’t mind Ms. McCarthy. Mr. Russo here and Muse will…discuss your future now. Maybe you can change your mind.”
The hooded figure had made their way to stand in-front of Vivian. Staring down at her with an insane intensity. The scarred man, Russo, smiled at Fisk.
“Of course, Sir.”
Fisk left the Office through the back door.
Russo waited till Fisk left before sighing, tilting his head at her.
He approached her, circling her, then crouching down to her level, almost looking up at her.
“I was really hoping you would have taken the deal, even if you didn’t mean it at first.”
Vivian pulled her arms closer to herself. He crossed his arms, leaning on the arm rest. Fake Puppy dog eyes up at her.
“You are quite beautiful, Vivian.”
This felt wrong and felt familiar all at once. Her mind flashing back to being strapped to a table. Her purple school back pack across the room. Her mouth gagged-her screams unheard. Italian being spoken around her. Only hearing one phrase when approached by her captors.
“So beautiful”
She could hear the knife be unsheathed from somewhere then a blinding heat and pain to her right shoulder.
A finger snapped in her face. She stared back at Russo, who seemed perturbed she had mental escapes somewhere else, even if it was a nightmare to her.
He brushed back her hair behind her right ear and noticed her scarring. His fingers traced her scar in a way that felt very intimate. His fingers touching the parts she avoid to look at.
Tears were forming in her eyes.
How could her life implode, again. In the same form of violence.
Russo seemed fascinated by her scars. His own so clear and present, unable to be hidden.
“You should take pride in this, why hide your strength?”
He looked at her with a desperate tone, like he was desperate for his scars to be understood.
Noises broke their stare down.
She started to hear shouting, glass breaking, and chaos erupting outside in the street below city hall.
Muse, the hooded figure, peered out the window.
“It’s getting a little wild out there. Let’s stop playing with our food.”
An agitated female voice grunted out of the hood.
Vivian turned back to Russo, who seemed disappointed. He stood up and started to pull out a decent sized knife. His back turned.
Muse approaching Vivian and pulling her up. This was her chance, Vivian’s one moment to fight back.
She pretended to stumble on her heels when Muse pulled her up and she used the woman as a stabilizer.
Muse tried to catch her and keep her up right- loosing her left arm up.
Vivian grabbed it-jerked it quickly so it was extended out and brought her knee up with crushing force.
Muse’s elbow went the opposite way, a loud crack erupting. Muse screamed and stumbled back hitting the desk then the floor.
Vivian turned, loosening her heels in process to jump out of them.
Her hand reaching the doors to leave when she felt a hand in her hair. Russo pulling her back and tossing her into the chair she had sat in, breaking it apart. Her back screaming at the impact.
Russo seemed amused by her actions.
“I appreciate Women like you.”
She removed her heels, and gripped a wooden piece that was sharp at the end, slowly standing up. Trying to control her breathing.
Russo twirled his knife.
“Thank you for making this interesting.”
He went to lunge at her, when an object flew through the window past them. A sound of glass breaking and a fire erupting.
People were rioting outside and someone had thrown a maltov cocktail in. The fire grew quickly and slammed up the back wall of the Office. These old buildings were like a match box. Smoke began to engulf the room.
She slipped past Russo, who was struggling to cough out the smoke. Barreling down the hallway, she came to front marble stairwell leading to the outside.
It was riddled with Fisk’s men. They had City Hall front entrance covered. Maybe 30? 50 men?
Her pause caught up to her and Russo came storming out of the office and spotted her. Making his way in a hurried fashion.
Just as she was about to head towards the back stairs.
A man stepped into the lobby of City Hall. Dressed in all black and a white skull on his chest. A slew of weapons on his chest and heavy guns in both hands.
The Punisher- Frank Castle. He was famous even in Boston.
The room instantly panics, he must have been unexpected.
The guns begin to unload without warning. Vivian drops to the ground behind a marble banister as bullets fly off.
Russo just about to reach her, when he notices the Punisher. His face goes through a series of emotions. Rage, calculation and she sees the fear.
A large rumbling of gunshots and Vivian spots a swat member lose his head from one shot gun blast. Frank using another Swat’s body as a shield.
Vivian began to crouch down the stairs away Russo.
Get to Frank Castle. Her mind screamed.
Russo moved quickly, grabbing her by the hair.
“Castle!”
His voice echoes in the chamber.
Frank pauses-Vivian notes the floor is covered in blood. Men moaning. Only about ten were still standing.
Frank kept the dead body in front of him as a shield. Their back riddled with bullet holes.
Vivian felt a knife up against her neck. Russo gripped her hair so hard it made tears to spring her eyes.
“How the fuck are you alive?”
Frank was practically spitting, staring around the room with this restless intensity. His eyes shifting back back-and-forth to his enemies and to Russo.
“I have some secrets, Frank.”
Russo chuckled with an arrogant manner. Pressing the knife to her neck again.
Vivian could smell smoke starting to seep behind them. The fire was growing in the building.
Frank briefly looked at her and then it Russo.
“Are you gonna let this girl die? Trying to be your version of a hero.”
“You’ve created anarchy with Fisk. You continue to make the wrong choices Russo.”
“Right back at you, brother”
Russo suddenly felt the heat of the fire starting to come down the hallway into the front entrance.
“Let the girl go, Fight me man to man.”
Russo chuckled.
“I think I’m done playing with my food.”
He suddenly stabbed his knife into her left side, twisting sharply. The pain blinded Vivian momentarily.
He whispered in her ear.
“Wish I could have kept you a little longer.”
The ten remaining Swat team unloaded on Frank, who had to dive behind a marble pillar. A muffled, gruff moan coming from the Punisher.
Vivian was released by Russo, her knees buckling, she slipped to floor. Sliding down the stairs, her face slamming into the marble banister at the bottom. The knife still sticking into her side. Russo, made an escape down the stairs behind her as she fell and headed in the direction of the back entrance.
“Russo!”
She could hear Frank screaming his name as the gunfire continued to be directed at him. Unable to clear a pathway to Russo’s direction.
She felt her side burning up, her breaths becoming more difficult to take due to pain. She was tasting blood.
Her hands were shaking as she felt the knife still sticking out of her. Not daring to touch it, blood pouring out. She laid on her back,
Staring at the smoke filling the ceiling. Wishing the sprinkle system would just activate.
Bleed to death or burn to death? She wondered.
The Swat paused- their need to reload their weapons creating a pin drop in the from entrance chamber. The chaos in the city being heard outside.
It was too quiet.
The world started getting hazy for Vivian.
A slick, whispering of a sound sliced through the air. A curled yell pierced the chamber.
And more of that sound and the SWAT team was scrambling to move out of the way of unknown assailant. They began yelling confused by where they are assault was coming from.
The sticky sound of a knives slicing and jamming into bodies.
Vivian could see her breathing becoming uneven. Her left lung screaming. Coughing had started. Blood was seeping from her mouth.
She thought of her mom. When she was beautiful, before drugs took her. Consumed her. Killed her.
Her mom smiling at her as she pushed her in the swing. Their ice cream cones melting together in a funny play fight. She was so young.
Vivian had not noticed the silence of the chamber until a voice spoke.
“Hello Frank, Need some help?”
A scuffle ensued and some grunting.
Vivian couldn’t see where Frank or this new person were. She gasped for air. Her coughing increasing.
She could hear the barrage of disagreement.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“Its okay now Frank, I’m here to help.”
A few punches, a kick, and she heard a body be thrown.
“Murdock said to never trust you, you sociopath.”
“Takes one to know one, Frank.”
Another sound of a punch.
A chuckled laugh.
“I mean you no harm, Castle.”
A grunt was the only response. Vivian’s eyesight was growing dark.
She finally felt someone hover over her.
“Hey, hey, stay awake.” A gruff voice sounded. Someone tried to pick her up, but struggled to.
“Allow me, Frank?”
“Fuck Off, Poindexter.”
Castle was trying to pick her up again and she reached for his arm. A flood of blood covered her hand. His arm was severely injured.
She let go. Her mind giving up.
“You need to find Fisk” she muttered out. “You need to kill him.”
Frank looked at her as if he failed.
The second person pushed him off her, hurting his injured arm. Easily sweeping her up, noticing the knife in her side.
He wore a deep blue suit with a bullseye on his forehead (very subtle from afar, but clear up-close). He had dark, intense eyes on display but no other facial features. His eyes full of enjoyment of the chaos clearly.
Vivian leaned into him, carefully wrapping her arms around his neck. Trying to not dislodge the knife in her side.
Frank grunted out to him.
“Lets move”
They made it outside to the back alley, creating distance as more of Fisk army began to arrive to City Hall.
Vivian felt them weaving through back alleys just based on the smell and wetness of areas. She leaned her head against the stranger’s neck to steady herself, help her with steady breathing.
They briefly encountered some petty muggers, taking advantage of the chaos. The two men never broke pace as Frank unloaded 3 shots into all three muggers.
Vivian coughed blood onto the blue suit, its roughness of it rubbing her face.
She mumbled her best apology, closing her eyes.
He shook her.
“Stay awake, girly.”
She heard Frank in the distance. He was on a cell phone, but she couldn’t hear him. Her ears beginning to ring.
She felt them descend into an underground area, but she was unable to keep her bearings.
A heavy door opened and a voice cut through.
“What the fuck is he doing here!”
“Karen, I couldn’t get her out alone.”
“Put her down there and back the fuck up.”
Vivian heard a click of a gun,
She was gently placed on what felt like a cot. She turned and vomited-which tasted like pennies.
Another female voice echoed.
“Shit, she’s lost a lot of blood. Karen, my bag.”
Vivian opened her eyes to a concerned face, pretty woman with black hair and kind face.
Behind her she saw the blue suited man back up, a muffled sound of voice barking at him. A blonde woman in his face with Frank stepping between them.
The man didn’t even glance at the Blonde, his eyes peeled on her stare.
He was transfixed.
The person directing and aiding her was clearly medical.
“Karen, I need you to hold her shirt in place as I cut it. I don’t want it to dislodge the knife.”
They slowly worked her jacket off and then began to cut her shirt with trauma shears.
Vivian glanced back at the two men as the ladies did their work, Frank had roughly grabbed the other man away. His mask now gone.
A strikingly handsome man with blondish, brownish hair stared down at her.
He smiled at her in a way that reminded her of Russo.
It was not a comforting smile, but a smug one. Transfixed.
Vivian finally felt her head to be too heavy and darkness over came her when she felt the knife become dislodged.
———————-
Vivian would intermittently awake throughout the next night into the next day, shadows and voices muffled around her. They had somehow stopped the bleeding with clotting bandages and provided fluid. Even one unit of blood.
Her pain was constant as she could feel the left side of her chest was now void of a knife, but a tube leaking out any excess air or blood. It helped her breathing, but it sure was uncomfortable.
She was grateful for her when Claire, a former nurse from Metro-General, as she had come to find out would treat her. She would give her a couple of doses of morphine to help her sleep, even if it was in four or two hour blocks. Claire controlled her fevers and walked her through every step of the process whenever she was able to be conscious. The pain would overcome her at points and she would lose consciousness, but she was always grateful to see her face when she woke.
It took three days for Claire to remove the chest tube, loading Vivian up with antibiotics to prevent infection.
It was an early morning when Vivian was able to sit up and give her surroundings a good look. They were in some sort of industrial building. A Basement that may be an old janitors locker room. There were several cots and an old couch. Even a shower room and kitchenette.
The windows glared light into her face and she shifted up slowly, bracing her wound bandage as she sat up.
Karen, the Karen Page, rested on a cot in the far right corner. Frank Castle, had his head back, eyes closed, sitting up on the couch. A gun in his hand. A slow breathing indicating he was asleep.
Claire was curled up and sleeping on the cot beside Karen.
She glanced around expecting no one else, to find the unwelcome Poindexter sitting up against the wall, one wrist cuffed to a radiator in the kitchenette. Everything cleared away from him.
He was awake as well, staring right back at her.
He watched her eyes look at the cuff. He pointed to it and shrugged nonchalantly as if it was a silly joke.
Vivian stood for a moment, slowly. Ambulating with hobble to the kitchenette, grabbing a water bottle. Sucking it down in one go. Almost gasping post drink. She was so thirsty.
She leaned with her two hands on the counter. Glancing at him as he stared up at her. They were only a counter space away.
“They cuff me when they sleep.”
Vivian must have looked confused.
“I know, as if I prefer to kill people in their sleep?”
He rolled his eyes. It was full of humor the moment for him.
“Who are you?”
He smiled up at her, this prideful grin.
“Bullseye. But you can call me Dex.”
She thought for a moment.
“The mass murderer Bullseye?”
“Well I wouldn’t say that’s my only MO.”
Vivian shook her head. Moving away a little far from him.
“Everyone at Harvard wants to study you. Due to your sociopathic tendencies”
He seemed flattered by the statement.
“I’m just trying to make a difference.”
Vivian scoffed. His pure psychological damage denial on display. Her body suddenly tired from standing she decided to lay down again.
She paused for a moment, glancing at him. She truly meant this when she said it.
“Thank you, for saving me.”
He just kind of stared at her. His face unreadable.
She turned back to her cot, slowly placing herself down. She laid on her right side, unable to lay left. He was in her full view across the room. She had felt his eyes never leave her.
They continued to stare at one another until she fell asleep. His smirk never fading.