all heart

“They wouldn’t. They would start sacrificing each other to the demons, either out of insanity or boredom.” The situation in New York was, to be frank, extremely dangerous. For all of the Fantastic Four’s knowledge on cosmic threats and other dimensions, they were completely in the dark. Even the world’s greatest minds combining their ideas together were utterly baffled by what had occurred, and no one seemed particularly eager to speak up against Doom unless it was in the safety of the back storage cupboard at the Bulletin, or their own living rooms. “I will get you a stack of them for Christmas. If we’re back on earth by then, do you stay in the city, or do you go home to family?” Karen rarely spoke about her upbringing, Sue knew only what she had done since arriving in New York, but Sue always wished to know more about her friends. It also meant she would know where to send the very elaborate Christmas present she was yet to come up with! A notebook was only the beginning of what Karen deserved. “Melodramatic,” Sue snorted. “Always had a chip on his shoulder when it came to Reed. Overconfident, until he wasn’t. Wore a lot of black, listened to Metallica when he was in the shower, thought he could sing when he couldn’t. I only noticed after we broke up that he was, in Johnny’s words, a ‘complete creep-fest.’” Sue took a breath, looking down at her watch. “No time like the present, unless you would like something to fill up your schedule sometime this week?”

“Hopefully insanity otherwise that’s bleak,” Karen said, cringing at the prospect. She couldn’t imagine people seriously sacrificing one and other to demons, but in New York, and caught between misery and detox, it didn’t seem entirely improbable. Slowly, the years had really taken away from her faith in humanity, Karen realized, and she wasn’t proud of that. Hell’s Kitchen wasn’t a kind place, however, and as the saying went, only the strongest survived. Luckily, they had heroes seeking out resources to keep from any serious tragedies and Karen truly hoped that would continue. “I can’t wait,” she said with a smile, genuinely appreciating Sue’s suggestion. As far as she knew, Sue wasn’t aware that Karen typically had a notebook tucked in her purse, ready to write any brilliant ideas down. Her phone never felt as genuine. “I stay in New York,” she replied. “My family doesn’t get together anymore.” It was the truth, she supposed, just without any detail. “Do you and Johnny stay here too?” Sue rarely discussed the Storm’s, and Karen knew better than to ask for any intimate details. “It sounds like he did a one eighty in order to become the president,” she said, wrinkling her brow. “Men like that don’t typically end up elected… they lack the charisma,” Karen was obviously thinking out loud, but she imagined Sue had grown used to that with Reed around. “I would love to do it now,” she replied before finishing the last of her drink. “I really appreciate this, Sue. I know it’s risky,” Karen continued as she rose from her seat.

| @karcnpcge

“You look lovely,” Lois says as she stops beside Karen, offering her a smile. “You’re like an amazon woman all legs and your…” she gestures vaguely. “Gorgeous face,” At the risk of sounding like a mad woman, Lois let the compliments stop.

“What do you make of all this?” She asks on an exhale, crossing her arms over her chest. “I have never been happier o be a human in my life, I just — I feel so bad. I bet some of these people feel pressured to reveal themselves despite the consequences that will surely follow,” Lois tugs at a curl as she talks before looking back up at Karen. “Sorry, didn’t mean to uh, bring it down. Did you come with anyone?”

“You always look lovely,” Karen replied with a smile. It was the absolute truth, Lois Lane never looked anything short of incredible. “Thank you,” she said sheepishly as Lois continued. “I love your dress,” she added, her smile widening. All of her compliments were honest, of course.

At the question, Karen faltered for a moment, considering what her opinion was exactly. “I don’t agree with any of it,” she said with certainty. “Doom is obviously making a power play, but I don’t understand what he can get out of it yet. I’ve been trying to find out, but all roads are dead ends.” Her explanation was long, but she had been researching their president to no avail for months. “At least their identities will still be private,” Karen said with a sigh. “In that regard, it could have been a lot worse, but what Doom did was wrong.” As the topic shifted, Karen forced a smile and shook her head. “I’m all on my own tonight, but I know a few people here. Did you come with anyone, Lois?”

For Frank, love had seemed simple up until the moment it wasn’t. He’d loved Maria and his kids more than anything else on Earth, would have done anything to keep them safe, and he’d failed them entirely. Love hadn’t been enough to save them, to keep them alive and, suddenly, it seemed far more complex than it had ever been before. He started thinking of shit like that, of relationships and romance and family, in the past tense. He’d had it once, and he figured he’d never really get it again. You didn’t get a second chance at something like that, didn’t get a do-over. Then, he met Karen. He met her and, all of the sudden, he was feeling shit he thought he’d lost a long time ago. He looked at her, saw her, and family didn’t seem like an abstract concept he’d never see again. What he had with her was different than what he’d had with Maria – he was a different man now than he’d been back then – but it was still there. It was still something.

If the way she’d kissed him was anything to go by, she thought it was, too.

He’d been avoiding the subject since it happened, been fighting a war to keep his eyes from darting down to her lips every time she spoke. She hadn’t mentioned it, either, and he tried to be relieved. He tried to remind himself that the person he was wasn’t someone who could have what she deserved, wasn’t the sort of man who could give her what she needed. He figured she regretted it, and he couldn’t fault her for that. When she broached the subject in his warehouse, he felt his eyes widen slightly, unable to hide the surprise. “We did,” he agreed. “We did do that.” He considered her words for a moment, wondered why she was asking him what he wanted. “Guess I was waiting on you to tell me that,” he admitted. “Thought the ball was in your court.” Rubbing at the back of his neck, he shrugged a shoulder. “It bad of me to hope it might? Happen again?”

Relationships of the romantic variety had never been kind to Karen. Her secretive nature was most likely a big part of that, she could freely admit it, due to the fact that no one truly knew her. Matt hadn’t understood what she had lost — he had never asked — and her certainly didn’t acknowledge her ferocity or desire for freedom. What Karen had had with Matt was love, she had never once doubted that, but she had fallen in love with a man that never existed, and assuming Matt similarly, he had fallen for a woman devised entirely of his assumptions. The other people Karen had dated were similar, she never knew Clint, and he never understood a thing about her, and the list only continued from there. It was an unfortunate reality, but with Frank, things were different. He asked the proper question, he allowed Karen to take the necessary time to trust him, and he never once assumed what kind of woman she was based solely on devised appearances. It was among the many reasons that Karen had fallen for Frank, and perhaps the most important, the exact reason why she was willing to dive into loneliness in order to be with Frank Castle for presumedly a very short period of time.

When Karen broached the subject, it was obvious that Frank was surprised. She couldn’t blame him for that, they had been avoiding discussing it, but Karen could only play that game for so long. She preferred their honest way of communicating, but without acknowledging what had happened between the two of them, honesty was impossible. “I’m glad you haven’t forgotten,” Karen replied with a wry smile, hoping to remind Frank that he was free to be lighter, albeit only briefly. He was a burdened man, incapable of joy for extended periods of time. It was something that Karen would inevitably have to make peace with, though she believed accepting Frank’s misery was impossible — he deserved far better. “I always believed what we’ve built is equal,” Karen pointed out, “and equality means either of us can discuss what’s on our minds.” Luckily, Frank continued, and admitted that he hoped it would happen again. “No, that’s not bad at all,” Karen replied. “I was hoping it might happen again, too, although I’m not sure what that would look like. Have you got any ideas?”

Relationships were always complicated, Karen understood that. The romances she had were typically short trysts, including what she had had with Matt. She had loved him undoubtedly, but at the end of the day, she hadn’t known Matt Murdock and Matt hadn’t known her. She never trusted him with the truth about Kevin, and Matt had never once asked about where she grew up or how close she was to her family. It was unfortunate, a difficult lesson to learn — you could love someone desperately and never know them, and they could make decisions about who you were — but Karen was slowly overcoming the heartbreak over that particular failure. Truthfully, it wasn’t losing her relationship with Matt that hurt as much as once again being forced to lose her family. That being said, her decision to visit Frank had nothing to do with the past that had broken her heart. She was visiting Frank because of the man he had proven to be: trustworthy, honest, caring and while they undoubtedly had difficulties and would in the future, she wanted to know for certain that their relationship could exist in its own realm. It would never be open, no one would realize Karen was with someone, but it would mean something to her.

Seated inside Frank’s current warehouse, the dogs gathered around her feet, Karen nervously looked down at her hands. Typically, she was comfortable with Frank, their friendship was deep and they had discussed secrets. “I was hoping we could talk about something,” Karen said quietly. Their kiss had been on her mind since it happened, and she wasn’t blind, she was aware that Frank was interested in her. “We kissed recently, and I was wondering if you wanted that to happen again.” Beating around the bush with Frank was pointless, they respected each other much more than that. Karen understood that in many ways, whatever they created would be lonely for her. Frank was dead for all intents and purposes, a wanted criminal, but Karen was inclined to follow her heart. Even if it were brief like every relationship Karen had in the past, Frank was worth it.

The party wasn’t an event that Karen would typically attend, but it was the first and only opportunity she had had to get close to President Doom. He was an aloof, mysterious man, but unfortunately, the party had not ended the way Karen expected. She had genuinely believed that it would be a peaceful evening, and she had expected their president to mingle with the crowd. Evidently, that had not been what happened and with the crowd going crazy at the sight of the list, Karen ducked into a nearby corner, hoping that she was safe from the chaos. She had no desire to push and shove her way out, and she had no desire to rally with Doom’s supporters and Doom’s enemies. Karen sought out the truth, it was her brand of justice, and this resembled none of it.

Breathing heavily, she was surprised when someone else joined her. They were further from the exit than most, but it seemed to her to be the safest place and it didn’t surprise her at all that someone had made the same decision. When she recognized that it was Steve Trevor, she smiled warmly. Their relationship, as she had expected, did not work out. Her heart was with Frank Castle whether she admitted it or not, but she liked to believe that she and Steve were friends regardless. “Hi,” Karen greeted, her voice raised to be heard over the panicked, angry and liberated crowd — their calls were really quite diverse. “It’s nice to see you despite the circumstances,” she added. “Um, what do you make of all… this?” In her line of work, public opinions were necessary and Karen trusted Steve’s analysis.

“An alien named Rhomann Dey was chasing a space pirate and managed to track him to Earth, but Dey was badly wounded, barely managed to survive the trip through the Earth’s atmosphere.” He begins, idly stirring sugar into his coffee. He hasn’t thought about it in a long time, wasn’t sure if the Cancerverse had even allowed him to keep the memory (there are bits that he’s finding are fuzzy, like his the face of his younger brother, or some of the missions he served with the Guardians), but he’s sure that they’d have to do a lot worse to him than they did for him to lose this–the thing his life hinges on. “He was the last surviving member of the Nova Corps, a peacekeeping militia force based off of the planet Xandar, and he needed to pass his power onto someone, and at random he picked me, I was a senior in high school at the time.” He smiles and shrugs his shoulders, chuckles. “So I dropped out and I did the hero thing for a while, called myself Nova the Human Rocket before I got called into space and properly joined the Nova Corps.” 

He takes a sip of his coffee and taps his fingers against the ceramic; being dead has made him gravitate towards sources of warmth, like he’s trying to remind himself that he hasn’t gone cold yet, despite everything. He wonders if she’ll even know to ask about the others, the ones who went cold when Annihilus tore Xandar apart. “I know I’m the unknown in this situation, but does this mean I get to ask you why you got into journalism instead of say… laser gun science?” He smiles and raises an eyebrow, chuckles. “By the way,” He channels only a little bit of the Nova Force, enough to make his palm glow and do nothing more, opens it so it faces her. “I may have mislead you somewhat, since I’m kind of a laser gun myself. Every Nova has the ability to channel the Nova Force.” 

“That sounds terrible,” Karen said softly. She couldn’t imagine the way Dey’s flesh had been charred, likely bloody, thanks to the trip. It was a horrific way to pass, and presumedly, the alien had been a hero. She understood little about the intricacies of the superhero world that belonged on Earth, but when space became involved as it was now, Karen was completely blind. Everything Rich was saying, she believed to an extent, but without fact checking and sources, the story could never run. This was a personal conversation for her, and honestly, she appreciated the way he answered her questions without hesitation. As far as people Karen accidentally ran into, he was one of the most interesting and genuine, she was grateful for that. In New York City, people with kind hearts were a dime a dozen. “That’s a lot of responsibility for a high schooler,” she replied sympathetically. “Did you enjoy it? It sounds like you went really far,” she acknowledged.

As the questions turned around on Karen, she smiled faintly. It was exactly what she would have asked in his position and she didn’t mind sharing in the least — at least not about journalism. When it came to personal history, particularly about her family, she immediately clammed up. Luckily, that wasn’t the case. “Well, I did intend to pursue laser gun science, but I never had enough money for university,” she admitted. Her financial situation wasn’t something Karen bothered to hide, she had moved to New York City immediately after graduation without a penny to her name. “I worked a lot of secretary jobs — like I said, I couldn’t pay for school — and eventually, I was working for a law firm. One of the cases seemed… wrong and so I looked into it. It was a big break for me and after it got published, I got a position at the Bulletin.” It was a very short version of the events, but Rich didn’t seem like the kind of guy that would be offended by that. As his palm began glowing, Karen’s eyes widened. “What’s the Nova Force? Some kind of energy?”

“It would be almost as catastrophic as a coffee drought would be for the academic population,” Sue said, thinking fondly of how the labs at the Baxter were piled high with empty coffee mugs and Starbucks bags. Black coffee from the decanter was her port of call considering it was often the quickest and easiest option, but she had to admit, she was relieved to hear that there were more resources out there that would mean she didn’t need to mourn for her caramel latte just yet. “If you wanted paper, we could definitely go to Daphne’s house. I don’t think she’s written anything in her rather large, expensive looking notebook all year besides jotting her name down a thousand times per class.” The things that Sue had to deal with, honestly. She almost found the micro aggressions of her students more irritating than the demons infiltrating the city, though obviously it was far less serious, and her perception of things was warped from years of superheroics. “Oh, I’m more than aware,” Sue said, turning serious. “I don’t trust Doom as far as I could throw him. I’m in a unique position where I knew him before he was … what he is now. If things go south, I’d hope he would understand where I was coming from.” It was far from the truth, but it was wishful thinking, which was in desperately short supply these days. Nothing would dissuade her from assisting Karen in any way she could, and her friend had to know that.

“How would anyone in New York go on if both gin and coffee were unavailable?” Karen mused. There was no attitude in her words, she was genuinely posing the question. New York City was in a perilous position, and while she and Sue were capable of joking about it, the fact of the matter was quite simple: inevitably, they would begin running out of luxuries, and when that time came, the population would have to adjust. Karen was concerned people weren’t capable, New Yorkers were… vain. “I would love that,” she said with a laugh. “I’m always looking for new notebooks, especially the nice ones.” Hers was a simple Hilroy, no fanciness to be remarked upon, but it would be nice for that to change. After all, Karen was a professional. As their conversation shifted into a serious tone, Karen took another sip of drink, as if bracing herself for the truth. She always sought it out, but more than anyone, she understood intimately how difficult honesty could be to face. “What was he like before?” She asked quietly, her brow furrowing. If Sue knew him years ago and he had no interest in politics, that was a great lead. “I hope he understands, too, but if he doesn’t… this is how we protect people. When should we go?”

Family - because that was what the three of them had been, a family, what they still would be if Matt hadn’t thrown complication after complication into their lives - was extremely important to Matt, but that didn’t mean he knew how to react to it when it was right in front of him. At one stage, he had the entire world ahead of him; a firm that was succeeding (although they were desperately poor, they were helping people, and for Matt that was the very definition of success regardless of what the bank thought), a best friend who still thought of him as the man he had known since college, a girlfriend who was amazing, intelligent and fascinating all at the same time. He had the whole world, he had every chance of being happy, and then, true to form, it had all gone spectacularly to shit. It would’ve been easy to blame the situation with the Hand, to point the finger at Stick and say that Matt’s mentor had pushed him down this path, but to do that would mean not taking responsibility himself. Matt didn’t have it within himself to be happy, that was the long and the short of it. When he thought there was a chance that might be the case, he destroyed it, and he made sure there was no coming back.

Still, he believed in forgiveness. He believed that anyone had a chance for redemption, to see the error of their ways and do something to change that. If that didn’t extend to him as well, then it wasn’t much of a strong belief system. “Really? I thought my boss was just losing hair because the water cooler had stopped producing ice,” Matt deadpanned, a small smile on his face as he did so. “A few,” Matt said. “I’m hoping to get a few more, actually. I joined a team recently, figured that what I was doing alone wasn’t exactly working for me, so I might as well try something different.” It was a massive step for him, all things considered, and it was yet more proof of how desperately he was trying to make amends - though the words that would surely help the situation weren’t coming out quite as easily. “Public support in cases like this is always beneficial,” Matt said. “Considering it would make me prosecuting him a little more difficult, I can’t ask you to be on his side, but if he’s innocent…” Matt trailed off, sure that Karen could fill in the blanks.

“Speeds up the healing process, at least. I learned how to do it about twenty years ago, give or take.” Maybe twenty-five, though when Matt thought back on his first lessons it definitely felt as if it was closer than that. Matt didn’t wince at Karen’s tone, knowing that he deserved every bit of her anger, and more than she would ever give to him. “I couldn’t think of something to tell you that wouldn’t reveal what I was doing,” he admitted, “and I know the truth was an option, it should’ve been my first option, but I…” Matt took a breath. “I wanted someone who liked me as the person my dad wanted me to be, you know? No violence. No hatred. No ninjas breaking into his house to kill him. And you liked me. You liked that Matt Murdock. And I liked you, a lot. I couldn’t come up with the explanation, and so I just left it. Figured that you were better off without me, same as Foggy.” Matt nodded, swallowing thickly, but strangely, things felt a lot lighter now that he had told the truth. Stick had always painted it as something to be avoided, that secrecy was safer, but Matt knew now that wasn’t the case. “I’d like to try to rebuild,” Matt said, voice soft, “if that would be something you’re interested in.”

Since Karen left Fagan Corners, she had been searching for family to some extent. The second she had chosen to pursue leads explaining Kevin’s rather than mourn Kevin alongside her parents, she had forfeited any relationship with the Page’s. It hadn’t been her intention, she simply wanted to understand what had truly happened to her brother, but her parents hadn’t seen it that way. She had hurt them, and while it was unintentional, her mother informed her, ‘We shouldn’t have had to mourn two children.’ They were right, of course, but Karen would have liked to be supported, too. The Page’s hadn’t known their son remotely, they didn’t realize that Kevin would never be driving down the highway during school, speeding, on his own without cause. Ironically, Matt and Foggy didn’t truly know Karen either. They never asked her for personal details, they paid little attention to what her passions or interests were. They had made the mistake of creating a woman in their mind, and while they loved her, Karen wasn’t sure it was unconditionally. Thus far, no one was capable of that kind of love where she was concerned. Idly, she wondered whether that reflected poorly on her.

If Karen were being entirely honest, she hadn’t loved the man that Matt genuinely was either. To be fair, that was due to the fact that he had hidden one of the largest, most important parts of himself. Karen liked to believe that if she had the honour of truly knowing who he was, she would have fallen for him just the same. After the way Matt had behaved, lying to her and making her feel inadequate — Karen hadn’t stood for the latter long — she would never fall in love with any version of Matt. Their friendship could be repaired, Karen had to believe that because she still cared deeply for him, but their romance was no longer alive. “That sounds awful, Matt,” Karen said with a laugh. “How are you working there?” When he mentioned joining a team, Karen’s eyebrows rose. “You joined a team? What team?” Honestly, she had never expected Daredevil to ever join a team. “Do you like it?” Karen was asking too many questions, but she couldn’t deny that she was relieved Matt was doing something safer than working solo. “I’ll wait until there’s concrete evidence one way or the other,” Karen replied. “I’ll do some digging, too.”

Moon Knight was someone that Karen trusted. In theory, she was a relatively trusting woman, she knew. She believed that people had the best intentions, that they would help her if given the opportunity, and at times, that very belief had lead her into perilous positions. After her discussion with Marc, revealing that his… god wanted to help her, Karen had come to think about Marc as an ally in her investigation into President Doom. Admittedly, her results had been limited. She couldn’t publish an article about how strange it was for a president to have no paper trail, no proof of a campaign, but after the list was revealed, Karen’s suspicions only increased. Everything Victor von Doom seemed calculated and as a result, Karen needed to become unrelenting.

It was dusk when she arrived a few blocks away from the Empire State Building, Doom’s acting office, and that had been a conscious choice. She wasn’t confident that Moon Knight would help her with an investigation as danger as the one Karen was about to begin, but she could ask, and if things went terribly wrong, a vigilante would know the truth about her disappearance. Ultimately, it was the safest decision, although coming from Karen, a woman with little concern about her safety on the pursuit of transparency, ‘safe’ meant little. Her gun was tucked into her pants, unloaded for the time being, and she had her phone recording in preparation. It was the best arsenal she had. When she saw Moon Knight approach, Karen took a step forward and offered him a smile. “Thanks for meeting me,” she said. “I was hoping I could convince you to help me with something. I want to search Doom’s home,” she admitted. “He doesn’t always stay in the Empire State Building. “He sometimes stays at the Langham Hotel, we can start there. What do you say?” Before Marc could answer, she added, “I want proof that always planned on leaking the list.” After President Doom repeatedly promised he would not reveal the names, it was a mighty claim to make.

“I’ve spent a lot of time in space, so the amount I know about laser guns would actually probably shock you.” He grins, shrugs his shoulders again. “Unfortunately I couldn’t tell you if Doom has any. My gut feeling says he’s more of a–magic, kind of guy, if anything. Like Doctor Strange or the Scarlet Witch–bending the laws of the universe in some way.” He’s never cared much for that kind of thing, not that he’s ever been good at science and logic and all of that, or ever felt particularly adherent to it, but he’s spent enough time in space that he’s come to appreciate the solid rules that this universe and most universes are bound to. The planets and the stars have to stay constantly in motion, he had to die in the Cancerverse so that the universe could continue to have death–he can handle that. Where magic is concerned, that isn’t necessarily the case, and it makes him uneasy.

He nods as she explains her approach to journalism, and honestly it’s akin to a breath of fresh air in comparison to the borderline propaganda that they’re being fed through the mainstream media. Truth and facts are hard to come by currently, and he’s grateful that there are apparently still individuals who value them and seek after them–especially people who lack superpowers. “Maybe I can help you fill in some of the blanks, if you have a second. I’m a member of the Nova Corps, an intergalactic militia force–I might know something useful?” He’s been careful about who he choses to collaborate with, not wanting to tie himself or the Corps to anything or anyone who could force his hand in terms of registration or listing, or –Sue Storm was a brilliant astrophysicist and an incredibly thoughtful and honest individual, throwing in with the Fantastic Four (but mostly her) had been a no-brainer, and Karen seems like the perfect person to be free and giving of information with. Someone who will use it in the pursuit of good and truth.

“I could buy you a cup of coffee and we could talk?”

“Please, tell me more about the laser guns,” Karen said with a faint smile. She wasn’t sure how she had learned to react normally to the words ‘I’ve spent a lot of time in space,’ but New York was absolutely insane. They were allegedly lost in space, she supposed she had learned to adapt. “I don’t think I like the sound of that,” Karen replied slowly. She knew very little about magic, and truthfully, very little about the general superhero world. Her experience with Daredevil was limited and Frank was far from an Avenger. However, Karen was a logical woman, and logic made it obvious that dangerous people with that kind of power would prove to be lethal. “You said you spent a lot of time in space and you know about magic… is that just coincidence, Rich?” She asked delicately, knowing how personal her question was. Matt had chosen to hide his identity from Karen for a ver long time, it was inevitable that other heroes felt similarly, assuming this man was not merely an astronaut.

In Karen’s experience, powerful people, assuming they weren’t corrupt, always responded kindly to her personal brand of journalism. It was how she had formed a friendship with the King of Wakanda, and judging by this man’s title, member of the Nova Corps, Rich was well respected as well. His offer was kind, she immediately smiled upon hearing it and Karen nodded. “That would be amazing, thank you,” she said gratefully. The story was one she felt passionately about and New York was in dire need of some honesty. “I would love that,” she agreed.

Once they were seated inside a quaint coffee shop (by New York’s standards) with cups of coffees warming their hands, Karen looked at Rich for a moment, studying him. “Before we get into the grisly isolation stuff, I was wondering if you could tell me how you ended up in the Nova Corps. Off the record, I promise,” Karen asked curiously.

At the time, it felt as if the only thing that Matt could do was shroud the grand majority of his life in lies and secrecy, and hope to God that by the time the danger passed, everyone would understand why he had done it. Of course, that turned out not to be the case. When Foggy first discovered that Matt was Daredevil, he had not been relieved. He had not been thankful for the fact that Matt had shielded him from danger, not grateful that his ignorance to Matt’s nighttime activities meant that ninjas weren’t going to kill him in his sleep. He had been angry, he had felt betrayed, and Matt understood that, but that didn’t mean he necessarily regretted trying to protect his family as best as he could. He knew what it felt like to live a life where he knew what his father was doing every night. Jack would come back with bloody, bruised knuckles, a new wound for Matt to stitch, and his hands would be shaking until he downed another bottle of booze that they could barely afford. Matt knew what his father was. All the love in the world couldn’t change that, and he didn’t want that for his friends. He didn’t want that for Karen. Telling her the truth, though, turned out to be something she would have appreciated monumentally more, and as the months had progressed, he began to realise that more and more.

True to form, by the time Matt figured it was time to tell her the truth, it was too late. Lying was his default, secrecy was where it was safe, and when he tried to change that, things went to hell in a handbasket, preventing him from doing so. Now, though, they were trapped in this city. They had a chance. Matt had a chance to tell her what he had done wrong, not because she didn’t know, but because he wanted her to know he did. “Under a lot of stress,” he said. “Yeah, we’ve been friends for years. Vigilantism in New York is kind of a niche market.” Then Peter went and became an Avenger, but their relationship hadn’t changed. “That’s what I’m attempting. Of course, being free to choose where they go themselves is the preferable option, but I could put Xavier’s into the sentence if it came down to that. The kid needs assistance, not condemnation.”

Matt took a breath. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m dealing with them. Meditation heals them.” He couldn’t tell if it was concern in Karen’s voice, or disbelief at everything he was saying. Which hurt more, he coudn’t be sure of either. “I don’t really know where to start,” he admitted, “but what you walked in on - with Elektra - it wasn’t what you thought. We weren’t together. I never would have done that, you were … you were important to me. You still are. I brought her back to my place because she was bleeding out. The old man that you saw, that was Stick. He taught me how to do – the things that I do.” Of all the lies he had told, that misunderstanding was the one that had weighed on him so significantly. “We were fighting an ancient enemy called the Hand. They – they’re complicated. Dangerous. Don’t care who they hurt. I thought I was protecting you. I honestly did. That – I know that’s no excuse.”

Losing Matt and Foggy — briefly in Foggy’s case — had been devastating for Karen. She had journalism to throw herself into and to protect herself from the sting of the loss, she had thrown herself into it, researching countless articles and successfully making a name for herself in the process. Journalism was a profession she had always wanted to thrive in, but without a degree or the money for education, it had always been unattainable. In the end, Karen had doubted herself pointlessly, and while she was living what was technically her dream, she was lonely. The person who knew her best in the world was Frank, an endlessly complicated relationship, and she missed Matt. He had lied to her horrifically, allowed her to fall in love with half the person he was, and the betrayals he had committed was unfortunately a very long list. Karen was angry, she wasn’t sure she could ever entirely forgive him, but when you missed someone as fiercely as she missed Matt, Karen was willing to try. Unfortunately, trying was not a simple process. She still was unaware of the reason behind Matt's decision to keep such integral parts of himself from Karen, nor did she know what his relationship with Elektra was, and those thoughts circled furiously in her mind, reminding Karen that Matt was never the person she had fallen in love with.

“I think everyone is under a lot of stress lately,” Karen said wryly. That was an understatement, New York City was completely isolated from Earth, and with no idea where in the galaxy they were — or even what dimension — Karen was unsure how to cope with the knowledge. Rather than fret, she had, true to form, thrown herself into the honest stories she was capable of telling, beginning with their mysterious president. “Do you have many superhero friends?” Karen asked hesitantly, unsure about what boundaries she had Matt had wordlessly developed. Trying to forge peace between them was difficult and the last thing she wanted to do was destroy what amicability they had formed during their recent, strained conversations. She cared about Matt after all and Karen always would. “That’s a smart move,” she agreed with a nod. “Can I help with your case at all?” Sometimes publicity changed a sentencing entirely.

The entire situation surrounding the discovery of resources in the wasteland was still something that was weighing on Sue’s mind. She knew that it was a good thing, and ultimately it would have been inevitable considering how many of the most amazing scientists in the city were working on the issue, but it seemed as if it was extremely convenient timing. She was deeply suspicious of Doom - that was an easier way to refer to him, rather than Victor, rather than old friend - and it felt as if she had a good reason for that, but she couldn’t rationalise it. It was extremely irritating, but being with Karen and distracting herself with dinner was ultimately what she needed. “Thank God,” Sue muttered. “New York is never the happiest place on the world, but imagine it if there was a gin drought.” She imagined there would be monsters less terrifying. “Absolutely not,” she said. “They’ll probably use their notes as kindling for the fire. I don’t mind. We’ll get back on track once we return.” It wasn’t an if, it was a when, of that much Sue was sure. “They’re pretty amazing,” she admitted, “even if they’re standard.” She was insanely lucky to have her life, and she knew it. “If you ever want to call on me for a hand, you know where to find me. Now that the kids are off, I’m definitely going to need something to occupy my time. What better than helping you nail the bad guys to the wall, huh?”

“I don’t think I want to imagine a gin drought right now,” Karen admitted. New Yorkers were haughty at the best of times, but without liquor to calm their nerves, she envisioned it being absolutely horrific. There would be riots, paranoia, demands, and right now, they needed to be operating as a team in order to be free of their strange circumstances. Karen might not drink excessively herself, her reliance on alcohol was questionable and unhealthy, but not everyone had her vices. “Well, at least that leaves us with a little more usable paper,” she joked. Their resources and lack thereof was something that terrified Karen, she understood the direness of their situation, but she also understood that humour was necessary in situations like their own. “They’re definitely amazing,” Karen agreed with a smile. When Sue agreed to her offer, Karen was surprised. Her job required investigation, especially since she prided herself on honest journalism, but Sue would be taking a risk in helping her — especially against the President. “Are you sure you know what you’re offering?” She asked, worry evident in her tone.

Heroism was a part of some people.Frank had seen it every day in the Marines, seen soldiers with a chronic habit of helping the people around them. Back then, over in the desert, it never ended well. In places like Afghanistan, heroism got you killed. Sometimes, heroism got you killed in New York, too. Trish’s death was a painful reminder of that. Karen, she was just like them, just like all the bright-eyed, determined, heroic assholes he’d seen shot to hell in trenches, just like all the guys he’d seen bleed out into the sand. It fucking terrified him. She was so steadfast in her beliefs, so eager and determined to find the truth that she didn’t seem to mind the idea of dying for it. Frank, he was reckless because he had nothing to live for, but Karen? Karen’s recklessness was because  her search for the truth was more important to her than her own goddamn life. Frank respected it, he respected her, but he was still terrified of losing her to it. Maybe that was selfish, but he’d always been a selfish man.

Still, he wasn’t here with some misguided idea of changing her, wasn’t here with hopes of making her something less than what she was. Karen had her truth, chased it down with determination and recklessness, and Frank had his vendetta. It was what made them who they were, and they both understood that. No, he was here for her, here for the same reason he asked to talk to her alone in that hospital room, the same reason he was so afraid of losing her. At his core, Frank was a thoughtless, selfish man. It would have been right to let her go, to let her live her life separate from him, but he couldn’t do it. He’d lost so much already, and he couldn’t imagine adding Karen to that list, not even if it meant she’d be better off. 

“You’re welcome,” he replied, and the smile on his fact could only be described as soft. It was a smile that existed only for her, one that few people had ever seen. Frank was angry, he was cold, he was rough around the edges, but Karen made him forget all that. She made him something like the man he’d been a million years ago, and he clung to her for it. His smile widened a fragment at the question. “Lisa, uh, my little girl… She went through a phase where she’d only eat foods that were certain colors. Yeah, there was… There was nothing green. She liked it to be red. I’d make spaghetti, you know, with red sauce. Put carrots in the sauce and she loved it. The orange with the red, she liked that. Yeah. My boy, he was… He was too young to care much about colors. He liked, uh… Simple foods. The wife, she said it must’ve driven me crazy making macaroni and spaghetti when I used to make the real stuff for her, but… I never minded it. You know? I kinda liked it.” He snorted at Karen’s statement, nodding his head. “I don’t have much time for bullshit,” he told her. Murdock, he figured, had always made time for it, probably lied to Karen about everything from the girl helping him fight on the roof to the horned helmet he wore when the sun went down. She deserved a hell of a lot better than that. Frank sighed as she moved in closer. He rarely felt at ease anymore, but with Karen’s shoulder up against his, he felt close to it. Not calm, but not at war, either. “Wouldn’t be you if you weren’t making enemies of some kind,” he teased, though the confession did worry him a little. The demons didn’t seem to be killing anyone yet, but they’d start eventually. Things like that always did. “Really?” He knew Karen didn’t have much of a stomach for killing. It was surprising to hear that she was all right with what he did.

Growing up, Karen had never idolized superheroes like the other kids in Fagan Corners did. They were all amazed with people like Captain America and proudly claimed that they would grow up to become exactly like him. Karen, on the other hand, had never viewed Captain America as someone worth revering. After all, it was impossible to emulate someone that was a complete stranger, and frankly, Captain America was a creation rather than a person; America was clever for giving the people a figure to rally behind, someone brave and enigmatic. Still, Karen couldn’t help but see dishonesty in the man that the military had used to inspire Americans. That didn’t change his heroism, of course, or make him a bad man, but Karen preferred to believe that everyone had heroic traits. Every single individual was a superhero in their own capacity, every single person was worth rallying behind, armed with a just cause, and Karen was proud of her viewpoint. She liked to believe that her most heroic trait (not that she considered herself heroic) was her desire to find the truth even when it seemed impossible, Matt’s was obviously his willpower, Foggy’s was his loyalty and Linda who worked at the coffee shop across the street from her home was her thoughtfulness. Every single person had a heroic trait, even those that were feared.

Frank Castle’s most heroic trait was his unconditional love. Karen had never met a man who fought so fiercely for the people that he loved — unfortunately, in his case, those people had been lost. The people that viewed the Punisher as someone invulnerable was incorrect in their assessment, Frank Castle had become outwardly cold, but his emotions were intense and all consuming. The vendetta may have consumed him, but Karen was lucky and saw many more sides of Frank Castle, and all of them made her all the more positive that above all, Frank was chasing after the love that he had lost. It humanized him in ways Karen could hardly fathom.

Frank’s smile was a rare sight and Karen felt honoured that she’d earned a genuinely content expression from him. Frank deserved more than pain and Karen would go to every single length in order to remind him of it. “She sounds like she was spoiled,” Karen replied fondly. “But if she liked it, I’m very happy it that she got it. Of course you didn’t mind it, you were providing for the people you loved.” To Karen, it made perfect sense that Frank had strove to make his kids happy, complying with their picky palates. She had never intended to be a parent, but she had loved Kevin enough to do similarly if it were required. “I’ll have to get you to cook something for me soon,” she said with a smile. Karen believed that Frank would never lie to her, he was an honest man, too haunted to bother with lies, though she doubted Frank would be prone to lying under any circumstances. “You’d be surprised how many busy people find the time,” she said bitterly. Matt in particular had always lied to her, and while Karen had no doubt that she had loved him, moving on from Matt was easy as a result. As Frank sighed, Karen glanced over at him and smiled, pleased that he seemed to enjoy their close proximity. “I don’t think I know how to only make friends anymore,” she said quietly. It was a sad truth, but one Karen was slowly growing accustomed to. “It keeps you alive,” she replied simply. “I don’t want to lose you.”

After he started out on his quest for vengeance, it hadn’t taken long for Frank to make a name for himself. It hadn’t taken long for the police to realize that it wasn’t an army taking out the gangs in Hell’s Kitchen, hadn’t taken them long to learn that it was a single man. They hadn’t known his reason then, hadn’t known what drove him to do what he did. They hadn’t even known his name. That was how he’d gotten stuck with the Punisher bullshit, how he’d gotten pegged with some goddamn vigilante moniker he’d never wanted. Back then, pretty much everyone had been afraid of him. It didn’t change when he was caught, didn’t go away when he was a man beaten half to death and handcuffed to a hospital bed. The nurses had been skittish every time they came into his room, the doctors had stayed a good three feet away from his bed unless they actually needed something from him, the guard stationed outside his door always had one finger on the trigger. Everyone who came into that room was afraid of Frank except Karen. Karen, she’d been inside his house. She’d seen what made him who he was, looked through his things to understand what he’d lost. She’d spoken to him like a person, like he was a human being instead of a caged animal. Frank never quite knew how to react to that, didn’t know how to feel anything but grateful. It was the first thing other than anger that he’d felt in such a long time that he almost didn’t know how to handle it.

He was still grateful now, still thinking of how much he owed her. Murdock was the one who dragged him out of the Irish’s hideout, the one who’d called an ambulance for him and refused to let him bleed out in that graveyard, but Karen was the person who’d saved him. She was the first one who’d ever seen Frank Castle through the Punisher, and that was exactly why he couldn’t kiss her now. He owed her too much to drag her down with him, no matter how much he wanted to. Karen deserved the world, and Frank was too broken to give it to her. “No?” He repeated the word softly, mouth still forming around it when her lips touched his. A better man would have pulled away, would have let her go, but fuck, Frank didn’t know how. He leaned in to the kiss, putting a hand on her waist and holding her as close as he could. The first time he’d kissed Maria, it was like jumping in a pool on the first day of summer. Cold, heart-stopping, with that brief moment of terror dating back to prehistoric times, the fear you might drown. Karen, though… Karen was all heat, like smoke in his lungs. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t pull away. When she finally pulled back, he blinked, swallowing. “That was more than okay,” he said, a little breathlessly. She’d knocked the wind right out of him with it, he realized. "Did you… uh, did you mean that?” It was almost painful, offering her the out, but he knew it was the right thing to do. If she wanted to take it back, he’d let her. It’d kill him, but he’d let her.

Her smile was goddamn contagious, and Frank couldn’t help but let his widen at the sight of it. Karen had a way of doing that, a talent for making him smile no matter how heavy the weight in his chest felt. “I think so,” he agreed, selfishly loving the idea of speaking to her more often, of hearing from her on a daily basis. What they had now was good, but it didn’t feel like enough. He wanted most with her, even knowing he didn’t deserve it. She didn’t speak as he talked about his dad, didn’t interrupt or say a word until he was finished. He looked up at her with the ghost of a smile on his face, raising a brow. “I think you’re just about the only person that thinks that,” he told her quietly. Frank knew he wasn’t a good man, and he’d made peace with it. When she spoke, he looked over, a little surprised at the confession. “I’m sorry,” he said gently, reaching down to take her hand carefully. After he woke up in the hospital with a row of tombstones instead of a family, he’d learned that there was a hell of a difference between pity and sympathy. Pity did little more than piss him off, and he knew Karen would feel similarly. “You figure it out? What happened to him?” It explained her need for the truth, explained why she chased it so adamantly. She needed the truth for her brother, for Frank’s family, for everyone who’d ever been forgotten by the people who were meant to look out for them. He snorted as she spoke again, shaking his head. “You got jokes, huh? You funny now?” There was a teasing lilt to his tone, something he seemed to save exclusively for Karen. “Those dogs smell all right, considering.” Not much he could do to wash them living in a warehouse, after all. “You think he just took over?” Frank’s brow furrowed at the possibility. “Who gave it to him? Who has that kind of power? And why didn’t anyone realize it?”

Truthfully, Karen had never entirely known what fuelled her to look deeper into the Punisher case. She had suspicions, but introspection was difficult, and the choices she made leading up to entering Frank’s home had been reckless. When she first negotiated to peek at his files, she risked angering the DA, affecting Foggy and Matt in the process. Unfortunately, that hadn’t gone well, and it definitely hadn’t been safe. After she witnessed the sheer injustice that she had found regarding Frank’s injuries and broke into his home, she wasn’t entirely sure what kind of man the Punisher was, although he had spared her life. Perhaps what fuelled her was as simple as that: finding justice, seeking the truth, but Karen understood herself far better than to completely believe that. Karen’s motives were honourable, but only to an extent. Frank losing his family and battling for answers and ensuring no one else lost what he had reminded her of herself years ago, chasing every single lead in Kevin’s death that she possibly could. His obsession mirrored her own, albeit far more violently, and the recognition had helped Karen defy the odds and fight for Frank Castle when no one else would. He was human, he deserved sympathy if no one was capable of empathy.

Loss and obsession were dangerous things to bond over, but rather fuel each other’s unhealthiness, Karen and Frank supported each other. They realized who the other person was beneath their disguises and guards and they were battling the odds, attempting to find justice that no longer existed in either of their circumstances. The law ignored Karen’s case entirely and corruption had disgustingly been eradicated the evidence in Frank’s case. Together, they could find peace, Karen hoped, although she was more than aware that Frank would most likely never settle. Where Karen had every intention of working through the trauma she had repressed, Frank seemed determined to remember his family indefinitely. It was lonely, it was heartbreaking, but Karen rarely felt so intensely about someone — especially someone honest and respectful — and she had every intention of being with him if possible, regardless of how short their relationship would be. When Frank kissed her back, Karen wasn’t at all surprised. Their feelings were obviously mutual, neither had bothered disguising it, and kissing Frank reminded Karen of life outside her pursuit for truth. Her mind had been so consumed with finding answers about the Castle, about President Doom, and about Kevin that she had never once considered the connections she was missing out on. It was breathless, it was wonderful, and in the end, it would only lead to loneliness. She cared for a man that would never surrender memories of the family he had lost. “Good,” Karen replied, ignoring her doubts. “I meant that and before you try to inform me it’s a terrible idea, I already know and I don’t care.” Strangely, her words reminded her of Matt when he had warned her. Frank most likely wouldn’t, he understood that Karen made her own choices, thank god. “If you had any intention of warning me, that is,” she added.

Hearing Karen’s voice was something that always cast Matt back in time. Often it was to the first night that they had met. He hadn’t been lying when he told her he thought about it often, even now, when they spoke mostly as acquaintances, perhaps if he was lucky as old friends. Sometimes, it was to the Christmases, Easters and Thanksgivings he had spent with her and Foggy, the shutter of the camera taking a photo for her to set on her desk, the smell of food heavy and comforting in the air. Family was something that Matt hadn’t really experienced before Karen and Foggy, and now, he was realising just how important they had been to him. Protecting New York was something that they had to understand was necessary, but of course, they knew nothing of the threats that he was facing at the time. Matt had sat across from Foggy in Josie’s and he had said that he had no idea where to begin, and Foggy had said, ‘Just begin, Matt.’ Now, he figured it was the same thing all over again. Just find a truth, one piece of it, and start there. There was never going to be a perfect time to explain, but he had to do it soon, he had been putting it off far too long.

“My boss will literally explode if I lose this case. Spidey agreed to look over the Kitchen for a few nights until I get caught up,” he explained. “Thanks for the faith. An eighteen year old kid set off some explosions in a soccer field. No devices were found, so the state thinks he might have been a mutant. I don’t want to prosecute him for something he couldn’t control.” Matt’s abilities were good in that regard, in that he couldn’t hurt anyone but himself through their use. “Only a little. Bruising, mostly.” Karen had been through so much since Matt had first met her, it was no surprise that she preferred to be out rather than spending her nights at home. “Yeah,” Matt said softly. “I get that.” He paused for only a moment, shuffling on his feet. “I know this probably isn’t the time or place, but I guess there isn’t really a good version of either of those to do this.” Not a great start. He got paid to talk for a living! “I never told you the whole story of what happened a year back. Never really told you anything about it, actually. I was wondering if you wanted to talk about it.” Matt swallowed thickly. “Or if you want to leave it, I understand.”

Understandably, Karen worried about Matt often. Daredevil wasn’t the most careful vigilante she had witnessed, he was frequently beaten and bruised, and that was only what Karen had seen in a professional environment. She couldn’t imagine what Matt looked like outside of work, all the scrapes, the horrific, half-healed injuries. That had been before the demons took to the streets, Karen had personally witnessed Matt pursuing the monsters, prepared to defend her and the public from their reign of terror. Daredevil obviously was well trained, but sometimes, working alone, it didn’t matter how many years of experience you had. Outnumbered and overwhelmed, people died, and Karen had personally experienced crippling loss. Matt was no longer the man she was in love with, that had changed the moment she discovered he had lied to her for seemingly no good reason, but Karen would always love Matt as she loved family. He and Foggy had given her a place to belong when Karen had no one else.

@karcnpcge

 He should’ve known better. Should’ve guessed. His last night with Karen had been way too normal. They’d actually found the time to have a drink at Josie’s, like it used to be – and he should’ve known. The world did not give away those moments of normalcy without extracting a high price. He didn’t realize he was paying – had been paying it, apparently, for some time. 

It took him a few days to process what Frank told him. (And that it had been Frank to tell him. Since he was not, in fact, dead.) But finally, he found himself outside Karen’s apartment, banging on the door until she answered, looking bewildered. “Ran into an old friend of ours,” he announced, walking inside. “Well, not friend. Client. But you know, instead of the usual pleasantries and small talk, we had to talk about why he’s not dead,” he said pointedly. “And how you knew about it.” 

After everything that Karen had survived recently, when someone was frantically banging on her door, she was understandably confused and panicked. Her safety had been an issue on numerous occasions and whilst she highly doubted that anyone attempting to murder her would knock, Karen clasped her gun in her hand and hid it behind her back when she went to answer the door, heart pounding. When she saw that it was Foggy through the peephole, she breathed a sigh of relief and concealed the gun in her pants, hidden beneath her shirt. Foggy would never hurt her, but he was most likely angry at her and that was hardly ideal. Opening the door, Karen prepared herself for his line of questioning, unsure what it was about.

With the school year drawing to a close and the school boards unable to put exams on without invigilators arriving from outside the city, Sue’s job was currently null and void, at least in regards to her teaching career. Getting off for the summer was typically something that she looked forward to, knowing that the days and weeks would fill up almost immediately with potential research projects, new books to read or missions with the Fantastic Four (the heat made everyone monumentally more irritated, and super villains were not exempt from that). Now that the summer was indefinite, Sue was less enthused, but at least the team had provided her with enough to keep her busy, and she had some time leftover to spend with her friends.

“I’ll go for the sweet potato variant,” Sue said, scanning down through the menu. Food was something that they had been worrying about only a few weeks ago, and now it seemed as if Doom had solved that issue as well. Sue wondered why she still felt so sceptical to the whole situation, all things considered. “Gin has really taken off, hasn’t it? Johnny brought back some pink gin last week, and I swear, I thought it was strawberries.” She was always cautious about drink, preferring to avoid it entirely where she could considering her father, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have a few now and again. “The schools have gotten off for the summer, so I’m just trying to think of a way to keep my students interested in studying until we can get back to earth and do the exams.” Sue laughed, shaking her head. “Missions have mostly been Mole Man or demons, and the dates I’ve been in are too terrible to speak of. What about you? Any interesting stories, or someone you want to tell me about?” Sue wiggled her eyebrows at her friend, lifting her drink to her lips when the bartender pushed it across.

“Good choice,” Karen said approvingly. “We can always share,” she added, having every intention of snagging a few sweet potato fries. Food had been found in the wasteland, same with potential farmland, but that didn’t necessarily ensure that they would be able to successfully keep New York fed. Karen intended to indulge while it was certain that she could. “Gin is really popular right now. There’s lots of distilleries in the city, that could be why.” They never had to import that, thank god, and that meant that the population could continue drinking. Karen was always wary of ingesting too much alcohol, not because of her tolerance, but because of her dependence, but she did want to witness angry, sober New Yorkers. “Do you think any of them really will?” Karen asked, mildly amused by the idea of teenagers willingly studying. It sounded completely unreal, even to Karen whom had been a good student once upon a time, let alone young adults. “Those are still good missions!” She replied, meaning every word. The Fantastic Four were continuing their jobs, that was incredible. “Sorry about the dates though. Stories are all a work in progress, it’s hard to find evidence, people are good at hiding. No one to speak of,” she lied, trying to remain casual about Frank. Mentioning her feelings for a man technically dead and a serial killer was problematic. “You can always help me find evidence. Invisibility is good for stealth,” Karen said with a smile.