The bench is in a rundown neighborhood, not far from Hell's Kitchen.
Frank stumbled upon it by chance.
The advertisement on the bench is old, heavily worn, and outdated.
It is printed with the phone number and address of their first law firmāthe number is now disconnected, and the address is no longer their office.
Murdock has a new business partner now, renting a spacious, bright office in a trendy downtown district.
Nelson has been gone for years.
Sometimes he comes here to sit for a while.
Thereās no scenery to speak ofāthe only view is the confident smile of the young Murdock on the ad, looking every bit like a bastard lawyer. And that slogan. What a smug, arrogant prick.
It stirs something in him, something like nostalgia.
Sometimes Frank comes here. He doesnāt know if anyone will ever remember to remove this ad. He hopes that day comes later. Itās one of the few wishes he has left.
But even if heās disappointed, he can accept it.
Frank keeps occasional tabs on Murdock. He knows heās still working as a defense attorney, has friends to drink with, a steady dating life, no longer patrolling the streets in his pajama at night, staying far away from politics.
Away from these power struggles, away from tragedies he canāt save.
Blind in the eyes, deaf in the ears.
Murdock would rather let guilt and remorse consume his heart and soul than gamble on his anger being kept in check by reason.
Yesterday, Murdock came to Frankās place to see him.
After all these years, he finally allowed himself to be honest about his feelings.
Maybe for people who have to maintain their social identity, protecting their image in the eyes of others is more important than facing themselves honestly.
Frank despises that kind of hypocrisy.
But he can understand it.
Yet, in what identity did Murdock come? And which version of Frank was he looking for?
Murdock could no longer bear the pain and disgust of living a lieāhe needed a safe place to let it all out.
Thatās all Frank needed to know.
Facing his fury and vulnerability, Frank felt the same anger, sorrow, confusion, and helplessness.
What do you want from me? Who are you?
Consoler Murdock, the defense attorney who once represented felon Frank Castle?
Daredevil, the Punisherās longtime nemesis on his job?
Red, the ally Frank Castle could trust when he was the Punisher?
Or Matthew Murdock, whoās lost too much and is now searching for answers in Pete Castiglione, another man with nothing left?
The funny thing is, Murdockās the one who can detect lies through heartbeat or some ninja trick, yet Frankās always been the one to strip away all his disguisesāand once again, reopen his wounds.
Frank missed the moment to give him an understanding embrace, no matter which identity it was for.
He no longer has any excuse to offer this misplaced comfort under any grand pretense.
Thatās why Frank is sitting here now.
He doesnāt know in what capacity he could ever step back into his life.
Until Frank gets a call. From Karen.
The woman he wanted to protect is now asking him to help the man he also wanted to protect.
He can do itāas the Punisher.
As for which version of Murdock heās dealing with, he doesnāt care.