Frank Castle x Y/N murdock
Summary: After their devastating reunion, three days pass with nothing but silence. Still haunted by everything left unsaid, you return home only to discover an open window—and someone waiting in the shadows. Frank finally tells you the truth about why he disappeared, revealing the sacrifice he believed he had to make and the secret he carried all those years. Sometimes, love doesn't disappear... it just loses its way home.
Warnings: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence (Referenced), PTSD, Trauma, Crying, Angst, Mutual Pining, Emotional Reunion, Kissing, Frank Castle Being Soft, Fluff, Happy Ending.
Little note: I wrote this chapter with my whole heart, trying to imagine what frank would really say. I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. thank you for being here.
Three days since you had seen him again.
Three days since Matt had dragged you into that abandoned building and forced you to look into the eyes of the man who had shattered your heart without a single goodbye.
Three days, and somehow...
You thought seeing Frank again would bring closure.
Instead, it had ripped open every wound you had spent years trying to stitch together.
Every time you closed your eyes, you saw him.
Looking at you like he'd been carrying the same grief all those years.
You hated that one look had undone years of pretending you were okay.
The elevator doors slid open with a quiet chime, pulling you from your thoughts.
You walked down the hallway toward your apartment, fumbling through your bag for your keys.
Every step was automatic.
You unlocked the door and pushed it open.
The moment you stepped inside...
Your eyes immediately darted toward the living room window.
You always locked every window before leaving.
Because Frank used to lecture you about it.
"Never make it easy for someone to get to you, sweetheart."
At first, you'd rolled your eyes every time he checked the locks behind you.
One of the few habits you'd never managed to break after he left.
Slowly, quietly, you shut the apartment door behind you.
Without taking your eyes off the living room, your hand slipped beneath your jacket.
The pistol felt cold in your palm.
You had bought it three months after Frank disappeared.
Matt hadn't liked the idea.
But eventually, he'd stopped arguing and started teaching you instead.
How to keep your finger off the trigger until you were certain.
You flicked the safety off.
The soft click echoed through the apartment.
Your pulse thundered in your ears.
You took one careful step forward.
The muzzle tracked the shadows near the hallway.
Your voice came out firm despite the fear tightening in your chest.
A figure slowly stepped out of the darkness.
Your finger instantly relaxed.
He stood there beneath the warm kitchen light, both hands lifted in surrender.
You barely recognized him.
The thick beard was gone.
His hair had been cut short.
The wild, exhausted appearance he'd had three days ago had disappeared, replaced by something cleaner.
Still unmistakably Frank.
Still carrying the same tired eyes.
Still wearing that old black jacket.
But he looked like a man trying to become someone he hadn't been in a very long time.
You lowered the gun slowly, letting out a shaky breath.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"You broke into my apartment."
"You scared the hell out of me."
Your grip tightened around the pistol again.
Silence settled between you.
Neither of you seemed to know where to begin.
You finally walked to the coffee table and carefully placed the pistol down.
The click of metal against wood sounded painfully loud.
When you turned back toward him...
He was still standing exactly where he'd been.
But he hadn't taken a single step closer.
As if he didn't think he deserved to.
Your arms folded across your chest.
"What are you doing here?"
His eyes searched your face for a long moment before dropping to the floor.
"I came to say somethin'."
"You already said everything you wanted to say."
That one word hit him harder than any punch ever could.
Silence stretched between you again.
Because it reminded you of every night you'd spent sitting alone in this apartment, hoping to hear his footsteps outside the door.
"You don't get to come in here and pretend nothing happened."
Your voice came out sharper this time.
He slowly lifted his head.
You took another step toward him.
"You have no idea what that did to me."
A second later, he tried once more.
You cut him off before he could finish.
"You can't imagine what it was like walking into that apartment and realizing everything that reminded me of you was gone."
You pointed toward the bedroom.
"I thought you were dead."
Your voice trembled despite every desperate attempt to keep it steady.
"Do you know what it's like waking up every single day wondering... where your body might be?"
His eyes slowly fell shut.
His breathing became slower, heavier.
"I spent days... days, Frank... trying to figure out what could've happened to you."
Silence settled between you again.
When Frank finally spoke, his voice was so quiet you almost didn't hear it.
A bitter laugh escaped you.
"You really think that's enough?"
The answer came immediately.
His hands curled into trembling fists at his sides.
Then, for the first time since he walked out of your life...
Frank looked directly into your eyes.
There was no anger there.
"I've replayed that morning in my head..."
"...every damn day since I left."
"I should've looked you in the eye..."
"...and I should've let you hate me to my face."
He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, visibly struggling to find the words.
His voice barely rose above a whisper.
"...I wasn't strong enough."
The ache in your chest only deepened.
You had imagined this moment a thousand different ways.
You imagined screaming at him.
Slamming the door in his face.
All you could see was the man you had loved.
Standing in the middle of your apartment.
Looking just as broken as you felt.
The apartment fell silent again.
The city carried on outside your windows—distant sirens, traffic, someone laughing on the street below—but inside, it felt like the whole world had stopped breathing.
Frank looked everywhere except at you.
At the pistol resting on the coffee table.
"I know 'sorry' doesn't fix it," he said quietly. "I know."
You swallowed the lump in your throat.
"I didn't come here thinkin' you'd forgive me."
Frank took a slow breath.
Because he had rehearsed this.
But now that he was standing in front of you...
None of the words came out right.
His voice was barely above a whisper.
He let out a shaky breath.
"...Been hearin' those words in my damn head ever since."
Frank rubbed a hand over his face before finally forcing himself to look at you.
"I couldn't stay away anymore."
"You wanna know why I left?"
"I've wanted to know every single day."
His fingers flexed at his sides.
Your expression hardened.
The words landed like a knife.
"But you don't understand."
He finally stepped closer.
Not enough to invade your space.
Just enough that you could see the exhaustion carved into every line of his face.
"I... I go fuckin' crazy just thinkin' about somebody puttin' a hand on you."
His breathing became uneven.
"My head... it starts goin' places."
"I start thinkin' about who I'd have to kill."
A broken, humorless laugh.
"I hate that that's the first thing my mind does."
"I kept tellin' myself..."
"...you'd get to have a life."
Sem que as pessoas te usem para chegar até mim."
He finally looked back at you.
"I would've rather hated myself every damn day..."
The apartment felt too small.
Too full of things neither of you had ever said.
Frank took another breath.
"I never stopped watchin' over you."
"I waited until you got home."
"I watched this apartment."
He glanced toward the window.
"The roof across the street."
"I knew every light you turned on."
His eyes filled with tears he refused to let fall.
"I knew what time you got home from work."
"What nights Matt stayed late."
"What nights Karen walked you home."
You felt your knees weaken.
"You just couldn't see me."
He wiped at his face with the heel of his hand.
"You really think I was gonna let you be out there alone?"
The tears you'd been holding back finally spilled over.
His entire expression crumbled.
The nickname shattered something inside you.
He instinctively took a step forward before stopping himself.
As if he wasn't sure he still had the right.
"If... if somebody had touched you..."
His voice trembled violently now.
"If somebody had killed you..."
His shoulders shaking almost imperceptibly.
"I don't know what I'd have done."
"I would've hunted down every son of a bitch involved."
"...the way I lost Maria."
He had almost never spoken her name.
"I couldn't survive that again."
His voice broke completely.
"Even if that meant watchin' you fall in love with somebody else."
"...I never got to hold you again."
He laughed weakly through tears.
Trying—and failing—to stop yourself from crying.
Frank took another slow step.
Still leaving enough space for you to walk away if you wanted.
"You think I didn't miss you?"
His voice rose for the first time.
"I missed hearin' you complain about the coffee."
"The way you'd steal my hoodies."
"The way you'd fall asleep halfway through a movie."
"The way you'd yell at me for leavin' dishes in the sink."
He smiled through wet eyes.
The tears streamed freely down your face now.
"So why didn't you come back?"
He looked at you for a long moment.
"Because I thought loving you meant lettin' you go."
The silence between you wasn't painful anymore.
You slowly closed the distance between you until only a few inches remained.
Your hand slowly reached for his.
"...I never stopped loving you."
Frank stared at your trembling fingers before carefully taking your hand, as though he were afraid you might disappear if he held on too tightly.
His thumb brushed gently across your knuckles.
"I never stopped either."
Your forehead rested against his.
You could finally breathe.
The words came so quietly they almost disappeared into the silence.
A tear rolled down your cheek as you smiled through your crying.
He let out a shaky laugh.
The kind of laugh that only came after surviving something impossible.
Almost asking for permission...
He wrapped his arms around you.
You buried your face against his chest exactly the way you used to.
Frank held you like he was terrified the world would steal you away if he loosened his grip.
He wasn't going anywhere.
Frank's hands were still resting carefully against your waist, as if he was afraid that holding you any tighter would make you disappear.
You couldn't stop crying.
The tears came quietly now, no longer born from anger, but from relief.
From the unbearable weight that had finally slipped off your shoulders.
You had dreamed about this.
You had dreamed about him standing in front of you again more times than you could count.
Never with his forehead resting against yours.
Never with his arms around you.
Never with him whispering that he loved you.
Your fingers slowly curled into the fabric of his jacket.
The familiar black leather.
You remembered this jacket.
You remembered burying your face against it after long days at work.
You remembered how it always smelled like gunpowder, soap and him.
You let out another shaky breath.
The words came out broken.
His voice was barely a whisper.
A small laugh escaped through your tears.
Your fingers tightened around his jacket.
"I forgot what it felt like..."
Something inside Frank shattered.
His arms instinctively pulled you just a little closer.
Just enough to remind himself...
His nose brushed softly against yours.
His eyes searched your face.
Like he still couldn't believe you'd let him stand this close after everything he'd done.
The question was so quiet you almost didn't hear it.
His thumb gently brushed away another tear from your cheek.
His rough fingertips lingered there for a second.
Your heart nearly stopped.
The man who had never been afraid to throw himself into gunfire.
Who had stood in front of impossible odds without flinching.
Because after everything...
He wasn't sure you still wanted him.
Your lips trembled into the smallest smile.
He let out the faintest laugh.
You answered the only way you could.
By closing the tiny distance between you.
Like both of you were terrified the moment would disappear if either one moved too fast.
Frank didn't deepen the kiss.
He simply stood there, eyes closed, breathing you in as if he'd been deprived of air for years.
One of his hands slowly rose to cradle your face.
His thumb brushed away another tear that escaped during the kiss.
When you finally pulled back...
You were both smiling through tears.
He rested his forehead against yours again.
A quiet, breathless laugh escaped him.
"...How perfect you feel."
Fresh tears filled your eyes.
"I spent every damn night wondering if I'd ever get to do that again."
His thumb traced your cheek once more.
"And it was worth waiting every second."
You smiled, crying all over again.
A soft chuckle escaped him.
"You put us through hell."
You sniffled, trying to glare at him through watery eyes.
His smile grew just a little.
"...I'd be worried if you weren't."
Frank stared at you for a moment, completely mesmerized.
"I've missed that laugh."
He leaned forward once more and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to your forehead.
Just full of every word he'd never been able to say.
When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours again.
"I ain't leaving this time."
He gently squeezed your hand.
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
You smiled through the tears, your forehead still resting against his.
"I don't ever want to lose you again."
Frank's expression softened in a way you'd only seen a handful of times in your entire life.
It wasn't a promise made lightly.
Every word he spoke carried the weight of an oath.
His hand found yours again, intertwining your fingers slowly, carefully, as though he was relearning something he'd spent years believing he'd never deserve again.
For a while, neither of you spoke.
You simply stood there in the middle of your apartment.
The apartment that had felt painfully empty for so many years.
It finally felt like home again.
Outside, the rain had begun to fall, gentle drops tapping against the windows.
Frank glanced toward it before looking back at you.
A crooked smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"...Still forget to close the curtains at night?"
You let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head.
"I learned from the best."
"You never really left, did you?"
Frank looked down for a moment before meeting your eyes again.
His thumb brushed absentmindedly over your knuckles.
"I was just waiting until I found my way back to you."
Another tear escaped, but this one felt different.
You leaned up, pressing one last gentle kiss against his lips.
When you pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours once more, closing his eyes.
For the first time in a long time...
Neither of you was surviving anymore.
Thank you so much for reading!
I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. let me know what you thought in the comments, I'd love to hear your thoughts. 🤍
