#roughroad

It was rare that Karen and Frank spent any time out in public together: most of the city was aware of who Karen Page was because of her association with Nelson & Murdock, Daredevil, and Punisher, and of course the world over knew who Frank Castle was. Spending time in New York together was not wise, but here...far away from New York City, away from the blood-soaked streets that they called home, they could enjoy a quiet evening out. They could enjoy a drink at a local bar and to watch the grainy footage of Times Square as people congregated to count down to the New Year.

When the clock struck midnight, Karen had turned to see Frank locked in a kiss with another woman, his hands frozen at her sides, not touching but hovering, and as she pulled away and slapped him on the ass in parting blue eyes narrowed, watching the woman’s friends drag her away. Her jaw ticked once, tight with frustration, and Karen downed the little plastic flute of champagne she had before moving over to the bar.

What the hell was wrong with her? Why was she feeling like...like this? (Jealousy, Karen. It’s jealousy.)

Frank was at her side, but Karen was ordering a double whiskey on the rocks and when she told him to leave her alone, it seemed he realized what she refused to acknowledge. 

Wait, are you jealous?

The night was quiet enough, skin flushed from earlier and hot to the touch, Frank splayed across the bed and Karen sitting upright, her thumb rubbing back and forth absently against the thigh where her hand rested. She didn’t mind the silence that settled between them, focusing on the steady inhale and exhale of breath, on the sound of roughened flesh that drug across her own in mindless patterns against her back.

The cold was beginning to settle into the city, into her bones, and Karen could tell by attitudes and décor alike that the holiday season was fast approaching - if it wasn't for the actual physical reminders out in the world, her own mental reminders were there, those walls she had so carefully constructed around herself beginning to loom in her subconscious, reminding her of the inevitable. Her comment to Frank, while off-cuff, was meant whole-heartedly.

Considering who they were and how they often lived their lives, getting out would be nice. Right?

Frank had other ideas, though, and instead of out, he offered away and Karen paused, studying the man for a moment, weighing out that option in her mind. 

There was enough blood around Karen to be concerning, and the fact her usually pale features were much more wan, sallow, was perhaps the more concerning thing out of it all. What mattered most to Karen though was the fact that Frank had been protected from whatever Billy wanted to do to him. Even if it ended with a knife in her side and her bleeding out, all Karen wanted to do was protect him...and she’d done just that.

Calling Frank in had been her only option, though, and when he appeared, she could hear the panic in his voice. This was her apartment, her little life of quiet safety and once more it had been disturbed (because of him, because of Frank Karen’s world had been turned upside down again). Slumped against the wall closest to the front entryway, Karen listened as Frank spoke, listened to the crinkle of packaging and his deep, urgent request for her to stay with him.

 After everything that had happened, Karen needed some time away from the city, away from her apartment: she’d had to hire crime scene cleaners to come in and work on getting the blood up out of the floor once she’d even been able to move without feeling like she would pass out, and by the time they were done she’d been unable to step into her apartment for over a week alone due to the overwhelming scent of chemical cleaners. A week sequestered in a hotel, another week away from her apartment, and Karen was feeling the effects like she was drowning in the paranoia that came with everything. Matt and Foggy had said to take time off, go somewhere for a week or a week, and Karen had done just that...but she’d done so with Frank in tow (because he was obviously not letting her out of his sight any time soon).

“We are sharing the same space like grown ass adults.” Except said space came with a Queen-sized bed that looked suspiciously smaller than a Queen-sized bed should and a very shitty couch that could accommodate neither but both would fight for.