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Staring up at the cracked, yellowed plaster of the motel room ceiling, Frank let the heaviness of his limbs finally sink into the mattress.
He was exhausted. No point denying it. He had been on the road for months now, trying to find something to hold onto. He had taken out every last vestige of the gangs that had killed his family, every former friend who had betrayed him, and since then, he had been adrift. It wasn’t so easy, after all, to find his after .
And there it was. No matter how hard he tried to keep his mind on other things, something always brought him right back to Karen Page.
If he closed his eyes, right now, he knew he would see her face. It had startled him, when it had started happening. When he met Karen, when he was spending his days chasing down scumbags and using every ounce of violence in his body to relieve the darkness that threatened to swallow him whole, all he saw was Maria and the kids. He had relived that day in the park more times than he could count, so many times that it was almost all he could remember.
Until Karen came blazing into his hospital room and shoved that picture in his face. She forced him to remember something else, something before. He had seen it, even then, the fire blazing in those blue eyes that made it impossible for her to give up on him, on his case.
Even when he came to her, desperate and alone, after months of avoiding everything that reminded him of his case and that time in his life, she hadn’t given up on him. She faced down bombers and guns and more violence than she should ever have had to see, and she did it for him.
Frank had never understood why. She was so good, and she had people who cared about her, but she never let him go, even knowing all the things she knew about him, all the things he had done. She believed in him, in his fundamental goodness, even when he didn’t know how to do that for himself. She had always helped him, no matter the cost, and it had let him finally find the end of the road his vengeance had led him down. He could never repay her for that.
He had left town, after that night at the carousel, after a few sessions with Curt, after deciding he did actually need a break. He needed to find something new, something free of all the history and meaning that lurked in every corner of the city.
Of course, once he got out, he realized how much his ghosts had followed him, no matter where he went. One ghost, in particular, kept him from ever really settling anywhere. That ghost had lingered in the corners of his vision, and reminded him of what he had left behind. He found he didn’t mind remembering, now.
Frank’s phone was in his hand before he had really thought things all the way through. He didn’t have a picture attached to her number, or anything. He hadn’t seen her in almost a year. For all he knew she had moved on, left him behind. She deserved that. She didn’t need to hang on to him. She had plenty in her life besides him. Maybe she and Murdock had worked things out. If they had, he’d be happy for them. Still couldn’t stand Red, but if Karen was happy, that was what really mattered.
He shouldn’t call her. He knew that. Everything in him knew it wasn’t fair for him to call her now, after all this time, after everything that had happened.
But he couldn’t quite put the phone away. He wanted to hear her voice. He wanted to know for sure that she was okay, that she didn’t need him. As much as he knew it was a bad idea, he couldn’t help himself. He needed her. She was the only thing that made sense, somehow. She was the one person who had pulled him through the hardest period of his life, and he couldn’t forget that. He couldn’t forget her. He didn't want to.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he pressed the call button. As it rang, he thought about hanging up, but after leaving the way he did, without even saying goodbye, he couldn’t do it. She deserved better than that. She deserved better than him, but the least he could do was offer her whatever was left of him.
“Hello?” The sound of Karen’s voice washed over Frank, and he felt his heart start to race as all the air went out of his lungs. “Frank? Are you okay?”
Of course, she would think he’d only call because he needed something. Everything in their shared history would make her think that way. It was his fault. He shouldn’t have called.
“Frank?” An edge of panic crept into her voice, and Frank knew he had to say something.
“Karen.” It felt like the only word he knew. “Karen.”
“Frank, are you alright? Where are you?”
“I’m fine. I promise.” He shook his head as he pushed himself to his feet. He needed to move. Something about her voice made him feel restless, unsettled, like he wasn’t where he was supposed to be. “I’m in Michigan, I think.”
“Oh.” If he was willing to label it, and he definitely wasn’t, he might say she sounded disappointed. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, Karen, I’m fine.”
She sighed. “Why are you calling?”
He knew this was a bad idea. He should never have bothered her. “I don’t know.”
He could almost see her, in her apartment, on that couch where he had asked for her help, given her flowers. Where she had hugged him, held onto him like he was as important to her as she is to him. She was probably pushing her hair out of her face, fingers tangling in the long, blonde strands.
“It’s good to hear from you.” Her voice was soft, quiet, in that way it got sometimes when she was tired. She worked so hard to be tough, to be strong, to defend herself against the world, but deep down, she was gentle. She had always been so gentle with him, especially when he didn’t deserve it.
“Yeah?” He sat down on the bed again, all his restless energy ebbing out of him the longer they talked. “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine, Frank.” He could hear the half-smile in her voice, that same one she used when she didn’t want anyone to see how much she was hurting. He was hurting her. He hated it.
“I’m coming back,” he said, words slipping out before he could stop them. “I’m coming home.”
“Really?” He didn’t want to hope that she sounded excited. He couldn’t hope for that. He didn’t deserve it.
“Yeah. I think I’m ready.”
“I’m happy for you, Frank.”
“Call you when I’m home?” He kept saying it, and the more he did, the more he realized that that was what he had been missing. Whatever he had been looking for, his home wasn’t out here, in the middle of the country. It was in the city. It was wherever Karen was.
“Yeah. I’d like that. It would be good to see you. Make sure you’re really in one piece.” She huffed out a chuckle. “Not sure I believe that you’re fine.”
“Can’t blame you for that.”
“I’ll see you soon?” The question echoed in Frank’s head and he felt sure that this was the right decision.
“Yes. You will.”
“Okay, Frank. Good night.”
“Night, Karen.”
Hanging up felt strange, like he was missing something, but he didn’t have time to overthink it. He had to pack up and get on the road. He had told Karen he would be home soon, and he wouldn’t let her down. Not again.
He had to go home.