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Frank. That was the name embedded on your skin since the day you were born. Your soulmate. Usually, people would be excited about meeting their soulmates. You? Not even the slightest.
Why?
Your soulmate’s name was faded. That meant that he had another. What kind of sick joke was this? What was the point of giving everyone a soulmate when you couldn’t even be with yours?
So you said fuck it. You didn’t care about your soulmate. You couldn’t care less about him. You rarely thought about him once you grew up and moved to New York. Specifically Hell’s Kitchen.
The first few months after moving to Hell’s Kitchen was a struggle for you. You really didn’t have much of a plan once you got there. For a couple of weeks, you stayed in a hotel until you found a reasonably priced apartment. You eventually found one and decided to rent it out. Then it came to job hunting. None of these big businesses didn’t want to take you and give you a chance. So what did you settle with? Being a waitress in a diner a couple of blocks from where you lived.
It was a boring job. You didn’t get paid much unless you flirted with some of the customers and they would give hefty tips. Ugh. Gross. After one bad particular instance where a guy actually put his hands on you, you were ready to give up. You came stomping into your apartment mumbling to yourself, “Fuck this. Fuck that. Fuck all of this. I give up on life.”
“Looks like you’re in quite the predicament.” You gasped loudly as you faced the dark corner of your apartment. You realized that your window was open.
“W-Whatever you want, take it and leave.”
“I’m not here to rob or hurt ya, sweetheart. Just need a lil’ help.” the deep, gravelly voice of the man seemed a bit familiar to you, but you didn’t know why.
“Who are you?” You heard shuffling and the man walked forward into the light. Your eyes widened when you realized who it was.: Frank Castle aka The Punisher.
“Pretty sure you know who I am.” The man’s face was bloody and beat up. He looked like he was hanging on by a thread.
You don’t know what came over you, but you decided to help him. You slowly walked to him and took him by the hand. You led him to your bathroom. You put the toilet seat cover down and gestured it to him.
You knelt down and retrieved the first aid kit under the sink as well as a hand towel. You damped the towel and began to wipe away the blood and sweat from his face. He winced and hissed when you touched the deeper wounds.
“Sorry,” you mumbled.
“It’s fine.” Frank stared at you while you continued to clean his face, “Sorry for spookin’ ya. I had to get out fast and your window was the only one open.”
“The police were after you?”
“No. The Russians. Tracked them down to their little hideaway. An abandoned warehouse were they were operating their sex trafficking organization. Was found. Managed to get most of them, but obviously not without a scratch.”
You set down the towel on the sink counter, “Why are you telling me this? You don’t even know me. I could be working for the police or something.”
Frank chuckled, “If you were, you’d have tried to kill me by now. Besides, you’re still wearing your uniform from the diner. I’ve seen you a couple times there.” He stuck out his hand, “Frank Castle.”
You slowly took his hand and shook it, “Y/N L/N.”
Frank shyly smiled, “See? Now we-fuck!” He cried out when he felt his wrist on fire. You then hissed when you felt the same sensation. You looked at your wrist to see that Frank’s name was now in bold black.
“Oh shit,” you muttered.
Frank held out his wrist to show that the name, Maria, that adorned his wrist was now changing into your name, “Well I’ll be damned.”
“My soulmate is a murderer,” you muttered to yourself.
Frank rolled his eyes, “With good reason, sweet cheeks.”
You sighed, “I don’t suppose I can’t get rid of you now, can I?”
Frank shrugged, “Guess not.”
“Well…after I finish cleaning and bandaging you up, you wanna stay for dinner?”
“Why not.”