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To Karen, it seemed there were few things more lonely than walking through New York on Halloween by yourself. Storefronts lit up in neon, illuminating all the girls and boys wrapped in intricate wings and leather. Glitter falling from their steps as they walked. Their arms wrapped around each other, laughing and smiling. They all had somewhere to go. Foggy was at his office party, playing a role Karen didn't like and god knows where Matt was. Probably out somewhere getting his teeth knocked out. Karen shook her head at the thought, not thinking about that today. Karen was used to the loneliness in a way, like a scar that healed sideways. Some days it ate at her more than others. She was hoping the large and extremely cheap bottle of rosé could remedy that.
Karen was in a bad mood as she walked upstairs to her apartment. Her steps had creaked loudly the whole ascent, and that really annoyed her for some reason. In the back of her brain she knew that she was in that kind of humour where everything was going to annoy her no matter what. Inside finally, she pops the bottle. It comes off smoothly and Karen thinks finally, something I can get right. She drinks one glass fast. And another faster. She sits down for her third glass, albeit on the kitchen floor. She didn’t know why she felt this bad tonight. Most days she was able to rationalise her feelings. Friends grow apart, that’s normal, she tells herself. The loneliness will pass. But right now it feels like she’s lost everyone she cares about. It feels like she has nobody in the whole world, well nobody but-.
A tiny knock at the door makes Karen knock over her glass. She was jittery when tipsy. And also when she wasn’t. She pats her bag, slips her gun down the band of her skirt. She takes small steps towards the door. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She lays her thumb on the weapon as she peeks through the hole on the door. The man she sees on the other side is instantly sobering. Her hands shake as she fiddles with the locks. She’d gotten more installed as a precaution, though she knew they wouldn’t save her if it came down to it. It seems like an age when the door finally creaks open.
“Frank?” Karen says. It comes out like a question.
Frank looks more dishevelled than her. Hair all messed up and dried blood stuck to his lip. She mentally catalogues him to check for any more injuries. Nothing life threatening, she thinks for a second and then hates herself for it.
“Page. I just, uh, wanted to check in on you”.
Karen feels her cheeks redden as easily as they did when she was a child. Frank has this way of saying things, all intense like he means what he says and more. Normally Karen can write it off as quickly as it comes, but tonight .
She backs away from the door, gestures awkwardly with her hands. She’s uncomfortably unsure of what to say. “Would you like a glass of wine?”.
Frank shakes his head. He looks huge in her tiny apartment, it’s almost comical. Broad shoulders, head ducked down like a friendly giant. Fuck.
“It’s terrible and tastes like fizzy piss?” Karen attempts lightness and it definitely comes out sort of light.
“Well, in that case how can I say no?”. A little smile pulls his lips up. About a second later he notices and a scowl takes over again.
Karen fetches another glass, grateful her hands have mostly stopped their shaking. As she’s about to hand the cup over her foot slips in the puddle from when Frank knocked. Franks there in a beat. Strong hands gripping her waist, making her solid. Karen tenses and melts all at the same time. He must’ve grazed the gun but doesn’t say anything as he lets her go, only shooting a pensive look her way.
“So…no Halloween plans?” Karen wondered what you were supposed to say to a traumatised veteran who’s killed more people than some world leaders. Even if they’d bonded over time, there was always this invisible bridge between them. Sometimes Karen felt like she knew the reason why and most of the time she told herself she was delusional. They really don’t make a handbook for this sort of thing.
“Well, I was gonna dress up as The Punisher but I wasn’t sure how it’d go down.”
Karen chokes out a laugh. Nearly spits out her drink.
“Are you doing alright Karen?” He asks, suddenly serious. “I’ve been thinking about you. Worrying about you”. His eyes shoot to the mostly empty bottle of rosé.
There he goes again, saying things that aren’t really things. Karen is suddenly self conscious of her glass. She wants to say that one bottle of rosé barely gets her brain to slow down, let alone get her drunk. But that doesn’t seem as comforting as she’d like.
“Well…don’t. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I’ve got everything under control. Really.” Lie, lie and big big lie.
“Yeah yeah, I saw the locks. And that glued to your side as always.” He points to the gun. “Do you sleep with that thing Karen?”.
She bristles at his slight accusation. “Oh, as if you don’t sleep with an automatic tucked under each arm? You probably can’t close your eyes before you've kissed your rifle goodnight”.
They both stare at each other, mixed tension and concern before breaking out into laughs. Frank looks beautiful when he laughs. Bashful like a kid, who’s never been hurt. Karen wonders why she thinks these things.
A large explosion shocks them both from their easy laughter. Frank dives for Karen, arms wrapped so tight she thinks she might burst. He even covers her ears. This annoys and scares her. She wants to throw him off and climb on top of him instead. She wants to cover his ears. It’s only when they see the bright burst of colour through Karen’s window that they remember it’s Halloween.
Now they really laugh. Tears streaming down their faces. Frank actually has to slap his chest to keep his breath. Karen can’t even peel herself off the ground.
“God”. She says. “We’re so fucked up”.
“Yeah” Frank agrees because it’s true.
Frank settles himself down onto the ground beside Karen. “Were you ever into this thing?”
It takes her a second to realize what he’s talking about. “Halloween? I liked it when I was little, I think. My mom used to go all out, you know. She’d make the costumes herself and everything. Princess dresses, kitty ears. One year she even made an entire historically accurate Elizabeth Bennet costume for me.” Karen’s voice hitches a little bit then. “I was a bit of a weird kid honestly but she never made me feel like that. Don’t really know what I did to deserve her”.
Frank notices the way her eyes tear up. The way she won’t let herself cry. He wants to hold her. He doesn’t.
“Every year until it was no longer socially acceptable and maybe a bit after to be truthful, I dressed up as a rockstar. I’m talkin’ slicked hair, leather jacket, hell, leather pants too. I would take my little acoustic guitar and pretend I was playing Hendrix for hours.” Frank laughed heartily. “I looked a damn fool but nobody could tell me differently. Some of my happiest memories though”.
Karen smiled at his attempt to make her feel better. It worked until it didn’t.
“Let’s pretend now, Frank”. Karen’s voice is soft and nervous. She looks him right in the eyes. She doesn’t know what she’s saying. “You can be the safe and normal and handsome rockstar on tour, and I’ll be your adoring fan.”
Frank tries .to brush it off, laughs. “In what world are you my adoring fan? Come on now.”
Karen keeps her intense gaze locked on him. She’s not going to back down now, not tonight.
“I don’t wanna pretend Karen”. Franks voice is gruff now, low. “I don’t think it’s a good idea”.
“Why”. Push him, she thinks. Push him.
“Because I’m not sure I’ll want to stop”.
There it is. That thing that sits between their every conversation. He’s said it. He said it.
Karen moves, though she can’t remember telling herself too. Their already close bodies are truly pushed up against each other now. Karen lifts her head and leans her forehead into his. They don’t kiss. It still seems too far. Even now.
“Please”, Frank pleads. Now Karen understands what’s behind the words.
“I won’t”, she whispers. I won’t but I want to.
They stay like that for a long time, she thinks. Neither saying a thing, afraid to break this fragile thing. She never wants it to end. She can feel his breath on her lips, on her cheeks. His eyelashes brush her skin. It’s so intimate she almost feels naked. Stripped bare.
“Let’s pretend, Frank. Just for tonight”.
He nods slowly. Can’t trust himself to speak. He pulls his head back. Tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. Let’s his hand settle on her cheek.
It’s Karen who moves in, so slow that Frank can stop her if he needs to. He doesn’t. Their lips meet slowly, both hesitantly pushing forward. Karen thinks she’s never kissed someone so gentle before and laughs inside at the thought.
Frank's hands brush through her hair, caress her neck, his touch so light. Karen deepens it, allows her own hands to loop around his neck, trace his chest tentatively. Karen bites his lip, shocks herself with her own boldness. He lets out a groan before pulling Karen so close she’s almost on his lap, his touch still soft but firmer. More sure of itself. His hands wrap around her waist and he kisses her and kisses her as if it’s the only thing that matters. The only thing that's ever mattered.
Karen breaks away to lift off her shirt and instantly regrets it. Frank looks like a deer in headlights, eyes moving wildly. She knew it was too much, too fast. She goes to put it back on, breaking out a little apology.
Frank puts a hand out to stop her, pulls off his own shirt in response. “No, god don’t apologise Karen. You’re fucking perfect . I just don’t think I can-“. His voice breaks off but Karen knows.
“This is enough, Frank. For tonight, this is everything.”
They come together again, lips smashing harder this time. They bite and tease each other. Karen kisses along his jaw and he shudders. Frank leaves a trail down her throat to her shoulder and she shudders harder. They grasp at each other like they’re wasting out of time because they are.
They end up wrapped together, clothed from the waist down but more bare than either have been in years. Karen settles her head on Frank's chest. His scarred and torn skin comfortingly rough on her cheek. She can sense that Frank is maybe crying and holds him a bit tighter. She doesn’t want to wake up tomorrow. She wants to pretend for a little while longer.