Chapter Text
Karen walked carefully down the squeaky linoleum of the hospital hallway, her feet already tired in her worn flats. She moved differently now, there was no getting around it, and the nervous tension pulling her muscles tight didn’t help.
The cop’s eyes landed on her, and she forced a smile onto her face. It didn’t matter how uncomfortable she was. She was a woman on a mission.
First objective: Getting through that damn door.
The hospital was crawling with police officers, and the one guarding the entrance to Frank’s room was still looking at her skeptically. She wasn’t technically a family member, or a doctor, or anyone who had any right to see him. She was a reporter, for heaven’s sake. There was no way in hell they'd let her in.
Well, they wouldn’t, unless she showed them the ace in her bag.
Karen thought there was a pretty good chance that the guard could be convinced to let Frank Castle’s lawyer inside.
Karen wasn’t a lawyer, of course. The idea had never really appealed to her, not since maybe junior high, when she heard her dad make some offhand comment about how a case dominating the headlines was just lining the pockets of rich lawyers, and she filed “become a lawyer” next to “win the lottery” under “ways to get out of Fagan Corners” in her head.
But now Karen loved two lawyers with her whole heart, and lately they’d been coordinating an extensive wooing campaign to get her to come work with them again. The wooing was basically moot at this point — Karen had decided to accept their offer and the increased flexibility that came with it — but she hadn’t told them yet. She would eventually. In the meantime, she enjoyed being buttered up.
Especially because the buttering included a very convincing Nelson, Murdock and Page business card with her name on it. One she could flash at the guard while giving him a bunch of important-sounding bluff about Frank’s Sixth Amendment rights.
Karen was relieved, but not surprised, when her gambit worked. But her mission was far from over.
Second objective: Figure out what the hell was going on with Frank, beyond the obvious Billy Russo drama. For Frank to wind up in the hands of the authorities, he must have gotten really unlucky — or, more likely, he must have had a reason for allowing it.
The second objective was going to be more difficult to accomplish than the first. Not only because Frank was harder to maneuver than some random cop, but also because he was unconscious. He looked even more smashed-up than Karen was prepared for, and that was saying a lot.
Karen could hardly look at Frank lying in a hospital bed and not be thrown back into one of the best and worst times of her life. Somehow, someway, Frank Castle of all people had become heart-wreckingly important to her during that time, and that was why she was here today.
Because Frank mattered. Because maybe she could help him. Because maybe no one else cared like she did.
Because she wasn’t going to be sidelined, damn it.
But for now, there was nothing to do but sit on the sidelines — at Frank’s bedside, waiting for him to wake up.
Fortunately, Karen didn’t have to spend too much time second-guessing herself and spiraling into doubt before Frank decided to rejoin the land of the living. He stirred, his eyes blinking open.
“Frank?” she said immediately, wanting him to know she was there. “Hey. How are you feeling?”
His expression was still fuzzy. “Karen?”
She waited until true awareness snapped into place in his eyes before she spoke again. “It’s kind of familiar, isn’t it?”
He turned his head on the pillow, so he was no longer looking in her direction. She had positioned her chair close to his bed, and she was careful to keep leaning forward as she asked him what happened. He didn’t tell her — that would be too easy.
“You should walk away,” he rumbled instead. But Karen had a Ph.D. in dealing with stubborn men who thought they needed to handle everything without help, and she didn’t budge. She told him she wouldn’t.
“I did it, Karen. I killed three women.”
Karen swallowed hard. So that was it. Why he gave up.
If it was true, it had to be an accident. Accidents weren’t hard when it came to guns. But Frank wasn’t prone to accidents with guns.
And Karen wasn’t prone to believing things without evidence. Her instincts were strong and well-honed through her time as a reporter. There was more to this story — she could feel it. “Maybe I could help.”
“You’re not going to fix this, OK?”
But Karen’s mind was already racing ahead. So much so that she forgot to be careful. So much so that she was hauling herself to her feet before she realized her mistake.
“Jesus Christ.”
Frank’s jaw had literally dropped open. Karen couldn’t really blame him. She was nine months pregnant, two days past her due date, and her midsection was roughly the size of Madison Square Garden.
“Karen, you listen to me. You need to get out of here.” Frank was agitated, pulling at the handcuffs that tethered him to the bed. “This is no place for you, not like that.”
“Most babies are born in hospitals, you know,” she said. “I’m not the home birth type. Give me pain meds and access to a NICU.”
Frank didn’t smile. “Please. I can’t—”
Karen winced as a pressure tightened through her middle, and Frank cut himself off.
“You all right?”
She’d been feeling strange for a while now, with all the stress—
“Just a kick,” she said hastily.
“Got a fighter, huh?” A bit of a smile played across Frank’s mouth now.
“Yeah, my little boxer,” Karen said with a shake of her head. “Battlin’ Baby Murdock.”
Their eyes met at that, and held, long enough that Karen bit her lip. The swirl of feelings was intense, almost overwhelming.
“That was Lisa too,” Frank said finally, looking off into the distance, into memory. “Swore she was gonna kick her way outta there. You find out if it’s a boy or a girl?”
“A little boy.”
“Got a name picked out or you keeping that secret?”
“We keep saying we’re going to sit down and finally decide…” Karen shrugged.
Frank bobbed his head. “Murdock, huh?” His eyebrows quirked. “He know you’re here?”
Karen was completely ready to dodge that question, but instead she jumped as the door swung open.
“He does now,” Matt said.
Matt closed the door behind him and planted his cane in front of him. He gripped the top tightly with both hands, a surefire sign that he was tense. His gold wedding band gleamed in the fluorescent light, and Karen’s eyes flicked to Frank before she crossed the room.
“Matt, I told you that you have to stop hovering,” she whisper-hissed. “I’m fine.”
“Right, OK,” he said in a deliberately indulgent way that set her teeth on edge, “but he’s the Punisher. You have to cut me a break here.”
“Frank wouldn’t hurt me.”
She glanced at the big, bad Punisher and saw a half-smile brightening his face. He was enjoying this.
“Yeah,” Matt conceded, “but who knows who might come after him. And you’ll have to excuse me if I can’t forget that he’s put you in the line of fire before.”
Matt had kept his voice low, but there was no question Frank could hear him. Frank’s face went blank. A mask. “Get her out of here, Red.”
Karen turned to Frank. “I’m not going anywhere. Not until I get more answers.”
“I don’t got ’em. Not the ones you want.”
“Then I’m going to find someone who does.”
“Karen, I know you want to help,” Matt said, “but—”
“You should want to help too. You really are supposed to be his lawyer. And I’d think you’d want to make up for how things went last time.”
Matt’s mouth pursed slightly — she’d hit where it hurt and she knew it, but he was being extra generous with her right now. Guilt needled her, but not hard enough for her to back down.
“I’m happy to provide Castle with whatever legal assistance he requires,” Matt said in his polished lawyer tone. “But as you are not currently employed by Nelson and Murdock, your presence isn’t necessary.”
“That’s a technicality. I have an offer pending.”
Matt’s face changed instantly, a barely restrained eagerness blossoming around his features. “Does that mean you accept?”
Karen let the tiniest bit of a smile soak into her voice. “We’ll discuss that later. Right now we need to focus on your client.”
“Assuming Frank even wants to continue to retain our services.”
They both turned back toward the hospital bed to hear his answer. And that was when they realized Frank had passed out again.