Chapter Text
News of the infamous Punisher’s death spread like wildfire, and just like a wildfire it eventually died down. A bad taste was still left in the mouth of Hell’s Kitchen’s population which slowly, but surely became a distant, repressed memory like any death would become.
You felt a deep sorrow after finding out of his sudden death seeing that you believed in his cause just as much as you believed in Daredevil’s, but like every other soul in the city, you moved on with your life. It’s not like you personally knew the guy.
It had been a normal couple of weeks in Hell’s Kitchen… Well, as normal as it can get for a barista. You had many reasons to have such an occupation at this well kempt cafe, one of those very reasons being that you wouldn’t have to deal with odd occurrences… Or criminals. In the 4 months that you worked at Javawocky, you were correct in your assumption that this tiny coffee house would attract the least amount of attention. The reason for that was possibly because you had the morning shift and nothing tends to happen in the daytime; or at least nothing too big.
By a turn of fate or merely bad luck, your manager had decided to change up the work schedules at the beginning of the week and now, much to your annoyance, you were stuck being the one to close up the cafe.
An exasperated sigh left your lips, your eyes half lidded as you stood behind the counter with your head propped up on your hand. Your barely completed your first week with this new schedule and you could already tell you’ll continue to suffer more until the next schedule change. Maybe you could even ask your manager to give you back your old shift, you’d grovel if you need to!
“Hey, (Name).” called Dave, your friend and coworker, from behind. “Mugs are all washed. All you gotta do is dry them and put them away.”
“Alright, thanks.” You nodded, waving him goodbye as he headed towards the door. He turned towards you once more, the artificial light bouncing off his pale skin.
“You sure you don’t want me to hang around until your shift is over? I can give you a ride home.” His offer honestly tempted you, but it would have been tedious for him to do so. Your eyes glanced to the clock on the wall that read 10:30 PM only to snort in response.
“Nah, it’s fine. Shift’s over in 45 minutes.” You intertwined your fingers and stretched your arms in front of you.
“It’s not long, I can wai-”
“Dave, I live a block away. Really, it’ll be a waste of time.”
He pursed his lips, eyes narrowing a bit before he shrugged and turned to head out.
“Okay, fine. Just text me once you make it home, will ya?” He huffed.
“Always do!” You called, a smile tugging at your lips as he waved goodbye from the outside.
The coffee house was silent once again, the ticking of the clock quickly irritating you. You huffed and turned to the sink to finish off the work Dave left for you, pulling out a green towel from the front pocket of your tan apron.
The minutes passed by and you were still focused on the mugs, careful not to clink them too roughly as you put them away. Once you put in the last navy blue mug away, you glanced back to the clock on the wall.
10:46 PM
You frowned, facing towards the entrance of the cafe. Everything was still outside save for the passing car that just went by. You looked at the clock once more, hoping that it would magically turn to 11:15 PM.
10:47 PM
You tapped your fingers on the counter for a few seconds, eyeing the entrance again in case someone walked by with a craving for caffeine this late at night.
“No one’s gonna come in. I can just close up for the night. No one’s gonna mind.” You talked aloud. You nodded to yourself, determined to leave within the next few minutes. Setting the towel down on the counter, you stalk towards the door to flip the sign that currently said “OPEN” to “CLOSED”. You stood there for a while before opening the door to a frosty breeze nipping at your nose and cheeks. The street was quiet, not a single person walking on either side of the street. Seems like closing up a bit early wasn’t going to harm anyone after all.
You retreated back into the warm building, not bothering with locking the door since you were about to leave in a bit and went back to cleaning the spilled water around the sink.
A groan of relief escaped your lips as you slipped off your apron to hang in the back room and to punch in your out time. You practically skipped back out to the front, glad to have the night over so you can enjoy your well deserved weekend.
However, the moment was short lived as you skidded to a stop to see a burly man sitting in one of the few tables located by the door. When the hell had he even gotten in? You clutched your red jacket in your fist, looking between the sign on the door that clearly said closed and the man sitting comfortably in the chair that seemed too small for him.
“Uh,” you began, itching to just run out. Freedom was so close! “Sorry, we’re closed for the ni-”
“No, you’re not.” He cut in, rudely.
A frustrated cry stuck in your throat as your eyes snapped to the clock for the fiftieth time that day.
10:53 PM
Well, he isn’t wrong…
You eyed this man with an intense glare, sizing him up. He was well built and wore a glossy, black overcoat which was most likely leather, some combat boots, and jeans just as black as his coat. Your guess was that he was probably just some goth guy on a coffee run for his pals.
Your entire demeanor deflated as you threw your jacket over a nearby chair, grumbling lowly to yourself.
“Ok, what can I get you?” You snapped, way past caring if you were being rude. The guy had cut you off mid sentence two seconds ago, so you can equally be a giant dick as well!
His eyes flickered to you and judging by the way the corner of his eyes crinkled, he was probably smirking. What a prick! He spoke behind the hand that had been covering the lower half of his face, voice gruff.
“Coffee. Black.”
Your only response was a stern nod as you reached for the disposable cups.
“For here.” He added, humor evident in his voice.
You’re hand turned into a fist as you pulled it back, a sour smile crossing your face as you looked at him.
“Sorry, my mistake.” You mumbled, reaching into the cupboards for one of the mugs you had just dried off.
“That’s alright.” He called, voice a little muffled.
You moved as quick as possible, concluding that the faster the coffee was done, the faster this guy would drink it and leave. You cursed the coffee machine under your breath as it drained the coffee out painfully slow.
“Staring at it won’t make it come out any faster.”
The voice seemed to come from straight behind you. You whirled around, completely caught off guard by how close he had gotten. You clutched the counter behind you, elbow knocking the coffee pot from it’s place. Your first instinct, albeit stupid, was to catch the hot pot with your bare hands before it crashed to the ground.
“Don’t-” Exclaimed the man from the other side of the front counter.
Your hands grasped onto the pot from the sides, pain instantly shooting up your arms.
“Ow, f-fuck!” You cried, immediately releasing the pot. To make it worse, the steaming liquid poured onto your shoes before the coffee pot shattered on what used to be clean tiled ground. You jumped back, the beverage seeping through your socks and burning your feet as well.
“Goddammit!” You shrieked, trying your best to hold back a sob.
You had entirely forgotten about the customer until he spoke up again, hastily making his way around to get to your side.
“Be more careful, would ya?!” He pulled you away from the mess he caused, palms hovering over your burnt hands as he tried to figure out how he can help.
You snapped your head up, ready to lash out at him until his bruised and bloody face registered in your mind.
“Wha-” You began, pushing him away and wincing as the raw skin made contact with his chest. “Y-you’re Frank Castle!”
He kept his distance, face turning from a concerned look into that of a scowl once you made the connection. His gaze hardened as you began to back away from him into the broken glass behind you.
“But you’re s-suppose to be d-dead!” You stammered, eyes wide from both the shock and the fright. You took another step back, forgetting about the spilled coffee up until you almost slipped back onto the glass.
“GAH!”
“Watch it!” Frank scolded, reaching forward and pulling you back to your feet where it was dry.
“Please don’t kill me!” You sobbed, injured hands up in a sign of surrender. Your feet and palms were still throbbing, but the thudding sound of your heartbeat in your ears was enough for you to forget about the pain.
Sure, you supported the Punisher all those weeks ago. But it was a distant support! You would never dream of actually meeting the guy! You weren’t stupid! He was still dangerous after all!
“I’m not gonna kill you.” He said calmly, obviously trying to keep his voice low as to not distress you any further. If you kept crying like this, it’d only attract unwanted attention from anyone that was out roaming the streets at this hour.
“Y-you’re not?” You hesitated, shaking hands wiping away at the tears streaming down your cheeks.
He raised an eyebrow at you turning to look out the window before focusing on your tear stricken face once again.
“Just because you have a bad attitude, doesn’t mean you deserve a bullet in ya.”
You sniffed, facing away as he said that. God, you’re such an idiot.
“I’m s-sorry.” You hiccuped, softly.
“Don’t be sorry just yet.”
“Huh?” This caught your attention, eyes narrowing as you tried to decipher what he meant by that. “What do you mean?”
“I need you to go to the back. Hide behind something heavy.” He commanded, his face hardening as he faced towards the outside.
You followed his gaze, assuming that he was staring at the four thugs headed towards the cafe. You froze, noticing the assault rifles in their possession as they crossed the street. They didn’t look like they came here for some hot chocolate.
“Go, now.” Growled Frank, snatching you by the elbow and pushing you into the back room and shutting the door behind you.
“W-wait, hold on! My jacket!” You hissed, deciding against going out and quickly grabbing your jacket.
Your eyes scanned the entire room. There really wasn’t much to protect yourself with. The only thing that looked durable would be the lockers, but they were meant for small possessions coworkers had, not an entire human body to be stuffed inside. You whined, heading towards the only other option left which was the broom and mop closet.
It wasn’t until you shut the door and scrambled over the various cleaning supplies that the deafening shooting began. You covered your ears, the pain in your hands momentarily reminding you it was still there. Why didn’t this damn building have a back door? You’d think the blueprints would have had something about an emergency exit somewhere.
Glass shattering and shouts made their way to where you were situated at. Couldn’t you have left the wet sink for whoever had the morning shift tomorrow? You could have been home, in bed, watching some late night television if you would have just left a little bit earlier! There was a crashing sound from the other side of the door.
‘Oh, fuck.’
One of the thugs was thrown into the backroom, moaning in pain. You instinctively covered your mouth, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes once more. All you had to do was stay still and not make a noise. He’d eventually go back to join the fight soon enough.
The universe had other plans, however.
As if to worsen your situation, the mop that was propped up against the wall began to fall over. You quickly reached to stop it. You weren’t careful enough and accidentally kicked at the bucket that was in front of your foot, successfully knocking it over onto it’s side.
Right on queue, the door slammed open to reveal the bloodied man that had been thrown into the room. The bloody pocket knife that was in his hold raised. He took a step towards you, ready to slash at your flesh. The lights flickered above him, giving him an even more menacing look. You couldn’t even scream out for help, your voice long lost as the silence in the building became apparent.
‘Oh, God! They killed him! And now they’re gonna kill me! This wasn’t suppose to happen!’ You thought, eyes wide and unblinking.
“Please…” you whispered in a small voice.
The thug was about to lunge at you, but a single gunshot echoed and in an instant, the body fell atop of you.
You were thrown to the back of the tiny closet, the weight of the body crushing you as you struggled to get away. You screamed, feeling the warm, sticky blood seeping into your work uniform.
Frank appeared in a heartbeat as he pulled the man off of you, throwing him out almost effortlessly.
Your eyes glossed over as your breathing became fast and shallow. Calloused hands pulled you up, Frank’s clothes even more bloody than yours. Which wasn’t surprising at all.
“F-Frank…” You said, weakly. Your legs buckle from beneath you and if it weren’t for Frank holding you still, you’d have crumpled down onto the floor.
“Hey! Look at me!” His voice sounded distant as you felt the room spinning. “What’s your name?!” He tried again, pulling you closer and making his way out of the building with you in tow.
“(N-name).” You stammered, catching two mangled bodies on the ground and the blood splattered on the walls.
A strangled gasp left your mouth as you noticed the broken pot from before had been impaled in one of the thugs’ neck. The blood from your face drained as you gagged, holding back your puke.
“(Name), you’re going into shock. I need you to focus on my voice and nothing more, do you understand?”
You gave a feeble nod, unaware that he might not have caught it. Once outside, a cold sweat broke out on your skin as you clutched onto your rescuer’s coat. Still, your breathing wasn’t under control and with each intake of air you made, you felt as if it wasn’t enough. Your lungs were constricting which only made your breathing quicken even more.
“Where do you live?”
It took you a moment to respond, brain focused on the mere action of getting enough oxygen.
“A-a block away… On 37th and Grove.”
You were pale and weak by now, legs giving out every few steps. No matter how much you tried to keep your head and breathing leveled, your vision was beginning to blur. Frank noticed just how deep into shock you were going and opted into picking you up. There was no way he’d get you to your apartment in time with your weakened state.
Normally, you would have argued and given anyone hell for picking you up, but you didn’t have the energy to do so right now.
“Apartment…” you utter, softly.
Frank only grunts in acknowledgment. You proceed.
“Second fl-floor,” A shiver wracks your body and keeps you from going on for a split second. He notices and you can feel his grip tightening as he pulls your clammy body closer as he breaks out into a run.
“Apartment 27.” You finish, eyes bleary as you watch him clench and unclench his jaw. It’s funny that despite his bloody nose, busted lip, and his overall lacerated face… You still found him rather handsome. A faint laugh resounded and if it weren’t for the annoyed look Frank gave you, you wouldn’t have noticed that it was you who did it.
'Shit, I’m going crazy. It’s because of the lack of oxygen my brain is getting! Of course! It has to be that!' You thought, burying your face into what you can now confirm to be a leather coat.
In moments, he was carrying you up a flight of stairs and you mentally thanked to whatever higher being for the absence of any resident roaming the hallways.
“Keys.” huffed Frank, his eyes scanning down the hallway on both sides in case someone decided to investigate the thudding footsteps stomping their way down the halls this late at night.
“Pocket.” You murmured, a shaky hand reaching into your jeans’ front pocket and pulling out a set of keys. He shifted you in his arms, reaching for the keys and trying to keep you in his arm as best as he could. It took him a few tries to get the right key, but he ultimately got the right one.
He quickly slipped inside, shutting the door behind him as he threw the keys off to God knows where.
Your eyes squeezed shut, the world spinning violently around you as your breathing continued to stutter.
Frank moved to your couch, gently setting you down and much to your confusion, raising your feet up. You quickly forgot about it as your eyes fluttered with your next gasp of breath.
“F-Frank..” You gaped, hair sticking to your sweaty face.
His fingers pressed just underneath your jaw. “Your pulse is too rapid. I need you to calm down or else you’ll pass out, (Name).”
You whimpered before the entire world went black.