Work Text:
Karen had only ever moved three times, but that was more than enough times for her to know that it sucked. Now, here she was, moving for her fourth time. It sucked, but it was for the best. Frank convinced her that they needed to be in a safer part of town, seeing as Karen almost got mugged one night taking out the trash (Frank wouldn’t let her do it again after that) along with general bad vibes that could be picked up by anyone just driving past her complex.
They had acquired the help of Matt and Foggy earlier that week, and they had helped quite a bit, but Karen felt bad for making them miss their date night. Her and Frank could handle it alone, right? They only had about a dozen more boxes and the refrigerator. They’ve got this.
Spoiler Alert! They did not have this.
Karen was working on carrying out the last box while Frank started working on getting the refrigerator. Karen was about out the door when she heard a loud crack, thump and an “oh shit” coming from the direction of the kitchen. She quickly dropped the box she was carrying and ran to check on Frank. She entered the room to see him half laying/leaning on the counter, with one of his legs stuck under the refrigerator. Which was now laying down with the door facing up (Thankfully, they taped the doors closed first). “Holy shit! Frank, are you okay?”Karen exclaimed, putting her hands to her mouth. “I would be better if we could get this fridge off of me” Frank grunted, obviously in pain, something Karen had never really seen. It only worried her even more as she moved to flip the fridge off of Frank’s leg. “Are you okay? Can you walk?” She asked frantically, helping him up with surprisingly little protest. “I'll be fine, doll.” Frank tried to reassure her as she guided the both of them to the door. “No, you won’t Frank, you’re lucky I trust Matt enough to stitch you up after a rough night. If he wasn't so concerningly good at that, you’d be giving this hospital way too much business.” Karen rebutted, kicking the box she’d dropped earlier back into the apartment, and locking the door behind her. “This really isn’t necessary though, love. I’m fine” Frank tried, before quickly realizing this won’t end very well if he keeps arguing with Karen. “We're not having this talk right now babe, we're going to the hospital.” Karen had the car door open for Frank and helped him in before getting into the driver's side. She started the car and pulled out her phone. “Whatcha doin doll?” Frank asked, trying to adjust his leg and wincing as he did. “I’m letting Foggy know we’re headed to the hospital.” Karen replied, hitting send and putting her phone away and getting her seatbelt on before driving off.
It was thankfully not a very busy night and they were able to get in quickly. Before they got in though, she checked her phone to see Foggy had texted back, asking what happened, and she explained what happened. It was about a fifteen minute wait and Frank was not having it. He sat with his arms crossed and a displeased look on his face. Karen didn’t miss the way he winced as he got up when he was called back. They said his tibia was fractured, and he needed to reset it before putting it in a cast. They recommended morphine while they did this, and Frank was about to say no when Karen reminded him that his reflexes might not be very nice to the doctor. In the end, Frank agreed and Karen obviously recorded him high on morphine.
“Hey pretty lady,” Frank slurred, looking at Karen. “You got a husband?” Karen giggled at this, holding his hand and saying “I have a boyfriend.” Frank's jaw dropped “Really? But you’re so pretty, you tell that coward of a boyfriend you’ve got to propose and make you his forever.” He said, strongly. “I will, don’t you worry” Karen assured him. “Mmm, good.” Frank mumbled, his eyes drooping heavily. “Go to sleep babe.” Karen kissed him on the forehead.