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๐ธ๐ล๐ฝฮ๐ แต ย ๐๐
๐๐ป. ๐๐ช๐๐ธ๐ป๐๐๐๐, ๐๐๐๐๐ (๐ฒ๐ซ;๐๐๐๐๐๐) ๐๐๐๐๐๐ (๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐) ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ (๐ฐ๐๐ฃ๐ข ๐ฅ๐ฌ๐ฒ๐ฐ๐ข ๐ค๐๐ฏ๐๐ค๐ข) ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ฎ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ถ๐๐๐ (๐ฆ๐ซ๐ฑ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ฌ๐ฏ) ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ (๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ : โโโโ | ๐๐๐๐๐๐ : โโโโ | ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐) ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ (๐ญ๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ฐ๐ฌ๐ซ, ๐ ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ซ๐ฆ๐ , ๐ฅ๐ฌ๐ฐ๐ญ๐ฆ๐ฑ๐๐ฉ)
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She's had a taste of that powerlessness before. Once again she's compelled to help since knows it can't even compare. Once again she notes her privilege. Everything has always had a happy ending where Kamala is concerned. Sure things get real and scary, but the credits roll on a cute scene. No one ever dies; nothing is ever truly lost. Frank knows exactly what it's like to lose big while knowing there's nothing you can do to stop it.
Kamala reaches out to touch his shoulder and gently squeezes until it's time to at least to share some worthwhile advice to her for whatever it is worth to Frank.]
One thing I learned the hard way because of who I am now is that you can't do everything alone. It's okay to depend on her because someday she'll depend on you. That's part of being a community. We can't survive alone and that's okay. We just have to be ready when it's our turn to take on more of the weight than everyone else.
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her words hurt going down, like bitter medicine, but he reads every word that comes up on his screen though they're close enough now he could read hers instead. it gives him a reason not to cry again, though the sentiment behind the text isn't any less depressing. ]
i know. i'm ready.
[ that's all he does now is wait for jessica's call to action. he knows it isn't healthy or even what he should be doing, but he needs to be there at the end. he needs to see that bastard finally fall to his knees. his free hand clenches on his knee, belying his anger and frustration as well as the vein practically bulging from his throat. this is bullshit. and he hates that kamala is stuck sharing oxygen with that sick piece of shit. ]
i said things to her. fucked up things.
[ that he blamed her. that all of this was because of her. he wishes he could take it all back; that he could make up for it somehow. but he knows she's used to bearing the brunt of kilgrave's fallout. that isn't fair either. he wants to shoulder it all for her, has since the moment he saw her crush that dickhead's windpipe the second night here. his face contorts into an angry grimace without him noticing, lips twitching with the effort not to snarl. he hates kevin thompson as much as william rawlins or billy russo. they can all share a mass grave for all he fucking cares. ]
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But, not because you wanted to, right? It's not your fault if he made you do things you didn't want to do. And it's okay if you're really angry about it and need to punch something. Isn't that the point of that club we're not allowed to talk about? To get that anger out?
cw death & suicide mentions.
[ he wanted to do all of it until the second kilgrave died. he had been moments away from killing himself when he'd been released. frank castle didn't give up. frank castle didn't pick fights he couldn't win. this place has made him question a lot about himself, and the microscope isn't turning up the results he'd wanted. she's right, though, he needs to find something else to occupy his time. even if it's just busy...ness. belatedly, he nods. ]
are you gonna make it back? [ to fight club. right now, he's not sure he feels up to being mr. miyagi. but he would give it a shot for her. ]
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She nods at her question, shaking off that sick feeling as best she can.] Yeah. I want to be ready. I know I call this place a horror movie like it's a joke, but it kind of isn't. I really should be ready for things to get worse.
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lesson #1 first thing in the am?
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